Chapter 103
Aria's POV
Red Maple Lodge's garden stretched before us, fairy lights twinkling among perfectly manicured shrubs. Owen's question about Sophia hung in the air between us, his practiced concern making my blood boil.
"How is she doing?" he repeated, leaning forward with what appeared to be genuine interest.
I gave him a cold smile. "Why would her wellbeing matter to you?" My tone carried unmistakable hostility. I could feel Devon watching our exchange carefully, his eyes narrowed in assessment.
Owen's expression tightened at my response. His gaze flickered nervously toward Devon, who stood a few feet away, silently observing. "I just... I still care about her, Aria," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Could we talk somewhere private? Just us?"
I felt a small surge of satisfaction at his discomfort. "Sure. Meet me on the rooftop terrace later." I rose from my seat, smoothing down my dress. "I need to discuss something with my friend first."
I turned to Devon, who was studying me with that penetrating gaze of his. His jaw was set, eyes slightly darkened with what might have been concern or possessiveness—perhaps both. "I'm going to talk with your cousin about my friend," I explained.
Devon didn't respond verbally, but his slight nod conveyed permission. His eyes held mine a moment longer than necessary, sending an unexpected warmth through my chest. I hadn't expected him to care who I spoke with or why.
---
The rooftop terrace of Red Maple Lodge offered a stunning view of the night sky. Moonlight glimmered off the glass railings as I leaned against them, gazing at the silvery orb above. I couldn't help but reflect on the parallels between Sophia's heartbreak and my own experience with Ethan. Both of us had fallen for men who ultimately betrayed us.
"Am I really that irritating?" Owen's voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to find him standing at the entrance to the terrace, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight.
"I was just thinking about how 'devoted' you were to Sophia," I replied, sarcasm dripping from my words. I remembered the photos Sophia had shown me – Owen's public declaration of love at Princeton, their selection as "best couple" by classmates. All meaningless in the end.
"Why did you invite Sophia to your engagement party?" I asked bluntly, watching his eyes for any sign of deception.
Owen's brow furrowed in confusion. "What invitation? I didn't send her anything."
I scoffed. "Don't play dumb. She received a message from you last week. Before she could even respond, she saw the public announcement of your engagement."
"Aria, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." His bewilderment seemed genuine, which only confused me more.
I'd had enough of this conversation. I turned to leave, but my heel slipped on what seemed to be a puddle of spilled champagne. I felt myself losing balance, and instinctively braced for impact.
Owen reflexively grabbed my wrist to steady me, his grip firm but not painful.
"What's going on here?" a shrill voice demanded. Owen's fiancée Chloe stood at the terrace entrance, her blonde hair gleaming under the outdoor lights, eyes blazing with suspicion.
I quickly pulled my arm from Owen's grasp. "Nothing. I was just leaving." I tried to move past her, but Chloe blocked my path.
"Hold on," she snapped, grabbing my arm. "Were you secretly meeting my fiancé up here?"
"You're mistaken," I said, keeping my voice level. "We were discussing a mutual friend."
"Which friend? His ex-girlfriend?" Chloe's grip tightened painfully. We struggled on the slippery floor, and in the ensuing chaos, both of us lost our footing. I felt a sharp pain as my arm caught on something when we fell.
Looking down, I saw a thin line of blood forming on my forearm.
"Enough." Devon's authoritative voice cut through the tension. He emerged from the stairwell, his expression hardened with a controlled anger I hadn't seen before. With effortless grace, he helped me to my feet, pulling me protectively against his side. The warmth of his body against mine provided an unexpected sense of security that made my heart rate quicken.
His eyes swept coldly over Owen and Chloe, but when they returned to me, I caught a flash of something softer—concern, perhaps, or something deeper that disappeared before I could name it.
"Kane, this is just a misunderstanding," Owen stammered, clearly uncomfortable.
Chloe started to speak, but Owen cut her off. "Could you think before acting for once? Aria is my cousin's date!" Chloe paled, glancing nervously at Devon. "I'm... I didn't know. I can explain—"
"Not now," Owen interrupted, pulling her back. "We should go."
As Devon guided me toward the exit, his hand firmly at the small of my back, I heard Owen ask in a low voice, "Did you touch my phone recently?"
Chloe's response was nervous and evasive. "No... of course not."
Devon and I exchanged a knowing glance as we left the terrace. His fingers pressed slightly firmer against my back, a silent gesture of solidarity that felt oddly intimate.
---
Inside Devon's suite, he directed me to the sofa and disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a first aid kit. "Take off your jacket," he commanded, his voice carrying a hint of irritation.
I complied, wincing as the fabric brushed against my wound. Devon pressed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the cut, his movements rougher than necessary.
"Ouch!" I hissed at the stinging sensation.
Devon's eyes met mine, something shifting in their depths. His hand paused, hovering over my arm. "So, what really happened up there? Did you and Owen do something to provoke that reaction?" His voice was controlled, but I detected an undercurrent of jealousy.
I shook my head. "I was confronting him about hurting Sophia."
He continued treating my wound, his touch becoming noticeably gentler. The change was subtle but unmistakable—his fingers now moved with careful precision, almost tender in their attention. "You seem quite familiar with Owen," he said, his voice deliberately neutral, but I caught the slight tension in his jaw.
"I'm not. I only know him as Sophia's ex-boyfriend," I paused, then added, "And as your cousin, apparently."
Devon raised an eyebrow but remained focused on bandaging my arm. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, his breathing becoming more regular. His fingers lingered on my skin after securing the bandage, the light touch sending a small shiver up my arm.
"Next time you have an issue with someone, tell me directly. I'll handle it," he said, his voice low and commanding. His eyes held mine, revealing an unmistakable possessiveness that went beyond our business arrangement.