Chapter 112
Aria's POV
As I left the kitchen for the front door, I glimpsed Victoria entering the kitchen where Elsa was preparing dinner. Victoria's voice, suddenly honey-sweet in public spaces where staff might overhear, took on a menacing edge as she approached the longtime housekeeper.
"Don't think that little bitch returning gives you any protection," she said, voice low but clear enough for me to catch. "She can't be here all the time."
"Prepare some mushroom soup for William," Victoria ordered. "I'll bring it to him personally."
The implied threat in her tone made my skin crawl. I had business to attend to—specifically, the fire-damaged property in the West End that I intended to renovate.
---
The villa property had suffered significant fire damage—a fact that had caused me considerable heartache at the time. Now, however, I saw an opportunity to rebuild something that was truly mine.
I pulled my car into the circular driveway, noting how the once-elegant Tudor-style home still maintained its bones despite the fire damage to the east wing. The landscape architect had assured me the ancient maple trees lining the property had survived, a small mercy.
A sleek black Range Rover was already parked in front, and a tall man in an impeccably tailored navy suit stood examining the exterior of the house, a portfolio tucked under his arm.
"Mr. Pierce? Jeremy Pierce?" I called as I approached.
He turned, and I found myself momentarily taken aback. The designer I'd hired based on portfolio alone was unexpectedly young and striking—with sharp cheekbones, intense dark eyes, and black hair styled in a professional yet fashionable cut. His strong jawline and focused gaze gave him an air of competence that immediately put me at ease.
"Ms. Harper," he replied, extending his hand. "A pleasure to meet you in person."
His last name had caught my attention. "Pierce... any relation to Noah Pierce?"
A brief flicker of something—recognition, perhaps tension—crossed his features before he offered a professional smile. "Very observant. Noah is my older brother."
I gestured toward the house. "Shall we?"
Jeremy led me through the property, his voice taking on an animated quality when discussing his vision for the renovation. He pointed out where walls could be removed to create more open spaces, where the original character of the home could be preserved, and where modern elements could be introduced without compromising the historic integrity.
"The fire damage gives us an opportunity," he explained as we stood in what used to be a formal dining room. "Instead of merely repairing, we can reimagine. This space could become a statement of resilience—acknowledging what happened while creating something even more beautiful."
His words resonated with me on a personal level. Wasn't that exactly what I was trying to do with my own life?
After walking through the entire property, Jeremy consulted his watch. "We could continue discussing options, but this environment isn't conducive to detailed planning. There's an excellent restaurant nearby—Il Giardino. We could review some preliminary sketches over dinner?"
I hesitated briefly, then nodded. "That sounds perfect."
---
Il Giardino was an upscale Italian restaurant with soft lighting and intimate booths. Jeremy had requested a table in the back, away from the windows, providing the privacy needed to spread out his design portfolios.
"This concept incorporates elements of your childhood home—which you mentioned was important to you—while introducing contemporary touches," Jeremy explained, sliding a rendering across the table.
I studied the image, impressed by how he'd captured exactly what I'd been struggling to articulate. "This is... remarkable. How did you know?"
"Good design is about listening between the lines," he replied, his dark eyes meeting mine with quiet confidence.
Over pasta and wine, we discussed materials, timelines, and budgets. Jeremy's passion for his craft was evident, and I found myself genuinely enjoying his company—a welcome distraction from the chaos of my personal life.
As I reached for my water glass, a drop of sauce landed on the corner of my mouth. Jeremy leaned forward slightly, napkin in hand. "You have a bit of—"
His gesture was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Aria?"
I looked up to see Noah standing at our table, Devon a step behind him. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
Jeremy's expression shifted instantly. He gathered his portfolios with swift, efficient movements. "I should be going," he said, rising from his seat.
The tension between the two brothers was palpable. Noah's jaw tightened, while Jeremy's posture became rigid. They acknowledged each other with curt nods, no words exchanged.
"I'll email you the revised sketches by tomorrow," Jeremy told me, then departed with a final glance toward his brother.
Devon's face remained impassive throughout the exchange, but I could feel the weight of his gaze as Jeremy left. Noah slid into the now-vacant seat across from me.
"I didn't realize you knew my brother," Noah said casually, though his tone suggested anything but casual interest.
"I don't, really. He's the designer I've hired to renovate my villa."
"Ah, just business then." Noah visibly relaxed, glancing up at Devon who remained standing, silent and watchful. The intensity of Devon's scrutiny made me shift in my seat.
"Exactly. Just business," I confirmed, though I couldn't help but wonder about the evident strain between the Pierce brothers.
After a few more minutes of stilted conversation, I excused myself, claiming an early morning meeting. Devon had barely spoken three words the entire time, but as I gathered my purse to leave, I felt his fingers brush against mine—so briefly I might have imagined it.
---
Later that night, I pulled out my phone and dialed Ryan's number. After our years of friendship, I knew exactly where he'd be on a weekday night.
"Elysium?" I asked when he picked up, the thumping bass music in the background confirming my suspicion.
"Where else would I be?" he laughed. "What's up, Aria?"
"I need to talk to you. It's important."
There was a brief pause. "Well, come on over then. I'm in the VIP section."
Thirty minutes later, I pushed past the velvet ropes at Elysium, nodding to the bouncer who recognized me from previous visits. Inside, strobe lights pulsed across the crowded dance floor as I made my way to the VIP area.
I spotted Ryan immediately, a blonde woman draped across his lap, laughing at something he'd whispered in her ear. When he caught sight of me, he whispered something to his companion, who reluctantly extracted herself from his embrace.
"Well, well, if it isn't Harper royalty finally remembering I exist," he teased as I approached, his familiar cocky grin in place.
"I need your help," I replied, skipping our usual banter.
Ryan raised an eyebrow, studying me with sudden interest. "You only ever remember me when you need something."
I didn't bother denying it. "This is important."
"It always is," he sighed, but his expression had turned serious. "What is it this time?"