Chapter 129
Aria's POV
My stomach dropped. Caroline Hayes—the woman Devon's mother had selected as his perfect match. The woman he was supposedly going to marry. And now she was engaged to his best friend?
"Interesting," I managed, keeping my voice even. "I wasn't aware."
Jeremy's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I saw how you reacted. Don't tell me you have feelings for Noah?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I said sharply. "We barely know each other."
"If you say so." His smile was knowing. "Anyway, I need a plus-one for the event. You'd be perfect—we could discuss the Hampton house renovation there."
Before I could respond, he glanced at his watch and stood. "I have another appointment. Think about it—the party's in three days. I'll pick you up at seven."
He was gone before I could object, leaving me wondering if Devon's five-day silence had anything to do with Caroline's engagement to Noah. Was he upset? Relieved? Did he even care? And why did I care what Devon Kane felt?
---
That evening, I returned to the Harper family mansion. The house was quiet as I entered, but as I passed the living room, I heard muffled crying.
Victoria sat on the cream-colored sofa, her face turned away. When she sensed my presence, she quickly dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief.
"Aria," she said, her voice artificially bright. "I didn't hear you come in."
As she turned, I saw what she had been trying to hide—a purplish bruise blooming across her left cheekbone and a swollen area near her right eye.
"What happened to your face?" I asked, not bothering to mask my curiosity.
"I... I fell," she said, the lie transparent.
"Must have been quite a fall," I remarked. "Or did you do something that wasn't... becoming of a Harper?"
Her eyes narrowed at my thinly veiled accusation. "I don't know what you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything," I replied, setting down my bag. "Just curious about how the wife of William Harper ended up looking like she went three rounds in a boxing ring."
"That's enough, Aria," my father's voice cut in as he entered from his study. "Victoria doesn't need your interrogation."
Victoria's eyes welled with fresh tears. "It's fine, William. I should tell her." She turned to me with a sigh. "I sent an antique brooch to the Brown family yesterday. Apparently, it was... not as tasteful as I thought. They didn't appreciate the gesture."
My father placed a protective hand on her shoulder. "It was a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding that resulted in physical harm?" I asked incredulously. "Shouldn't we involve the police?"
"Absolutely not," my father snapped. "The last thing we need is more scandal. The matter is closed."
I nodded slowly, then deliberately changed the subject. "By the way, Victoria, I wasn't trying to invade your privacy when I came into your room this morning. I was just looking for that distinctive cologne you were wearing when you came home last night." I studied her face carefully. "It smelled like men's fragrance rather than perfume. Quite unique—I thought it might suit me for a business meeting."
Victoria's face visibly tensed, her fingers gripping the handkerchief tighter. "I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't wearing any special fragrance."
"Really? That's strange. I distinctly remember smelling it when you passed my door after midnight." I tilted my head innocently. "Perhaps I was mistaken. Though I do have an excellent sense of smell."
My father placed a protective hand on Victoria's shoulder. "Aria, Victoria is tired. This isn't the time for your interrogations about perfume."
Victoria's eyes darted nervously between my father and me. "It's just a new scent I'm trying. Nothing special. I'll get you the name tomorrow."
The tension in her voice told me everything I needed to know. She hadn't been visiting the Browns last night—and wherever she had been, it wasn't somewhere she wanted my father to know about.
Dinner was a tense affair. My father and I ate in silence until Scarlett swept into the dining room, twenty minutes late and dressed in a pristine white dress that made her look like she was headed to a yacht club rather than a family dinner.
"Aria, I'm so glad you're joining us tonight," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You've been so busy lately, I feel like we never see you."
"Work keeps me occupied," I replied coolly.
"Of course, your little marketing company," she said with a dismissive wave. "Daddy was just telling me how impressed he is with your dedication."
My father nodded absently, his attention on his steak.
Throughout the meal, Scarlett dominated the conversation, expertly showcasing her charm for my father's benefit. I watched the performance with detached amusement, saying little and finishing my meal as quickly as politeness allowed.
"If you'll excuse me," I said, folding my napkin beside my plate. "I have some work to finish before tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, I retreated to my room and stepped out onto the small balcony, needing fresh air. The night was clear, the distant sounds of traffic a soothing backdrop to my thoughts.
A car's headlights swept across the driveway below, and I froze as a familiar black Audi pulled up. Ethan Blake stepped out, his tall figure unmistakable in the security lighting.
Scarlett rushed from the house, not bothering to close the door behind her. She threw herself into his arms, her white dress glowing in the darkness. He caught her, spinning her slightly before setting her down. His hands moved to her waist, intimate and possessive.
Then, as if sensing he was being watched, Ethan looked up. Our eyes met across the distance, his expression changing from surprise to something unreadable. For a moment, neither of us moved.
Scarlett followed his gaze and saw me. Rather than appearing embarrassed, a slow smile spread across her face. She turned back to Ethan, deliberately pulling him closer and whispering something in his ear.
I should have turned away. Instead, I watched as Ethan guided Scarlett toward his car, opening the door for her with exaggerated gallantry. Once inside, the windows quickly fogged, leaving little doubt about their activities.
The display was so obviously for my benefit that it would have been laughable if it weren't so pathetic. I turned and went back inside, closing the balcony door firmly behind me.
---
The next morning, I was reviewing contracts in the study when Scarlett found me. She was wearing another white dress, this one with delicate lace trim—her perpetual innocent facade.
"Good morning, Aria," she said, perching on the edge of the desk. "I wanted to personally invite you to my birthday celebration next weekend. It's going to be an intimate gathering at the Hampton house."
"No, thank you," I replied without looking up from my papers.
Her smile faltered slightly. "Please reconsider. I know we've had our differences, but I'd really like you to be there. It would mean a lot to me."
I finally met her gaze. "Would it? Or are you just following Victoria's instructions to keep up appearances?"
"That's not fair," she protested, her eyes widening in practiced hurt. "I genuinely want to repair our relationship. We're sisters, after all."
"Step-sisters," I corrected. "And I have plans that weekend."
"What plans?" she pressed. "Surely nothing that can't be rescheduled for family."
I set down my pen and regarded her coolly. "Scarlett, let's not pretend. You don't want me there any more than I want to be there."
"That's not true," she insisted, reaching for my hand. I pulled it away before she could touch me. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying here. Please, Aria. Just think about it."
Her persistence was suspicious. Something about this birthday party was important to her, and that alone made me wary.
"I'll consider it," I said finally, knowing I had no intention of attending.
"Thank you," she beamed, bouncing off the desk. "It'll be wonderful, I promise!"