Chapter 177
Aria's POV
Marianne stood frozen, her face a portrait of conflict as she processed Scarlett's accidental confession. Her eyes darted between us, no longer certain who the predator was and who was the prey in this twisted game. I saw my opportunity and seized it.
"Marianne," I said softly, my voice steady despite the rope cutting into my wrists. "We've known each other for twenty years. You were my mother's closest friend at Princeton. You know me better than almost anyone."
The mention of my mother stirred something inside me—a painful longing mixed with determination. I watched Marianne's eyes carefully, noticing how her lips trembled slightly. The rage that had consumed her moments ago now competed with uncertainty.
Scarlett stepped forward quickly, her white dress now a cruel mockery of innocence. "She's manipulating you! Don't listen to her—"
I raised my head sharply, meeting her eyes with such intensity that she instinctively stopped mid-sentence. My jaw tightened as I felt a drop of blood from the cut on my cheek slide down to my chin. My heart pounded, but I wouldn't let either of them see my fear.
"Every year on my birthday, you sent me a gift, remember?" I continued, unable to keep the slight tremor from my voice as memories flooded back. "You always said it was to honor your friendship with Mom. The antique silver bracelet for my sixteenth birthday, the first edition of 'Pride and Prejudice' when I turned twenty-one..." I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat genuine. "If I were really the kind of person who would hurt your son, why would I still keep everything you've ever given me?"
I felt my eyes growing wet despite my best efforts. The past few weeks had stripped away so many of my defenses, leaving raw emotions I'd tried for years to bury.
Marianne's hand unconsciously moved to her throat, touching the pearl necklace that my mother had given her years ago. Her eyes softened with memory and uncertainty.
"Aria..." she hesitated, then turned to Scarlett with newfound suspicion. "Is what she said true? About you and Ethan planning to..." She couldn't finish the sentence, the implication too disturbing.
Scarlett's perfectly composed facade cracked. Her eyes widened slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "Of course not! She's twisting everything. Ethan and I were just—"
"Just what?" I interrupted, my voice cold but steady. My fingers curled into fists behind my back, the rope biting deeper into my skin. "Just planning to have someone assault me? Is that how the Harper and Blake families solve their problems now?"
The room felt too small suddenly. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as Marianne stepped back, visibly shaken. The elegant socialite who had guided me through countless charity galas now looked lost, caught between maternal instinct and the awful truth beginning to surface.
After a long, tense silence, she took a deep breath. "I don't know who to believe anymore." She walked closer to me, each click of her designer heels on the wooden floor making my stomach tighten. "But there's one way to find out."
She leaned down, her face inches from mine. "If Devon Kane is merely your business partner as you claim, he won't risk everything to come looking for you. But if he shows up here..." Her voice trailed off, the threat implicit.
My stomach dropped. I kept my expression neutral even as my thoughts raced chaotically. Would Devon come for me? Part of me desperately hoped he would, while another part dreaded what that would reveal about our relationship. I couldn't afford to show either hope or fear.
"Then let's wait and see," I replied, pressing my lips together to stop them from quivering. "Time will reveal the truth."
Marianne nodded curtly and checked her watch. "Two hours. I'm going to check on Ethan's condition." She moved toward the door, her hand resting on the handle for a moment before she turned back to look at me. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes—regret, perhaps, or a ghost of our former connection—before she left, closing the door firmly behind her.
Once we were alone, Scarlett's demeanor changed instantly. The sweet, demure mask she wore for others dropped completely. Her shoulders straightened, her head tilted back slightly, and her eyes narrowed with undisguised hatred.
"Look at you now," she sneered, circling my chair slowly. "The great Aria Harper, tied up and helpless." Each word dripped with years of accumulated resentment. "You've always thought you were so special. Daddy's real daughter, the talented one, the beautiful one. But you're nothing but a curse on everyone around you. You ruined my mother's life, and now you've nearly killed Ethan."
I stared at her dispassionately, though each word stung more than I wanted to admit. My chest felt tight, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.
"Can you move back a little? Your voice is giving me a headache."
My casual dismissal made her nostrils flare with rage. She raised her hand to slap me, but I didn't flinch. I just stared directly into her eyes, letting her see the coldness in mine.
"Touch me, and I promise your mother will have an even worse time in that basement," I said evenly, my voice dropping to a near-whisper.
Her hand froze mid-air, eyes widening with shock and then narrowing with fury. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't think I know?" I let out a soft, humorless laugh that surprised even me. "About Victoria being locked in our basement? About what my father is doing to her right now?" I was bluffing, of course, but the flash of fear in Scarlett's eyes told me I'd struck close to some truth.
She lowered her hand slowly, her breathing quickening slightly. Calculation replaced rage in her expression. "What do you want?" she asked cautiously.
"How about a deal?" I suggested, feeling a small surge of control despite my bound state. "Untie me, and I'll tell you exactly what my father plans to do with Victoria."
Scarlett's eyes darted to the door, then back to me. I watched the internal struggle play out across her face: the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, the rapid blink of her eyes, the way she kept running her tongue over her dry lips. Finally, her lips curled into a bitter smile.
"You think you're so clever, don't you? That won't work on me." She stepped closer, leaning down so her face was level with mine. Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You know why Ethan left you? Because you're boring, Aria. A boring, work-obsessed woman who couldn't keep his attention."