Chapter 198
Aria's POV
William Harper stared at the Reed Group contract in disbelief, his fingers tightening around the pages as he flipped through them a second time. The new Vice President—Mr. Richards, according to his monogrammed cufflinks—hovered awkwardly near the door, his earlier confidence visibly deflating.
"This signature is authentic?" my father finally asked, looking up with narrowed eyes.
I nodded, maintaining the same quiet composure I'd summoned when handing him the contract. "Calvin Reed signed it personally last night."
My father's gaze lingered on me, searching for some explanation beyond the obvious. The morning light filtering through his office windows cast harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the deepening lines of displeasure around his mouth.
"Mr. Richards," he said without looking away from me, "we'll continue our discussion this afternoon."
The man hesitated, then nodded and retreated, closing the door behind him with a soft click. As soon as we were alone, my father's pretense of civility evaporated.
"So," he said, setting the contract down with deliberate slowness, "care to explain where you were last night? And how exactly you convinced Reed to sign when he's refused everyone else for months?"
His tone was deceptively casual, but the accusation hung in the air between us. I kept my expression neutral, though my heart pounded against my ribs.
"I presented a compelling business case," I replied evenly. "The numbers speak for themselves."
"Numbers," he echoed, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive wave. "Anyone can put together numbers, Aria. Getting a man like Calvin Reed to sign on the dotted line requires... other skills. Skills I wasn't aware you possessed."
I felt the familiar twist of pain that always came with his disapproval, but beneath it was something new—anger, hot and clarifying.
"I secured this contract because it made business sense," I said, my voice cooler than before. "Reed recognized the value of our digital integration strategy. If you'd bothered to read the proposal instead of questioning my methods, you'd see that."
William's expression hardened. "Don't mistake a single success for actual competence, Aria. Using unorthodox methods to secure a contract isn't an achievement. It's a liability—especially for our family's reputation."
"Our family's reputation?" I let out a bitter laugh. "That ship sailed when Victoria and Scarlett started draining company resources for their personal shopping sprees. Maybe you should focus on the actual problems in this company instead of inventing ones about me."
Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, at my willingness to push back. I'd spent years trying to earn his approval, carefully navigating around his moods and expectations. But I was done being the obedient daughter who accepted his judgment without question.
"You're dismissed," he said coldly. "Try to remember you represent Harper Group when you're out all night with clients."
I stood, smoothing the front of my skirt. "I always do."
---
By ten o'clock, I'd settled into my office for the scheduled departmental meeting. The room remained empty except for Diana, who sat primly at the far end of the conference table, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, checking my watch.
My assistant Anna appeared in the doorway, looking anxious. "Your father called an emergency executive meeting ten minutes ago. Everyone was directed to the main conference room."
I felt the blood rush to my face. This wasn't a coincidence—this was a deliberate attempt to undermine me.
"Call them all back," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Now."
"But Ms. Harper, your father specifically—"
"I don't care what my father said. This meeting was scheduled last week. Tell them they have ten minutes to get here, or they shouldn't bother coming in tomorrow."
Anna's eyes widened before she hurried out.
Diana sighed, closing the leather portfolio she'd been reviewing. "Aria, forcing people to choose sides won't end well for anyone."
"I'm not forcing them to choose sides," I replied, though we both knew that wasn't entirely true. "I'm expecting them to do their jobs."
The sympathy in Diana's eyes made me uncomfortable.
"Your father is—"
My phone vibrated, and I glanced down to see Garrett Morgan's name on the screen. My private investigator rarely called during business hours unless it was urgent.
"I need to take this," I said, already moving toward the door. "Reschedule the meeting for tomorrow morning. And Diana? Make sure everyone understands attendance isn't optional."
Outside, I answered the call. "What do you have for me?"
"We need to meet," Garrett's gruff voice came through. "I've got information about the Blake family you're going to want to hear in person."
Twenty minutes later, I slid into a chair across from Garrett in a discreet Brooklyn coffee shop that specialized in overpriced lattes and patron privacy. The former FBI agent pushed a manila envelope across the table without preamble.
"Your father met with Marianne and George Blake three times in the past two weeks," he said, his weathered face betraying no emotion. "The last meeting was yesterday evening at the Plaza."
I opened the envelope, finding surveillance photos of my father with Ethan's parents entering a private dining room. "What were they discussing?"
Garrett took a sip of his black coffee. "My source confirmed they've reached an agreement. The Blakes will help your father reduce your influence at Harper Group through their connections with several board members." He paused, watching my reaction carefully. "In exchange, your father has promised to convince you to drop the public accusations against their son."
I felt cold despite the warmth of the coffee shop. My own father was conspiring with my ex-fiancé's family—with my mother's former best friend—to undermine me.
"There's more," Garrett added. "They're planning to force you out of the company altogether by the end of the quarter. Your father believes with you gone, he can regain complete control and repair the relationship with Blake Fashion Group."
I stared at the photos, tracing my finger over my father's familiar profile. The betrayal shouldn't have surprised me, but somehow, it still did.
"Thank you, Garrett," I said quietly, tucking the envelope into my bag. "Keep digging. I want to know everyone involved in this."