Chapter 225
Aria's POV
I stared at Devon, his question hanging between us. "You think your death wouldn't matter to me?" His voice had been barely audible, yet it echoed in my mind like thunder.
The intensity in his eyes made me look away first. My shoulder throbbed painfully, a constant reminder of how close I'd come to disappearing forever. The fever made everything seem slightly unreal, as if I were watching the scene unfold through a hazy filter.
"I didn't mean..." I tried to sit up straighter against the pillows, wincing as pain shot through my shoulder. "I just wanted to find out what Scarlett knew about Victoria. About my mother."
Devon's jaw tightened, the muscles working beneath his skin. He stood by the window, silhouetted against Miami's glittering skyline, his shoulders rigid with tension. Before he could respond, Marcus entered the room, his face impassive as always.
"Mr. Kane, she's here."
Devon turned, and something in his expression made me shiver despite the fever burning through me. It was the cold, calculated look I'd seen before he dealt with business enemies, but now with an added layer of personal rage that was almost frightening.
"Bring her in," he commanded, then glanced at me. "Do you feel well enough to face your stepsister?"
I nodded, gathering my strength. This was what I'd come to Miami for, after all. To confront Scarlett and find Victoria.
Marcus returned, pushing Scarlett into the room. Her hands were bound in front of her, and her usually perfect appearance was disheveled. A bandage wrapped around her leg where she'd been shot during her capture. Her makeup was smeared, tear tracks visible on her cheeks, but her eyes still flashed with defiance when they met mine.
Devon moved to stand behind me, his presence solid and protective. I could feel the heat radiating from him, contrasting with the cold air conditioning of the suite. The message was clear to both Scarlett and me – I was under his protection.
"Where's Victoria?" I asked, my voice steadier than I expected.
Scarlett's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Finally realized you're not the only important one in the family, Aria? Took you long enough."
I didn't rise to her bait. "Just answer the question."
She tossed her head, an oddly childish gesture for someone who'd just tried to have me trafficked. "Victoria left with Eugene Foster. They took cash, a lot of it. They're probably in some non-extradition country by now."
I studied her eyes as she spoke, recognizing the tell-tale flicker she always had when lying. Victoria hadn't left with Eugene; Scarlett was covering for her. But why?
"You're lying," I said quietly, too exhausted to play her games any longer.
Scarlett's face contorted. "You think you know everything, don't you? Just like your mother. Always so perfect, so entitled."
I felt Devon shift behind me, a subtle reminder of his presence. His hand came to rest on the back of the sofa, not quite touching me but close enough that I could feel the energy emanating from him. Scarlett's eyes darted to him, then back to me, a flash of fear crossing her features.
The fever was making it hard to think clearly, and exhaustion weighed heavily on me. I leaned back against the sofa cushions, suddenly too tired to continue this verbal sparring.
"Marcus," I said, surprising myself with how calm I sounded, "you know how your boss usually handles people like her. Do that."
Marcus looked to Devon, who gave a slight nod. As Marcus led Scarlett away, I caught the look of sheer terror on her face. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
Once they were gone, Devon came around to look at me. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of approval, perhaps, mixed with something more complex. I'd just ordered someone's interrogation as casually as ordering coffee, and part of me wondered when I'd become capable of such coldness.
From the next room, I could hear Marcus speaking to Scarlett, his voice too low to make out the words. Then Scarlett's higher-pitched responses, growing increasingly desperate. I heard the distinctive snick of a switchblade opening.
"He won't actually hurt her, will he?" I asked, not sure why I cared after what she'd done to me.
Devon's mouth quirked slightly. "Marcus knows how to extract information without leaving marks. Though given what she planned for you, perhaps you shouldn't be concerned about her comfort."
A few minutes later, Marcus returned, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Sir, she tried to... distract me." He cleared his throat. "Started unbuttoning her blouse when I took out the knife."
Despite everything, I found myself exchanging a glance with Devon, and we both simultaneously let out small, derisive smiles. The brief moment of shared humor eased some of the tension between us.
Outside, Miami's lights sparkled against the night sky. The pain medication was making me drowsy, but I forced myself to stay alert. There was still too much unresolved between Devon and me.
"What did she tell you?" Devon asked Marcus.
"Nothing useful yet, sir. But she's frightened. It won't take much more."
Devon nodded dismissively, and Marcus withdrew, leaving us alone again. Devon sat beside me on the sofa, then unexpectedly pulled me onto his lap. The sudden movement made me gasp as pain shot through my injured shoulder.
"Sorry," he murmured, adjusting me more carefully.
I should have protested—this position was far too intimate—but I was too exhausted to fight. His body was warm and solid beneath mine, providing a comfort I didn't want to admit I needed.
"How should I punish you for this little adventure of yours?" he asked, his breath warm against my ear.
I stiffened. "It was an emergency. I needed to find out—"
"You could have called me," he interrupted.
"I did call you," I protested weakly.
"No, you should have called Ryan, who would have contacted me immediately. Instead, you decided to play detective on your own and nearly got yourself killed." His arms tightened around me, careful of my injury but firm enough to convey his anger. "Do you understand how close you came to disappearing forever?"
The memory of those men discussing selling me overseas made me shudder. Devon must have felt it, because his hold on me gentled slightly.
"I need your help, Devon." The words came out before I could stop them, and they surprised me as much as they seemed to surprise him. I'd never asked for his help so directly before, never shown such vulnerability.
I felt him go very still. "With what?"
I turned my head to look at him, our faces inches apart. "I need to find Victoria. I need to know the truth about my mother."
He studied me for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. "That won't be easy."
I gathered my courage. "I'll agree to any condition you set, if you'll help me find her."