Chapter 254
Aria's POV
In the soft gray light of dawn, I watched the rise and fall of Devon's chest, thinking about the new life we'd inadvertently created. A life that would tie us together in ways no contract ever could. A life that would make me vulnerable not just to Devon, but to his family—especially his mother, who already disapproved of me.
This baby could be my greatest weakness or my greatest strength. I just didn't know which yet.
As Manhattan began to stir outside the window, I made a decision. I would keep this secret a little longer—at least until I figured out what I wanted. Until I could face whatever came next, whether that was Devon's rejection or his overwhelming control.
For now, this baby was mine alone. My secret to hold, my future to determine.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across Devon's bedroom. My hand instinctively went to the empty space beside me, still warm from his body. A familiar pang of disappointment settled in my chest when I realized he'd already left.
I'd spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, torn between fear and something else I couldn't quite name. My fingers absently traced patterns on my stomach as I contemplated the life growing inside me. Devon's child. The thought still didn't seem real.
I showered quickly and forced myself to eat the breakfast Marcus had prepared, though my appetite had vanished. The pregnancy test results felt like a weight in my purse as I headed toward Harper Group. On the drive over, my phone buzzed with a text from Diana.
"William Harper is here. Called an emergency executive meeting. Didn't ask for you."
My blood ran cold. My father showing up unannounced at my company could only mean trouble. Especially now, when he was supposed to be dealing with the fallout from his arrest and subsequent bail. I pressed harder on the accelerator.
By the time I reached the office, my resolve had hardened. If my father thought he could waltz in and undermine me in my own company, he was sorely mistaken. I strode through the lobby, nodding curtly at the receptionist's concerned look.
Outside the conference room, I could hear my father's measured tones through the door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open without knocking. The conversation halted immediately. Eight pairs of eyes turned toward me, but I only focused on one—my father's cool gaze from the head of the table, where he sat as though he owned the place.
"Aria," he said, his voice surprisingly warm. "We were just discussing the quarterly projections."
"In my company? Without me?" I kept my voice steady despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface.
The executives shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. My father smiled thinly, then gestured to the door. "Perhaps we could speak privately?"
After everyone filed out, an uncomfortable silence settled between us. I remained standing, unwilling to sit at my own table while he occupied the head chair.
"Blood is thicker than water, Aria," he finally said, leaning back. "Despite our... disagreements, we're still family."
I couldn't help but laugh, the sound brittle in the quiet room. "Family? Like you and Scarlett? Or you and Victoria? Please."
"You should watch that tone." His eyes hardened momentarily before he softened his expression again. "I'm concerned about your well-being. And the company's future, of course."
"I'm watching you, Dad," I said quietly. "Every move. And if you think you can swoop in here and take control while I'm distracted, you're mistaken."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Distracted by what, exactly? Devon Kane?"
His gaze swept over me slowly, deliberately—a calculating assessment that made my skin crawl. There was something knowing in his expression, a predatory awareness that suggested he was fishing for information, testing for weaknesses. The way he looked at me felt invasive, as if he could see through whatever facade I was trying to maintain.
The scrutiny made my breath catch. Did he suspect something? How could he? I hadn't told anyone, not even Devon. The pregnancy test was still in my purse, the results I'd discovered just days ago. But my father had always been unnervingly perceptive when it came to exploiting vulnerabilities.
"Get out," I said, my voice low but firm. "This is my company. I built it from nothing, while you were busy playing house with Victoria and Scarlett."
A flash of something—anger? regret?—crossed his features before he stood, buttoning his suit jacket with practiced ease. "We'll finish this conversation another time, Aria. When you're more... receptive."
After he left, I collapsed into a chair, my hands shaking. The confrontation had drained me, and the stress was making my morning sickness worse. I pressed my palm against my stomach, worry gnawing at me. All this tension, the sleepless nights, the constant anxiety about my father's schemes—it couldn't be good for the baby.
An hour later, I sat in a doctor's office across town. I'd chosen this clinic specifically because it had no connection to any hospital where my father might have influence. The examining room was bright and sterile, with motivational posters that seemed jarringly cheerful given my state of mind.
"I just found out I'm pregnant," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "About six weeks along. But I've been under tremendous stress lately—family issues, work pressure. I'm worried about what this might be doing to the baby."
Dr. Martinez, a kind-faced woman in her fifties, nodded understandingly. "Stress during pregnancy is very common, Ms. Harper. Let's start with some basic questions and then we can discuss ways to manage it."
She took my blood pressure, frowning slightly at the reading. "It's elevated, but not dangerously so. Tell me about these stressors."
I found myself opening up more than I'd intended. The legal battles with my father, the complex relationship with Devon, the pressure of running my company while navigating a high-stakes personal life. With each word, I felt some of the weight lifting from my shoulders.
"The good news is that you're still very early in your pregnancy," Dr. Martinez said gently. "While chronic stress isn't ideal, occasional stress won't harm your baby. However, we need to work on some coping strategies."
She handed me several pamphlets on prenatal care and stress management. "I'd also recommend considering counseling. Pregnancy brings up many emotions, especially when the circumstances are complicated."
I stared at the materials in my hands, feeling overwhelmed. "What if... what if I'm not ready for this? What if the stress gets worse?"
"Those are valid concerns," she said, her voice compassionate. "You have options, Ms. Harper. But whatever you decide, you don't have to face it alone. There are support systems available."
I moved to the window, looking out at the busy street below. Sunlight glinted off car windshields, and pedestrians hurried past, each wrapped in their own lives, their own stories. My hand drifted to my stomach again. This tiny life—unexpected, unplanned—suddenly felt both terrifying and precious.
"Thank you, doctor," I said quietly, folding the pamphlets and tucking them into my purse. "I need some time to think."