Chapter 285
Aria’s POV
I looked at the exquisite wedding dress images on the screen, each one more beautiful than the last. My emotions felt impossibly complex. Just hours ago, I'd been questioned by Arthur about being "worthy of marrying into the Kane family," and now I was selecting a wedding dress. The contrast made everything feel surreal, like I was watching someone else's life unfold.
"I don't know." I answered honestly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't even know... if this counts as a real wedding."
Sophia set down the tablet and looked at me seriously. "The meaning of a wedding depends on how you see it. If you think this is just a transaction, then it is. But if you're willing to believe—even just a little bit—that maybe this is the beginning of a new life, then it is."
I fell silent, absorbing her words.
"I can see it," Sophia said softly, reaching for my hand. "Devon really cares about you. Today he risked breaking with his family to save you—Aria, that's not simple possessiveness. That's genuine caring."
I thought about Devon's breakdown in my arms just minutes ago, the words he'd said, the vulnerability and insecurity in his eyes. The way he'd held me like I was the only solid thing in his crumbling world.
Maybe Sophia was right.
Maybe somewhere along the way, without my noticing, this relationship had quietly transformed into something real.
"Then... elegant style it is." I said, making the decision. "Simple, but with design sensibility."
Sophia smiled, her expression brightening. "Perfect. I understand exactly what you need."
At that moment, the bathroom door opened. Devon emerged wearing gray loungewear, his hair still slightly damp and catching the light. His eyes were still somewhat red, but his expression had recovered its usual calm—that mask of control I'd grown so familiar with.
"Ms. Kim." He nodded to Sophia in acknowledgment, his voice steady.
"Mr. Kane." Sophia responded, then tactfully stood. "Aria and I just finished discussing the wedding dress. The designers will come at ten tomorrow morning."
"Thank you for your help." Devon said. "Marcus will drive you home."
"Thanks." Sophia gave me a parting hug, leaning close to whisper in my ear, "Take care of yourself. Call me anytime if you need anything."
I nodded against her shoulder, grateful for her presence in my chaotic life.
After Sophia left, the apartment fell quiet again. The silence felt different now—not uncomfortable, but weighted with unspoken understanding.
Devon walked over to sit beside me on the sofa. He maintained some distance between us, and neither of us spoke for a long moment. I could hear the distant hum of traffic far below, the soft whir of the air conditioning.
Finally, Devon broke the silence. "I'm sorry about what you saw today."
"Don't apologize." I turned to look at him, studying his profile in the soft lamplight. "I told you—I want to be your partner. The kind who can share everything."
He looked at me then, and I saw those complex emotions swirling in his eyes again—gratitude, fear, hope, vulnerability.
Then he extended his hand toward me, palm up. An offering.
I grasped it without hesitation, our fingers intertwining naturally. His hand was warm, solid, real.
"That ruby necklace," I suddenly asked, remembering the woman in the wheelchair, "you gave it to Evelyn, didn't you?"
Devon nodded, his thumb absently stroking the back of my hand. "She's always loved rubies. I thought... at least materially, I could give her the best."
"You're a good person, Devon." I said softly, meaning every word.
His laugh was bitter. "I'm not. I'm just... trying to atone."
"That's still something only a good person would do." I said seriously, squeezing his hand. "Bad people don't feel guilt, much less spend twenty years trying to make amends."
Devon fell silent, his jaw working as he processed my words. Then he pulled me into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me securely. "Thank you, Aria."
"For what?"
"For accepting me." His voice was very soft, almost a whisper against my hair. "Including all those shameful parts of my past."
I nestled into a comfortable position in his arms and closed my eyes, feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever. "Those aren't shameful, Devon. They're part of you—the real, flesh-and-blood you."
The afternoon light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Devon's penthouse, casting a soft glow across the white silk that pooled around my feet. I stood before the three-way mirror, watching my reflection multiply into infinity—a bride in a custom Vera Wang gown, the embodiment of every little girl's dream.
But the woman staring back at me knew better.
"Hold still," Sophia murmured, her fingers fumbling with the delicate buttons running down my spine. Her hands trembled slightly, and I caught her eye in the mirror.
"Sophia?" I turned my head. "You've been quiet all afternoon. What's wrong?"
She blinked rapidly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Nothing. Just... overwhelmed by how beautiful you look." Her voice wavered. "Aria, after the wedding—after everything settles—there's something I need to tell you."
My stomach tightened. "Tell me now."
"No." She shook her head firmly, her dark hair swinging. "Not today. This is your day. Let's just... focus on getting you married, okay?" She squeezed my hand, and I noticed the wetness gathering in her eyes.
I wanted to press her, to demand answers, but something in her expression stopped me. Instead, I squeezed back. "Promise you'll tell me soon?"
"I promise." She stepped back, surveying the dress. "God, Aria. Devon's not going to know what hit him."
I turned back to the mirror, studying the woman in white. The dress was exquisite—an off-shoulder design with delicate lace appliqués that seemed to float across the silk. Simple. Elegant. Everything I'd asked for. Yet beneath the beauty, I felt the weight of what tomorrow truly meant.
Saturday morning arrived with the kind of perfect weather that made people believe in fate. The sky stretched endlessly blue above Saint Bartholomew's Church, where Manhattan's elite gathered in their finest. Camera flashes exploded like fireworks as limousines deposited guests at the entrance.
I sat in the bridal suite, listening to the murmur of voices below. Through the small window, I could see the crowd—hundreds of faces I recognized from society pages and business sections. The Vanderbilts. The Astors. Investment bankers and tech moguls. Politicians and philanthropists.
All here to witness the union of Devon Kane and Aria Harper.
"They're calling it the merger of the decade," Anna, my assistant, whispered as she adjusted my veil. "CNN's outside. So is Bloomberg."
"Of course they are." I touched the pearl necklace at my throat—my mother's. The only piece of her I had left.
Mom, can you see me? I'm doing this for you. All of it.
A knock at the door made my heart jump. "It's time, Miss Harper."