Chapter 288
Aria's POV
The Four Seasons Hotel conference room would be ready in forty-eight hours. Devon's lead attorney, David White, had worked through the night preparing documents—notarized copies of the stock transfer, a timeline of the affair, hospital certifications for the DNA report. Everything needed to be bulletproof.
I sat in Devon's Manhattan apartment at two in the morning, reviewing the press release with Sophia. My hands shook as I held the printed pages.
"You sure about this?" Sophia's voice was gentle. "Once you go public, there's no going back."
I thought of my mother's letter. Be stronger than I was. Be ruthless if you have to be.
"I've been afraid for four years," I said. "It's their turn now."
Devon appeared in the doorway, still in his dress shirt from the meeting with the legal team. He crossed the room and handed me a sheet of paper. "Media list. New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Vogue, Page Six. Every major outlet will be there."
He paused, his gray eyes studying my face. "Your father's lawyer called an hour ago. They want to settle privately."
I looked up at him. "What did you say?"
"That you'll only speak at the press conference."
A cold smile touched my lips. "Good."
---
November 3rd arrived too quickly. The conference room was already packed when I arrived at 1:45 PM. Cameras lined the back wall. Reporters filled every seat, notebooks open, recording devices ready.
I wore the deep blue suit my mother had loved—the one she'd bought me for my Princeton graduation. Devon sat in the first row, his eyes never leaving mine. Behind him, I spotted Harper Group's board members, their faces ranging from curious to hostile.
Anna squeezed my hand as I took my place behind the podium. The room fell silent.
"Thank you all for coming." My voice came out steady, clearer than I'd expected. "I'm Aria Harper-Kane. Elizabeth Harper's daughter. Four years ago, my mother died from what was ruled natural causes. Today, I'm here to tell you—it wasn't."
The room erupted. Camera shutters clicked like rain on windows. I waited for the noise to subside.
"Before her death, my mother left me a safe deposit box. Inside were documents she'd carefully preserved." I nodded to the assistant operating the projector. "Evidence."
The first image filled the screen—William and Victoria on a Hampton beach, bodies pressed close, her hand on his chest. The date stamp read August 2018. Seven months before my mother died.
"These photographs were taken while William Harper was still married to my mother. While Victoria Ross was supposedly just her assistant." I kept my voice flat, factual. "Their relationship clearly exceeded professional boundaries."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I saw Marianne Blake's face pale in the third row.
"But that's not all." I signaled for the next image—the DNA report, blown up so everyone could read the conclusion. "In October 2021, my mother commissioned a paternity test. The results show that Scarlett Harper, my supposed stepsister, is actually my father's biological daughter. Conceived years before he married Victoria. Probability of paternity: 99.97%."
The murmurs became gasps. Several reporters were already typing frantically on their laptops.
Diana Thornton stood from her seat near the front, her gray suit immaculate. "I can confirm," she said in her clear attorney's voice, "that I witnessed Elizabeth Harper's stock transfer one week before her death. Thirty percent of Harper Group shares were legally transferred to her daughter, Aria. The documents are valid and binding."
I met my father's eyes across the room. He sat in the far corner, flanked by lawyers, his face the color of old newspaper. Victoria beside him gripped her handbag so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
"My father," I continued, "concealed this transfer for four years. He continued controlling those shares in my mother's name, claiming to manage them on my behalf. But they were never his to manage. They were mine."
I watched the Harper Group board members exchange glances. The power dynamics had just shifted beneath their feet, and they knew it.
"My mother wrote me a letter." I held up the page, though I didn't need to read it. Every word was carved into my memory. "She said if something happened to her, I should use this evidence to seek justice. So I'm asking you, William Harper—" my voice finally cracked, "—do you want to tell everyone here how my mother really died?"
The silence was absolute. Every camera, every eye, turned to my father.
He stood slowly. His lawyer tried to pull him back down, but William shook him off. He walked to the front of the room like a man approaching his own execution.
I stepped aside, giving him the microphone.
"It's true." His voice sounded hollow, decades older than it had that morning. "All of it. Victoria and I... Scarlett is my daughter. Elizabeth found out about us, and I—" He closed his eyes. "Victoria said Elizabeth would ruin us. After Elizabeth died, I knew it wasn't natural. I knew, and I didn't stop it."
Victoria shot to her feet, but it was too late. The confession was out there, recorded by a hundred devices.
My knees buckled. Devon was beside me instantly, his arm supporting my weight.
"I'm sorry." My father looked at me, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry, Aria. I've lived with this guilt every day. I was too much of a coward to admit it. At least... at least let me preserve what dignity the Harper name has left."
He turned to face the board members. "Effective immediately, Aria Harper-Kane assumes control of her mother's thirty percent stake in Harper Group. I'm resigning as CEO and submitting myself to legal authorities."
The room exploded. Board members scrambled for their phones. Reporters shouted questions. But I could only stand there, Devon's arm around me, watching my father's confession unravel everything I'd known.
I made myself walk back to the microphone.
"I accept my father's resignation." My voice shook but held. "Harper Group was my mother's legacy. I won't let it fall because of family sins. The company will survive this. It has to."
I looked directly at the cameras. "My mother taught me to be strong. Today, I'm honoring that lesson."
Outside, police were already waiting. William surrendered quietly, his head bowed.
Devon guided me through the crowd of reporters, his security team clearing a path. At the car, I turned back to look at the Four Seasons. The building where Harper prestige had finally shattered.
"It's over," I whispered.
Devon opened the car door, his hand steady on my back. "No," he said quietly. "Now the real fight begins. You're a major shareholder now. The board won't make this easy."
I slid into the seat, feeling the weight of my mother's legacy settle onto my shoulders. Through the window, I watched them load my father into a police car.
The woman in the reflection looked like a stranger—stronger, colder, more certain than the girl who'd once begged for his approval.
I touched the pearl necklace at my throat. I did it, Mom. I hope you can rest now.