Chapter 30
Aria’s POV
"Yes," I called back, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll be out in a minute."
"Are you okay? You've been gone awhile."
I glanced at Devon, whose eyes held a challenge. "I'm fine. Just... touching up my makeup."
"Well, don't take too long. Your father is getting impatient."
"I'll be right out," I promised, praying he would leave.
After a moment, I heard his footsteps retreat. Devon's grip on me relaxed slightly, but the intensity in his eyes remained.
"I don't like you with him," he stated flatly. "When you're with me, I don't want you entangled with other men."
"We're not entangled," I protested. "It's just lunch."
"See that it stays that way." His tone left no room for argument. "My place, eight o'clock tonight. Don't be late."
With that, he released me and stepped back, adjusting his tie. "I'll leave first. Wait three minutes before you follow."
As he turned to go, I caught his arm. "What about Caroline Hayes?"
Something like amusement flickered in his eyes. "What about her?"
"Your mother wants you to marry her," I said, unable to keep the accusation from my voice. "For a business merger."
"My mother wants many things," Devon replied cryptically. "Eight o'clock, Aria. Don't make me come looking for you."
After he left, I took a moment to compose myself, straightening my dress and checking my appearance in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, and my lips slightly swollen from Devon's kisses. I applied fresh lipstick and took several deep breaths before returning to the dining room.
"There you are," William greeted me with thinly veiled impatience. "We were beginning to worry."
"Sorry," I murmured, sliding back into my seat beside Ethan. "I ran into someone I know."
Ethan's hand found mine under the table. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," I replied, carefully extracting my hand from his. "What did I miss?"
"We were just discussing your and Ethan's engagement," Marianne said brightly. "We think it's time to make it official again, with an announcement in the Times."
I froze, fork halfway to my mouth. "Excuse me?"
"Both our families agree it's for the best," William stated, his tone making it clear this wasn't up for debate. "The Blake-Harper merger depends on strong family ties."
"You mean it depends on selling your daughter to secure a business deal," I said, unable to contain my anger.
"Aria," William warned. "This is hardly the place—"
"I need some air," I interrupted, dropping my napkin on the table and rising from my seat. "Excuse me."
I headed for the exit, but William caught up to me in the hallway leading to the main dining room, grabbing my arm to stop me.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, voice low but furious. "You're embarrassing our family."
"No, you're embarrassing yourself by trying to force me into a marriage with a man who cheated on me," I retorted, pulling my arm free. "With my stepsister, I might add."
William's face flushed with anger. "Keep your voice down. And that accusation is ridiculous. Scarlett would never—"
"Oh, please," I scoffed. "Why are you so determined to push me toward Ethan? Is it really just about the merger? Or is it because you can't stand the thought of me being independent, of having something that belongs just to me?"
"This isn't about your independence," William hissed. "It's about your future. The Harper name. Our legacy."
"My legacy," I countered. "Not yours. Not Victoria's. Not Scarlett's."
"Speaking of legacies," William's voice took on a dangerous edge, "don't forget that your mother's beach house—the one you're so protective of—legally belongs to me until your twenty-fifth birthday. If you want any hope of claiming it, you'll stop this childish rebellion and do what's best for the family."
The threat was clear, and it struck me like a physical blow. That beach house was the last connection I had to my mother, filled with memories of happier times before Victoria and Scarlett entered our lives.
"You would really hold that over me?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Mom wanted me to have that house. It was her wish."
"Your mother also wanted you to be secure and successful," William replied, his tone softening slightly. "The Blake connection ensures both."
I stared at him, suddenly seeing him with perfect clarity. "You know what Ethan is. You know he's a playboy who can't stay faithful to save his life. Yet you're willing to push your own daughter into his arms? What kind of father does that?"
William's jaw tightened. "The kind who sees the bigger picture."
"The kind who puts business before family," I corrected bitterly.
A thought struck me, so obvious I couldn't believe I hadn't considered it before. "Why not have Scarlett marry Ethan if the merger is so important? She's a Harper too, after all. At least by marriage."
William's reaction was immediate and telling—he paled slightly, eyes widening before he quickly composed himself. "Don't be absurd. Scarlett isn't suitable for Ethan. Besides, the Blakes want you. You're Elizabeth's daughter."
The mention of my mother made my heart ache, but I pushed the pain aside. "How convenient for everyone except me."
William glanced toward the private dining room, then back at me. "We should return. They're waiting."
I took a deep breath, considering my options. Open defiance would cost me the beach house and possibly my trust fund, which Stellar Impressions desperately needed. Continued resistance would only strengthen William's resolve.
Perhaps Elsa had been right this morning. Sometimes appearing to bend was the wisest course.
"Fine," I said finally. "Let's go back."
William looked surprised by my acquiescence but nodded approvingly. As we walked back to the dining room, I composed my features into a mask of calm acceptance.
"Sorry about that," I said as we rejoined Marianne and Ethan. "I just needed a moment to process everything. It's a lot to take in."
Ethan's face lit up with hope, while Marianne reached across the table to pat my hand. "We understand, dear. This is a big decision."
"I'll think about the engagement announcement," I conceded, watching my father's expression shift to satisfaction. "But I need some time."
"Of course," Marianne agreed readily. "We can discuss the details later."
As the conversation shifted to wedding venues and dates, I nodded and smiled at appropriate intervals, all while plotting my next move. They thought they had won, that I had capitulated to their plans for my life.
They couldn't have been more wrong.
By the time we finished lunch, my plan was taking shape. Ethan leaned in to kiss my cheek, his touch lingering.
"I've missed you so much, Aria," he whispered. "Let me take you shopping on Fifth Avenue? Like we used to?"
I gave him a noncommittal smile. "That's good."