Chapter 65
Aria’s POV
Ryan’s response came almost immediately: [Intriguing. Come by tomorrow morning. I've got what you need.]
Perfect. Now I just needed to figure out where Scarlett would go next. People with secrets often returned to the same hiding places, thinking them safe. And my sister was nothing if not predictable in her indiscretions.
The next day, wearing dark jeans, a black baseball cap, and oversized sunglasses that covered half my face, I stationed myself outside the Harper estate. I'd borrowed one of Ryan's nondescript sedans and settled in to wait.
My patience was rewarded just after noon when Scarlett emerged, looking nervously over her shoulder before sliding into her Mercedes convertible. I waited until she turned the corner before pulling out to follow her at a discreet distance.
She drove into Manhattan, weaving through midtown traffic before turning onto a quiet side street lined with exclusive boutiques and discreet restaurants. I watched as she valeted her car at Le Petit Jardin, one of the city's most exclusive French restaurants, known for its private dining rooms and strict no-photography policy.
Interesting choice for someone who typically documented her every meal for her social media followers. Today, apparently, she wanted privacy.
I parked a block away and watched as she entered the restaurant, speaking quietly to the maître d' before being escorted toward the back. I waited ten minutes, then approached the restaurant myself, keeping my head down and my sunglasses firmly in place.
"I'm meeting a friend," I told the host, gesturing vaguely toward the rear of the restaurant. "She's already here."
Before he could stop me, I slipped past him, moving quickly but confidently through the main dining area toward the private rooms. I heard his footsteps behind me but ducked into a service corridor just as he passed.
I moved silently down the hallway, peering into each room through the small windows in the doors. In the third room, I spotted Scarlett, nervously arranging and rearranging the silverware. She checked her phone repeatedly, clearly waiting for someone.
I didn't have to wait long to discover who. Less than five minutes later, Ethan Blake strode through the main entrance, his confident swagger unmistakable even from my hiding spot. The host directed him toward the private room, and I pressed myself into an alcove as he passed.
Once he entered the room, I crept closer, positioning myself where I could see through the partially open door and hear their conversation.
"You shouldn't have called me," Ethan said, his voice tight with annoyance. "I told you we need to be careful. The wedding is next week, for God's sake."
"I know, I know," Scarlett replied, her voice taking on that wheedling quality I knew so well. "But this couldn't wait, Ethan. I have something important to tell you."
I watched as she reached into her purse and removed what looked like the same medical papers she'd been clutching at the hospital. She slid them across the table toward him.
"What's this?" he asked, not bothering to look at the documents.
"It's... it's a surprise," Scarlett said, her voice softening in a way that made me want to gag. "I'm pregnant, Ethan. We're going to have a baby."
The color drained from Ethan's face. He finally picked up the papers, scanning them quickly before dropping them as if they'd burned his fingers.
"This isn't happening," he muttered, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "This can't be happening."
Scarlett reached for his hand, but he pulled away. "Aren't you happy? We've created something beautiful—"
"Stop it," Ethan cut her off. "Just stop. Tell me what you want."
Her expression faltered. "What do you mean?"
"A number, Scarlett. Tell me how much it will take to make this go away."
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the shock on my stepsister's face. Poor Scarlett. She'd actually believed Ethan might want this child, might choose her over me and the Blake-Harper merger.
"But I thought... I thought you loved me," she stammered.
Ethan's laugh was cold enough to frost the windows. "Love? This was fun, Scarlett. An exciting diversion. But I'm marrying your sister. I love Aria." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "She is the only woman who will ever be Mrs. Blake. The only woman who will ever bear my children. Do you understand?"
Tears welled in Scarlett's eyes, but Ethan wasn't finished.
"Now, let me make this very clear," he continued, pulling out his checkbook. "You will take care of this... situation. Discreetly. Completely. And we will never speak of it again."
"Ethan, please," Scarlett begged. "This is our baby—"
"It's a problem," he interrupted, scribbling on the check before tearing it out and sliding it across the table. "A fifty-thousand-dollar problem that I expect to be resolved by the end of the week. I know a private clinic in Connecticut. Very discreet. No questions asked."
The check sat between them, a stark white rectangle against the dark wood of the table.
"Our business is concluded," Ethan said, rising from his seat. "Don't contact me again. After the wedding, we can resume a proper brother and sister-in-law relationship. Nothing more."
He strode out of the room without a backward glance, leaving Scarlett staring at the check, tears streaming down her face. I pressed myself into the shadows as he passed, his expression cold and composed once more—the perfect mask of a Blake heir.
When he was gone, I watched as Scarlett's expression transformed from heartbreak to rage. She grabbed the nearest crystal glass and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered spectacularly.
"Aria Harper," she hissed, her voice quivering with hatred. "This is all your fault. You take everything from me. Everything! But I swear, you won't get away with this. I'll make you pay!"
I slipped away before anyone could respond to the commotion, a cold smile playing on my lips. Oh, Scarlett. Always blaming the wrong person. It wasn't me who had written that check. It wasn't me who had dismissed her and her unborn child as a "situation" to be resolved.
But I would certainly use it to my advantage.
As I walked back to my borrowed car, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. The pieces were falling into place—perhaps not exactly as I had planned, but even better in some ways. Scarlett was desperate and angry. Ethan was ruthless and careless. My father was anxious about his business.
And I? I was patient. I was prepared. And now, I had everything I needed to make them all dance to my tune.