Chapter 160
Aria's POV
The security chief stood beside me, his military posture rigid with professional embarrassment.
"We'll conduct a full investigation, Ms. Harper," he assured me, his voice grave. "Whoever did this bypassed our security protocols with precision."
"Send the footage to my phone," I said, proud that my voice remained steady despite the tremor I felt inside. My office had been ransacked, financial documents were missing, and someone was clearly moving against me. "I'd like to review it more carefully."
I swallowed hard, remembering how I'd felt walking into my office this morning—that moment of frozen disbelief before the anger set in. Someone wanted to intimidate me on my second day as Vice President. The thought hardened something inside me.
"Of course, Ms. Harper. Right away."
I gathered my things, slipping my phone into my tote. "I'll be leaving early today. Personal matters." The lie slid easily from my lips as I adjusted my blazer. Let whoever did this think I was rattled—it would make their next move more predictable.
The ride home felt interminable, my thoughts spinning between suspects. Victoria, always circling like a vulture. Scarlett, desperate to please her mother. My father, perhaps realizing I was getting too close to something. Each possibility made my stomach twist tighter, but beneath the anxiety grew a steady, cold determination.
As I approached the Harper family mansion, I spotted Victoria in the garden, clipping roses with silver shears. She looked up at my approach, and I caught a flash of something cruel in her eyes before it was masked with practiced warmth. My heart rate quickened—there was something different in her confidence today, something that put me on edge.
"Aria, darling! Home so early?" she called, setting down her basket of freshly cut flowers.
"Just wrapping up some things from home today," I replied, my tone carefully neutral while I studied her face. "I see you're back from your... apartment." I let the word hang between us, watching her reaction.
Victoria's smile tightened, but her eyes gleamed with triumph. "Yes, I've moved back from the Madison Avenue apartment. Your father insisted." She touched the necklace at her throat, fingers caressing the stones. "He even gave me this lovely welcome-home gift. Isn't it exquisite? He always knows exactly what I desire."
The way she emphasized the last word made my skin crawl. "How generous of him," I said, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "I hope you're... settling in well. It must be quite an adjustment."
She stepped closer, her perfume—too sweet, too cloying—enveloping me. "Everything always works out for me in the end, Aria. You should remember that." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "No matter how things may appear temporarily."
"Is that a promise or a threat?" I asked, feeling my pulse quicken.
"Oh, darling," she laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "I never threaten. I simply... arrange things. Like this beautiful garden." She gestured to the roses, some vibrant and blooming, others cut and dying in her basket.
"I'll keep it in mind," I replied. "I do hope you continue to... weather all your storms so successfully. Though the forecast might surprise you."
The double meaning wasn't lost on her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but before she could respond, my father's voice boomed from the terrace.
"Aria!" William stood there, martini in hand, his silver hair catching the sunlight. "I didn't expect you home so early."
"Evidently not," I murmured, climbing the stone steps to meet him.
He frowned at my tone, his eyes darting briefly to Victoria. "You should show Victoria more respect. She's my wife, and this is her home too."
"Is it? I thought she preferred the Madison apartment." I kept my voice light, but the challenge was clear. "Or was that just a temporary arrangement while you sorted out your latest... disagreement?"
Victoria's smile didn't falter, but her knuckles whitened around the shears. "Your father and I never truly disagree, Aria. We simply have passionate discussions sometimes. That's what real love is—finding your way back to each other, always."
I felt bile rise in my throat at her saccharine performance.
"Don't start, Aria," my father warned, his eyes hardening. "Not today."
I smiled, a practiced curve of the lips that never reached my eyes. "Actually, I came to review some Harper Group documents. Now that I'm Vice President, I should be more familiar with our operations, don't you think?"
The mention of my new position made his jaw tighten. Both he and Victoria exchanged a look that confirmed my suspicions—one of them was behind the office break-in. Something passed between them, a silent communication that sent a chill through me.
"The company isn't a game, Aria," he warned. "You may be VP now, but don't push your luck."
"I never rely on luck, Father. Only preparation." I moved past him toward the house, feeling their eyes boring into my back. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Don't be late," Victoria called after me. "I'm making something special tonight."
I didn't turn around, but her words lingered in my mind. Everything she did had purpose—what was she planning now?
The evening meal was a battlefield disguised as civility. Victoria played the perfect hostess, serving my father his favorite scotch, her hand lingering on his shoulder as she poured. She turned her attention to me with exaggerated care.
"Lobster, Aria? And some of this lovely garden salad?" She held the serving spoons, her smile tight but eyes gleaming with something that looked disturbingly like anticipation. "I picked the herbs myself this afternoon."
"No, thank you." I pointedly took the dishes from her and placed them in my father's plate instead, watching his face for a reaction. "I think your kindness would be better appreciated by my father. I'm not hungry for anything you've prepared."
Victoria's smile froze, a flash of anger crossing her features before she recovered. "I was only trying to—"
"Be the perfect wife and stepmother?" I finished for her, feeling a surprising surge of courage. "You've been practicing that role for years, haven't you? Long before my mother was gone, from what I hear."
My father slammed his glass down, droplets of scotch splattering the white tablecloth. "That's enough, Aria! You will not speak to Victoria this way in her own home."
"Her home?" I repeated, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "This was my mother's home first. Or have you conveniently forgotten that?"
"Your mother has been gone for four years," he said coldly. "It's time you accepted reality."
Victoria placed a hand on his arm, her wedding ring catching the light. "William, it's all right. I understand Aria's still processing her feelings." She turned to me with false sympathy. "Darling, I know today must have been stressful at the office. Perhaps that's why you're so... on edge."
The knowing look in her eyes confirmed everything. She knew about the break-in—she'd probably orchestrated it herself.
I took a deliberate sip of my water, fighting to control the trembling in my hands. "Strange," I mused, looking directly at Victoria. "I didn't order tea, yet there's such a strong scent of it in the air."
Victoria's cheeks flushed with angry color as she understood my implication. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous softness.
"Don't you?" I countered. "Green tea, specifically. The kind that pretends to be something it's not."
My father looked between us, confusion and annoyance battling on his face. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.
"Nothing important," I replied, standing. "Just noting that some things aren't what they appear to be. Like loyal wives. Or secure offices. Or honest business practices." I met Victoria's gaze steadily. "But don't worry—I'm working on bringing everything to light. Very soon."