Chapter 162
Aria's POV
I looked down at her with disdain. "I don't appreciate being morally blackmailed. Get up."
Under my withering gaze, Julie finally stood and returned to her chair, tears streaming down her face.
"There are nearly three million dollars unaccounted for in the Harper Group financials," she whispered after a moment. "They've been hiding it as 'market research expenses,' but it's being funneled into private accounts."
My pulse quickened, but I kept my expression neutral. "And whose accounts might those be?"
Julie hesitated, glancing nervously at the door. "I'm not the one who took the money, I swear. It's someone in the Harper family."
"If you expect me not to press charges for corporate espionage, you'll need to be much more specific," I said coldly. "Names, dates, account numbers—everything you know."
"I'll tell you what I know, but I want something in return," Julie said, her survival instincts kicking in. "I want you to hire the best lawyer to defend me if this gets out."
I studied her for a moment. "Done. Now talk."
Julie slid a thumb drive across the table. "It's all here. Transaction records, account numbers, dates—everything I could find."
I pocketed the drive. "I'll be in touch. And Julie? If I find out you've withheld anything, our deal is off."
---
I returned to Harper Group, my mind racing with what I'd learned. As I stepped off the elevator, Julie hurried over with a manila envelope.
"The encrypted files you requested," she said loudly enough for others to hear, then whispered, "Remember your promise."
I nodded curtly, taking the envelope and heading to my office. Once alone, I quickly scanned the contents. Just as I suspected—substantial sums being diverted to offshore accounts controlled by Victoria. The pieces were falling into place.
I threw myself into work, drafting proposals for upcoming collaborations, determined to maintain the appearance of normality. My phone buzzed with a text from my father's secretary: "The chairman would like to see you immediately."
I typed a quick reply: "In the middle of urgent project work. Will stop by when I'm finished."
Ten minutes later, another text: "The chairman insists."
I smiled grimly to myself. Let him insist. I gathered my laptop and the files from Julie, slipping them into my bag. I wasn't going to leave anything valuable unattended again.
As I walked toward the elevator, I could feel the secretary's anxious gaze following me. I kept my stride purposeful, my head high. She wouldn't dare stop me physically, and William's authority only extended as far as people's willingness to enforce it.
---
"I need your most ruthless financial lawyer," I said without preamble as I settled into the private booth at Serenity Spa & Resort on the Upper West Side.
Ryan had already ordered for both of us—lobster bisque and a kale salad for me, steak for himself. He'd secured one of the private dining alcoves that overlooked Central Park, ensuring our conversation would remain private.
"Hello to you too, Aria," he chuckled, cracking open a lobster claw for me. "Bad day?"
"I've been busy infiltrating Harper Group's executive team," I said, accepting the perfectly extracted lobster meat he offered. "I need someone who can help me make sense of what I've found."
Ryan's eyebrows shot up. "How did you manage that? Last I heard, William was keeping you at arm's length from any real power."
"Devon Kane's influence opened some doors," I admitted, watching Ryan's expression carefully. "Now I need to know what to do with what I've found."
"What exactly have you discovered?" Ryan asked, lowering his voice.
I explained the financial discrepancies, Victoria's offshore accounts, and my suspicions about my mother's estate. Ryan listened attentively, occasionally asking pointed questions that revealed his own financial acumen.
"You need Morgan Feldman," he said finally. "Former prosecutor, now senior partner at Feldman & Associates. She specializes in corporate fraud and family estate disputes."
I nodded, making a mental note of the name. "Can you arrange a meeting?"
"Consider it done," Ryan said, raising his wine glass in a toast. "To bringing down the wicked stepmother."
My phone vibrated against the table. Devon's name flashed on the screen. My fingers tensed involuntarily as I picked up the phone, heart accelerating slightly.
"Working late?" Devon's deep voice came through the line. The words themselves were casual, but his tone carried an edge that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
"Yes, still at the office," I lied, my voice steady despite the sudden dryness in my mouth. "Finalizing some proposals."
The silence that followed stretched for three full seconds. I could almost feel Devon's presence through the phone, analyzing every syllable, every breath.
"I see." His voice dropped half an octave lower, soft yet somehow more intense. A quiet exhale that might have been a laugh followed his words. "Don't work too hard."
He hung up before I could respond. My fingers moved quickly over the screen: "Might be another hour or so. Everything okay?"
I stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear, but nothing came. The silence felt deliberate, pointed. I set my phone down, noticing my hand wasn't entirely steady. Devon had said so little, yet I felt exposed, as if he'd seen right through my words to where I was sitting with Ryan.
I glanced up to find Ryan watching me, his expression curious but concerned.
"Devon Kane?" he asked, nodding at my phone.
"Yes," I admitted, running my finger around the rim of my water glass. "It's... complicated."
Ryan raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "With Kane, it always is. Just be careful, Aria. Men like him don't play by the same rules as the rest of us."
About ten minutes later, Ryan's gaze suddenly fixed on the entrance of Serenity Spa & Resort. His expression shifted from casual to cautious in a heartbeat.
"Kane is here," he said quietly.