Chapter 178
Aria''s POV
Her words hit a nerve I thought I'd cauterized long ago. I felt my chest tighten and my throat constrict, old insecurities threatening to surface. But I refused to let her see how she'd affected me. Instead, I forced my lips into a calm smile and kept my breathing steady.
"And yet here you are, jealous of me, wearing white dresses to look pure and innocent when we both know what you really are."
Her face flushed with anger, a red patch appearing high on each cheek. "I am not jealous of you!"
"No?" I raised an eyebrow, feeling the cut on my cheek stretch painfully. "Then why are you copying everything about me? My father's attention, my ex-fiancé, even my mother's beach house. You're nothing but a cheap imitation, Scarlett, and deep down, you know it."
Her control snapped. She grabbed my hair, yanking my head back painfully. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out, tasting blood.
"When Marianne comes back, I'll make sure she knows exactly how manipulative you are," she hissed, her breath hot against my face.
I met her gaze steadily despite the awkward angle and the pain radiating from my scalp. "And I'll make sure she knows exactly what happened between you and Ethan. Every detail."
For a brief moment, doubt flickered in her eyes, and I felt a small surge of satisfaction. I had found the crack in her armor. No matter what happened next, I had planted a seed of uncertainty in Marianne's mind. Whether that would be enough to save me remained to be seen.
As the minutes ticked by, I tested the ropes binding my wrists, feeling the hemp fibers cut deeper into my skin with each subtle movement. My shoulders ached from the strain of being pulled backward, and the cut on my cheek had stopped bleeding but throbbed painfully. None of that mattered. My mind was focused on one thought, turning it over and over: Would Devon come for me?
Then Scarlett suddenly broke into a smile that sent chills down my spine. Her eyes narrowed, and her expression shifted from petulant anger to calculated malice. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number, her gaze locked on mine, almost triumphant.
"I was thinking we should wait for Aunt Marianne to return before deciding what to do," she said, her voice eerily calm. "But why waste time?"
The door opened moments later, and three burly men in black suits entered, positioning themselves behind Scarlett. Their expressions were blank, professional, as they awaited instructions. My throat went dry as I realized what was happening.
"Remember," Scarlett said to the largest of them, her voice dropping to a stage whisper, "don't leave marks." She walked toward the door with a slight sway in her hips, pausing to look back at me with a cold smile. "When Devon Kane had men assault me, he never imagined his woman would end up in my hands, did he?" The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Ice-cold fear spread through my chest and down to my fingertips. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, but I forced myself to appear composed. I stared directly at the approaching guard, trying to control my rapid breathing.
"Do you know who I am?" My voice remained steady despite the tremor I felt inside. "I'm the heir to the Harper Group. If you touch me, you'll face legal consequences." I paused, swallowing hard. "And Devon Kane will personally make sure you regret it."
The closest man smirked, his eyes empty and cold. "Miss, we get paid to do a job. Your threats mean nothing." He reached for my shoulder strap and yanked hard. The expensive silk tore with a sickening sound that seemed to echo in the small room.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. My skin crawled at the thought of his hands on me, but I refused to show fear. I silently promised myself that if I survived this, every person involved would pay.
Just as his fingers hovered over my exposed skin, a deafening gunshot rang out from outside. The men froze. Footsteps thundered in the hallway, growing louder. The door was kicked open with such force it nearly came off its hinges. Marcus led a team of heavily armed security personnel into the room, their movements precise and coordinated. The guards turned to fight back, but they were overwhelmed in seconds.
Behind them all, Devon walked in calmly. His tailored black suit was immaculate, contrasting sharply with the violence around him. His jaw was clenched, eyes dark with a rage I'd never seen before. When his gaze fell on me—bound to the chair with torn clothing—something shifted in his expression. A flash of shock, quickly replaced by a cold fury that transformed his entire face.
In that moment, seeing him there, my carefully constructed defenses crumbled. A single tear slid down my cheek, the first sign of weakness I'd allowed myself to show. I hadn't realized until now how desperately I'd wanted him to come.
Devon approached the guard who had torn my dress, his steps measured and deliberate. "Repeat what you just did to her," he commanded, his voice low and terrifyingly controlled.
The guard paled. "Sir, I was just following orders—"
Before he could finish, Devon pulled out a handgun and fired at the man's knee. The guard collapsed with a howl of agony. I flinched as warm blood spattered across my face, my body tensing with shock.
Devon tucked the gun away and knelt before me. The transition was jarring—the same hands that had just inflicted violence now moved with gentle precision as he slipped his suit jacket around my shoulders. His fingers were careful as he untied the ropes, his touch deliberately light around my raw wrists. The contrast made my breath catch.
"You're safe now," he murmured, his voice for my ears only. There was a softness there I'd rarely heard from him.
When I was finally free, Devon lifted me into his arms without asking, cradling me against his chest as if I weighed nothing. I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady against my side, gradually syncing with my own racing pulse. The warmth of him seeped into my cold skin.
"Marcus," Devon said coldly, "clean this up." The hardness returned to his voice when addressing his employee, making the tenderness he'd shown me feel all the more significant.
He carried me out of the cabin and into the night. The cool air against my skin made me shiver, bringing me back to reality. Devon held me tighter in response, his arm securing me against him as if afraid I might disappear.
"I didn't think you'd come," I whispered, my voice raspy from fear and relief.
His arms tensed around me. "I will always come for you, Aria," he said quietly, but with absolute certainty. The intensity in his words made my chest tighten with an emotion I wasn't ready to name.
Devon placed me in the backseat of his car, sliding in beside me rather than taking the driver's seat. As we pulled away from the cabin, I gazed out the window, watching the trees disappear into darkness.
"How did you find me?" I asked, my voice steadier now, though my hands still trembled slightly.
"I have my methods." His hand found mine in the darkness, thumb brushing over the rope burns on my wrist with unexpected tenderness. "No one takes what's mine."