Chapter 193
Aria's POV
"You're forgetting," William slammed his hand onto the desk, his knuckles whitening with the impact, "who runs this company."
I stood up, meeting my father's gaze directly. His eyes, the same amber shade as mine, were ablaze with barely contained fury. The familiar cold knot formed in my stomach—the one that had been there since childhood whenever he raised his voice.
"And you're forgetting," I said, keeping my voice steady despite my racing pulse, "that this company isn't yours alone."
Our raised voices had drawn attention. Through the glass wall of the office, I saw the few remaining employees nervously glancing in our direction. William turned sharply.
"What are you looking at?" he barked. "Get back to work!"
They scattered quickly, files clutched to chests, heads down. William turned back to me, lowering his voice but not his intensity. I noticed the vein pulsing at his temple—the warning sign I'd learned to recognize years ago.
"Withdraw the SEC report. Immediately."
"I'm sorry," I shook my head, swallowing hard but maintaining eye contact. "She violated federal law. It's out of my hands now."
William took a deep breath, his chest expanding beneath his custom-tailored suit. For a moment, I thought he might strike me. My body tensed, preparing for impact. Instead, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to make the glass walls tremble.
I stood alone by the window, my fingers clenched so tightly they hurt. Slowly, I uncurled them, watching the white marks on my palms fade back to pink. The New York night skyline stretched before me, indifferent to the war I'd just declared. My legs felt weak, but I refused to sit down. I wouldn't collapse, not even in private.
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Devon's POV
Just thinking about how Calvin Reed had groped Aria at the party earlier made me extremely agitated. Since he was still in the hospital, I had planned to come to Eden for a drink after work to clear my head, but I never expected Calvin Reed to show up on his own. Perfect.
I sat in the VIP section of Eden, observing Calvin Reed on the opposite sofa. The white bandage wrapped around his head stood out starkly against his dark hair—a reminder of our last encounter. His eyes remained fixed on me, completely ignoring the women moving through my exclusive club. I didn't miss how his gaze periodically darted toward the exit—a man waiting for something, or someone.
"Not interested in any of these girls?" I asked, taking a small sip of whiskey, noting the slight tremble in his left hand.
Reed smiled thinly. "I've met someone recently. Makes your offerings look like costume jewelry."
My jaw tightened involuntarily. "Is that so?" I kept my voice neutral, though I already suspected who he was referring to.
"Let's talk business," Reed set down his glass, wincing slightly as the movement jostled his injured head. "I'm interested in your Old Town redevelopment project. I'd like to partner."
"How are things with Harper Group?" I asked directly, watching his pupils dilate slightly.
Reed's eyes flashed. "Progressing well. Especially with Ms. Aria Harper."
The sound of her name in his mouth bothered me more than it should. I felt a sudden tension in my shoulders, an urge to reach across the table. Instead, I glanced toward the bar where a woman had been watching our table for the past fifteen minutes. She caught my eye and smiled—a practiced smile that didn't reach her eyes.
I recognized the type immediately. The chestnut hair, the slip dress, the careful way she angled her body—all designed to resemble Aria. Too deliberate, too studied. Something was wrong.
I signaled to Marcus with a subtle nod. "Excuse me. Something requires my attention."
As I approached the bar, the woman—Anya, according to Marcus's earlier briefing—straightened up. Her eyes tracked my movement with too much precision for a casual admirer.
"Mr. Kane," she greeted, her voice a practiced attempt at Aria's cadence. "I've been hoping to meet you."
I allowed my gaze to linger, pretending interest. "Have you now?"
"I've heard so much about you." She leaned closer, her perfume expensive but lacking Aria's signature scent. "Perhaps we could speak somewhere more private?"
"I have a suite upstairs," I said, noting the slight tensing of her shoulders. "Wait for me there. I have some business to conclude first."
Her eyes narrowed momentarily before she composed herself. "Don't keep me waiting too long."
"Marcus will show you up," I replied, watching as my assistant appeared beside her. "I'll join you shortly."
As she walked away with Marcus, I returned to Reed, my mind calculating. Whoever sent her didn't just want information—the resemblance to Aria was too specific. This was personal.
"Someone you know?" Reed asked, his fingers tapping against his glass.
"Someone I'm about to know better," I replied, my voice deliberately suggestive. "Now, you were saying about Harper Group?"
Reed suddenly leaned forward. "I imagine Ms. Harper would be quite pleased to learn about everything you have done for her."
"That," I lowered my voice, not bothering to mask the warning in my tone, "doesn't need to reach her." Ever.
The conversation continued for another ten minutes—just long enough for Anya to get comfortable upstairs, just long enough for Marcus to perform a more thorough security check. When my phone vibrated with Marcus's message, I excused myself and headed for the elevator.
---
The moment I entered the top-floor suite, I shifted from cautious to alert. Anya sat on the sofa, legs crossed, playing the role of seductress waiting for her mark. Up close, the differences between her and Aria were even more apparent. The eyes lacked Aria's intelligence. The posture was too practiced, too deliberate.
But what caught my attention was the unusual ring on her right hand—too bulky, with a small protrusion that didn't match its design. Poison, most likely.
"Mr. Kane," Anya smiled, approaching me. "I'm so glad we finally—"
I grabbed her wrist, my fingers pressing directly onto the ring. "Clever design. What's inside it?"
Her expression hardened instantly. Her free hand shot toward my neck, but I caught it mid-air. The thought that someone would send this woman, disguised as Aria, to harm me triggered something cold and focused inside.
"Marcus!" I called, my voice steady despite the adrenaline now coursing through me.
Marcus entered immediately, restraining Anya with practiced efficiency.
"If she doesn't tell us who sent her," I straightened my cuffs, noting the small smudge of blood on my sleeve with detachment, "make sure she wishes she could die." I turned to Marcus, adding, "Your security check was inadequate. Three months' salary deducted."
As I walked out, I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that this was just the beginning. Whoever wanted me dead had chosen Aria's appearance as the weapon. The thought of her being involved, even unknowingly, left a bitter taste in my mouth.
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Aria's POV
The next day, I had just finished my morning conference call when my phone vibrated with a text from Calvin Reed:
"Ms. Harper, please join me at Bridgewood Equestrian Club to discuss partnership details. Bring the Harper Group materials. Don't worry—I won't do anything you don't want me to."
The last sentence made my skin crawl. I frowned, dialing Anna's number. "Can you come with me to meet Reed?"
"I'm sorry," Anna's voice sounded weak. "I have a fever and I'm at the hospital. I can't accompany you today."
Just as I hung up, William knocked and entered my room. His face was still flushed with anger from our earlier confrontation.
"We'll go to the company together."
"That won't be necessary," I grabbed my bag, avoiding his eyes. "I have other plans."
As I left the house and headed toward Bridgewood Equestrian Club, my phone vibrated again. A text from "Sponsor": "Where are you?"