Chapter 204
Aria's POV
My fingers trembled as I tapped the notification. There it was—a grainy but unmistakable photo of Devon carrying me into his car last night, my face partially obscured but still recognizable to anyone who knew me. The article speculated wildly about his "mysterious companion," with theories ranging from "fashion model" to "society heiress."
I felt a knot form in my stomach. This wasn't just about privacy—this was about Devon and me being connected publicly. The thought both thrilled and terrified me in ways I wasn't ready to examine.
I frantically switched to Twitter. #KaneMysteryWoman was already trending, with thousands of comments dissecting every pixel of that photo. Some eagle-eyed users had begun connecting me to the Harper family.
"God," I whispered, panic rising in my chest. I opened my messages and started typing to Devon: "We need to talk about the photos." I stared at the text for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the send button. What would I even say? That I was worried about being associated with him? That wasn't entirely true, and we both knew it. I deleted the draft, my heart beating faster than it should.
I refreshed Page Six again and noticed most of the photos had already disappeared. Devon's crisis management team must have swung into action. The efficiency with which he protected both our images made me wonder how much I actually meant to him—was I just another problem to be managed?
My ankle throbbed as I carefully slid out of bed. I needed to get back to my own life, my own problems. Whatever temporary sanctuary Devon's penthouse had provided was just that—temporary. I gathered my things, trying to ignore the faint bruises on my neck visible in the bathroom mirror.
Last night's attack felt distant now, replaced by a more immediate social media crisis, but the memory of Devon's arms around me, the intensity in his eyes as he tended to my injuries—that lingered, unwanted but persistent.
I sent Devon a simple message: "Thank you for saving me last night." After waiting a few minutes with no response, I felt a coldness settle in my chest. I called an Uber to take me back to Brooklyn, telling myself the heaviness I felt was just exhaustion.
---
By noon, I was striding through the Harper Group offices, trying to project confidence despite my slightly swollen ankle. Diana intercepted me in the hallway, her expression grim.
"The chairman is on a warpath," she whispered, glancing around to ensure no one could hear. "He fired your assistant Anna this morning."
"What?" I stopped short. "On what grounds?"
"He's trying to cut your department's budget and block your project proposals." Diana lowered her voice further. "It's about the Reed contract. He can't accept that you independently secured it without him."
I straightened my spine, pushing thoughts of Devon and our complicated arrangement to the back of my mind. This was reality—the constant battle for respect in my family's company.
"Where's Anna now?"
"Clearing out her desk." Diana squeezed my arm. "Be careful, Aria. He's looking for you."
"I'll handle it," I said, my resolve hardening. "And Anna is still my assistant. Make sure her access credentials remain active."
Diana nodded, concern evident in her eyes as I headed toward the executive conference room.
I found my father standing at the window, his back to the door. He didn't turn when I entered, but the stiffening of his shoulders told me he knew who it was.
"Where were you yesterday?" he asked, his voice glacial.
"Working remotely," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "Is there a problem?"
He turned then, his face a mask of barely contained anger. "You left your position without authorization, and now I'm told you're actually meeting outside the office to pursue the Reed Company contract. How does that look?"
"Calvin Reed only appreciates competence," I replied, maintaining eye contact even as my stomach tightened.
William slammed his hand on the table. "You think I don't know what's happening? That I don't see how you're trying to undermine my authority?"
I took a deliberate step toward him, channeling the same cold confidence I'd seen in Devon when he faced down threats. "I know about your meetings with the Blakes."
His face paled slightly. "What are you talking about?"
"Three secret meetings in the past month. Garrett has photographic evidence." I kept my voice steady. "How long have you been conspiring with them against me, Father?"
The door opened before he could respond. Anna walked in, her posture defiant despite her obvious nervousness.
"Miss Harper, you wanted these files?" she said, handing me a folder we both knew was empty.
I smiled, grateful for her loyalty in a world where it seemed increasingly rare. "Thank you, Anna. That will be all."
William's face reddened as he realized what was happening. He stormed toward the door, yanking it open with unnecessary force.
"You truly are my daughter," he spat, the words more accusation than compliment.
After he left, I exhaled shakily, sinking into a chair. My phone vibrated with a text from Calvin Reed:
"Ms. Harper, I'd like to invite you to a private viewing of my new collection this evening at 6pm in my Chelsea gallery. A few potential clients who've expressed interest in Harper Group will be attending. Your impressive strategy has caught their attention."
My fingers hovered over the screen. Calvin Reed was notorious for his selective social circle, and an invitation to his private art preview could open doors I'd been struggling to unlock since returning to Harper Group. After yesterday's confrontation with my father and the strange silence from Devon since he'd rescued me, this opportunity felt like a lifeline.
"I'll be there," I texted back, then quickly added, "Thank you for the invitation."