Chapter 230
Aria's POV
Soon afternoon arrived. The elevator doors at Harper Group opened with a soft chime, and I stepped out just as my father was striding toward them. William Harper's face clouded the moment he saw me, his jaw tightening in that familiar way that preceded disappointment.
"I heard the bail hearing didn't go well," I said, trying to sound neutral despite the tension crackling between us.
He didn't respond. Instead, he gave me a hard stare, his eyes raking over me with unmistakable reproach. The unspoken accusation hung in the air—that somehow, I should have prevented Scarlett's predicament or fixed it afterward.
"I have meetings all day," I added, filling the silence. "We can discuss Scarlett's situation this evening if you'd like."
William's only response was a withering glare before he brushed past me. I kept my spine straight, my professional smile firmly in place until the elevator doors closed behind him. Only then did I let my shoulders drop slightly, the weight of his disapproval as familiar as it was painful.
I walked toward the second bank of elevators, pressing the button with perhaps more force than necessary. When the doors opened, I was surprised to find a man already inside—tall, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that spoke of quality rather than flash.
"Ms. Harper," he said with a slight nod. "I'm Jeremy Pierce. Anna scheduled me to accompany you to the Westfield meeting."
I frowned as I stepped in. "I don't need an assistant, Jeremy. This is a meeting I can handle alone."
"It's my first day," he replied smoothly, his expression pleasant but unwavering. "If I take it upon myself to leave, I might find myself unemployed before dinner."
The doors closed, and I sighed, mentally cursing Anna's overreach. "Fine. But you're there to observe and take notes. That's all."
Jeremy nodded, but something in his eyes—a flicker of amusement, perhaps—suggested he wasn't intimidated. As the elevator descended, I pulled out my phone to review my presentation one last time.
My thumb froze mid-scroll as a headline caught my eye: "Tech Titan Devon Kane Announces Engagement to Socialite Mandy Stevens".
The words seemed to burn themselves into my retina. My chest tightened as if someone had reached in and squeezed my lungs. I couldn't breathe for a moment. The hollowness spread through me, cold and empty, as I tapped the article with a finger that suddenly felt numb. There they were—Devon and Mandy at some charity gala, her hand possessively on his arm, a diamond ring catching the light. His expression was unreadable, that familiar mask I'd seen so many times.
I tried to swallow but my throat had gone dry. Why was I reacting this way? Devon had never been mine. Our arrangement was purely transactional. Yet something inside me cracked at seeing the announcement so boldly displayed.
"Commercial marriages are common in their circles," Jeremy commented, his gaze fixed on the phone screen I hadn't realized he could see. "The Kane family needs the Stevens' political connections on the East Coast. Purely a business decision."
I locked my phone screen, my fingers trembling slightly. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to regain composure. "I didn't ask for your analysis."
Jeremy didn't respond, but when we reached the parking garage, he smoothly took the keys from my hand. "I'll drive. You can review your meeting materials."
I wanted to object but found I lacked the energy. The news of Devon's engagement had knocked something loose inside me, something I hadn't realized was there to begin with. I settled into the passenger seat, turning my phone face down on my lap, unable to bear seeing that headline again.
At the client's office, I began my presentation on autopilot, walking through the marketing strategy we'd developed for their luxury skincare line. But halfway through, when the CFO asked about projected ROI comparisons across different demographic segments, my mind went completely blank. Devon's eyes, gray and intense, flashed before me. The memory of his hands, strong and sure. The way he'd looked at me the night I'd had too much to drink...
"The data indicates..." I started, then faltered.
"As Ms. Harper was about to explain," Jeremy interjected seamlessly, "the strategy shows a 25% increase in market share within the key demographics outlined on page seven of your packet. The ROI projections are particularly strong in the 35-to-45 segment, where brand loyalty metrics suggest a retention rate of 68% after initial conversion."
I watched in stunned silence as Jeremy navigated through the rest of the presentation with a level of knowledge and confidence that no first-day assistant should possess. The clients were impressed, asking questions that Jeremy answered with data I was certain hadn't been in my briefing materials.
Outside, after the contracts were signed, I missed a step coming down the building's entrance. Jeremy's hand caught my elbow, steadying me with surprising strength.
"Careful, Aria," he said, my first name slipping out naturally.
"Thank you for... stepping in," I said reluctantly.
"We should celebrate this win," he suggested, releasing my arm. "There's an excellent seafood place just around the corner."
"Thanks, but I should get back to the office. There's other work waiting."
Jeremy smiled, undeterred. "Consider it a welcome dinner for your new team member? I promise, their black pepper crab is worth the detour."
I hesitated, then nodded. Part of me just wanted to be anywhere but alone with my thoughts about Devon's engagement.
The restaurant was a boisterous seafood shack with plastic tablecloths and the intoxicating aroma of spices and butter. Jeremy ordered confidently, and soon our table was covered with dishes that seemed at odds with his polished appearance.
"Here, try this," he said, deftly cracking a crab claw and extracting the meat. "Signature black pepper shrimp."
As I reached for it, my gaze drifted to the entrance, and my heart stopped. Devon stood there, his tall frame unmistakable, his gray eyes locked directly on our table. Something dark and possessive flashed across his face, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Beside him stood Noah Pierce, his expression equally frosty.
A strange mix of emotions washed over me—anger at his engagement, hurt that he hadn't told me himself, and beneath it all, an unwelcome thrill at seeing him here. I forced a laugh at something Jeremy said, leaning in slightly closer than necessary, pretending I hadn't seen them. The movement drew Jeremy's attention to the door, but his expression revealed nothing.
"What a coincidence," Devon said, his voice carrying across the restaurant as he approached our table. The words were casual, but his tone was anything but. His eyes never left mine, intense and searching, as if trying to read every thought behind my face.
"Finding YOU here, Aria."