Chapter 248
Aria’s POV
We had a late lunch at a discreet restaurant near the Plaza Hotel, where Caroline ordered champagne before I could request water.
"To new friends," she said, raising her glass. "And to surviving the Kane men."
I hesitated before clinking my glass against hers. "I'm not sure 'surviving' is the right word."
"Isn't it?" Her smile was knowing. "Devon isn't exactly low-maintenance. Neither is Noah, for that matter."
"Why are you being so kind to me?" I asked directly.
Caroline set down her glass, her expression becoming serious. "I've known Devon for years. I was originally supposed to be his suitable match, you know—the perfect Kane bride according to Eleanor's master plan."
I tried not to show my surprise. "What happened?"
"We realized we'd make each other miserable." She shrugged. "Devon needs someone who challenges him, not someone who fits neatly into his world. And frankly, I fell for his best friend instead."
She studied me for a moment. "I initially thought you were just his latest distraction. But seeing how he's moved mountains to protect you this week..." She shook her head slightly. "He's serious about you, Aria. Trust me on that."
Before I could respond, our food arrived. As we ate, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—the wedding venue, the guest list, Caroline's honeymoon plans. I found myself actually enjoying her company, which was unexpected given the circumstances.
It wasn't until we were preparing to leave that Caroline became serious again. "A word of advice," she said quietly. "Devon won't say it, but he needs you right now. More than he's needed anyone in a long time."
"Because of the sleeping issues?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "He told you about that? Interesting." She picked up her purse. "That's part of it. The rest... well, that's his story to tell."
Marcus was waiting outside with the car. As we slid into the backseat, I found myself wondering what other secrets Devon was keeping.
---
When I returned to Devon's penthouse that evening, I found him packing a small overnight bag, his expression grim as he spoke on the phone.
"How bad is it?" he was saying. "...No, I understand. Have the car ready. I'll be there in twenty."
He ended the call when he saw me, but not before I caught the flicker of concern in his eyes.
"You're leaving?" I asked, setting down the shopping bags.
"Something came up with Evelyn." His voice was clipped, professional. "I need to go."
I remembered the quiet woman with the red ruby necklace—the one I'd seen Devon treat with such tenderness. "Is she alright?"
"She will be." He zipped the bag closed. "I'll be gone overnight, possibly longer."
I wanted to ask more, to understand who this woman was to him, but his closed expression made it clear the subject wasn't open for discussion.
"I should thank you," I said instead, changing tactics. "For handling the media situation."
"It was a temporary fix." He checked his watch. "The story will resurface eventually."
"Still, I appreciate it." I hesitated. "And Caroline's invitation... was that your doing too?"
Devon's expression remained neutral. "Caroline makes her own decisions."
"But you spoke to her about me."
"I ensured you wouldn't be ostracized." He slung the bag over his shoulder. "Your father's actions aren't yours."
It was the closest thing to kindness he'd shown me since the news broke. I moved closer, wanting suddenly to touch him, to bridge the strange distance that had formed between us. "Devon—"
His phone buzzed again, and he checked it with a frown. "I have to go. Marcus will be available if you need anything."
"I'll be fine," I said, stepping back.
He paused at the door, his hand on the knob. "Don't listen to any rumors about me while I'm gone. I'll see you at the wedding."
Before I could ask what he meant, he was gone, leaving me alone in his vast apartment with nothing but questions and designer shopping bags for company.
---
For the next several days, Devon remained unreachable. Marcus occasionally texted to check on me, but provided no information about Devon's whereabouts or when he might return. I threw myself into work, desperate to save Harper Group from the fallout of my father's arrest, but the distraction was only partially effective.
By the morning of Caroline's wedding, I'd moved back to my Brooklyn apartment, unable to justify staying in Devon's empty penthouse any longer. As I applied makeup to cover the lingering shadows under my eyes, I wondered if he would even attend the wedding.
The Four Seasons ballroom had been transformed with thousands of white roses and crystal chandeliers. New York's elite filled the space, many of whom I recognized from charity galas and business functions. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a networking goldmine. Today, however, I felt their stares like physical touches—curious, judgmental, pitying.
"Aria!" Caroline called, waving me into the bridal suite. She looked stunning in her custom Vera Wang gown, her happiness evident despite the chaos of last-minute preparations.
"You're glowing," I told her honestly.
"And you look gorgeous," she replied, guiding me to join the other bridesmaids. "Thank you for coming despite everything."
Throughout the pre-ceremony photos and preparations, Caroline kept me close, introducing me to important guests not as "Aria Harper, daughter of the disgraced William Harper," but as "my good friend Aria, founder of Stellar Impressions." It was a small kindness that didn't go unnoticed.
As guests began taking their seats for the ceremony, I found myself scanning the crowd for Devon. The ceremony was about to begin, and he still hadn't appeared.
"Looking for someone?"
I turned to find Mandy Stevens watching me, her white dress somehow managing to be more revealing than the bridesmaids' gowns without technically breaking wedding etiquette.
"Just admiring the decorations," I lied.
"Poor Aria," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Losing your father and your boyfriend in the same week. How tragic."
I kept my expression neutral. "I wasn't aware I'd lost either."
"Oh?" Her eyebrows rose. "Then where's Devon? Certainly not by your side." She leaned closer, her perfume overwhelming. "Perhaps he's finally grown tired of his latest charity case."
Before I could respond, the wedding coordinator called for the bridal party to line up. I took my place, grateful for the reprieve, but Mandy's words had found their target. Where was Devon?
The ceremony proceeded flawlessly, with Caroline and Noah exchanging vows beneath an arch of white roses. I performed my bridesmaid duties mechanically, my mind elsewhere. It wasn't until the cocktail hour began that I spotted Eleanor Kane, Devon's mother, across the room—regal in midnight blue, her eyes coolly assessing the crowd.
Mandy materialized at my side again, champagne in hand. "Mrs. Kane looks magnificent, doesn't she? She's been so supportive of my relationship with Devon."
"Is that so?" I kept my voice level.
"Oh, yes. She believes I'd make an excellent addition to the Kane family." Mandy's smile was triumphant. "Devon values her opinion above all others."
I took a sip of champagne to hide my reaction. "How interesting, considering Devon told me you were nothing more than an unfortunate business obligation."
Her smile faltered slightly. "He's obviously trying to spare your feelings."
"Is he? Then why isn't he here with you right now?"
As if summoned by our conversation, Eleanor Kane approached, her gaze landing squarely on me.
"Ms. Harper," she said, her voice cultured and precise. "I really didn't expect to see you here."
Mandy straightened immediately. "Mrs. Kane, how lovely to see you."