Chapter 62
Aria’s POV
Ethan stormed out, leaving me soaking wet and seething. I caught another glimpse of Scarlett as she quickly retreated from the doorway, no doubt hurrying to position herself advantageously for the coming confrontation.
I threw off the wet covers and headed to the bathroom, peeling off my drenched nightgown. Five minutes wasn't enough time to shower, but I managed to dry off, pull my hair into a messy bun, and throw on a simple white blouse and jeans. I didn't bother with makeup—let Ethan see the dark circles under my eyes and the flush of anger on my cheeks.
By the time I made it downstairs, Ethan was pacing the living room like a caged animal, while my father made excuses about an urgent business call before disappearing into his study.
Ethan whirled to face me as I entered, his expression a storm of anger and fear. "Explain the photos, Aria. Now."
I leaned against the doorframe, deliberately casual. "What's to explain? It's just gossip sites doing what they do best—making mountains out of molehills."
"That's Ryan Winters with his hands all over you!" Ethan hissed, advancing toward me. "The same Ryan Winters you dated before me in college."
"We went out three times freshman year," I corrected him. "Hardly a great romance. And he's an old friend who happens to be sending business my way. Nothing more."
Ethan ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, mussing it in his agitation. "Do you have any idea how this looks? I've got the entire Blake Fashion board texting me this morning, asking if the Harper merger is in jeopardy."
I fought to keep my expression neutral. "How interesting that everyone immediately jumps to business concerns rather than emotional ones. Almost like this engagement is more about stock prices than love."
"That's not fair," Ethan protested, but there was a hollowness to his words. "I was worried about you. About us."
"Were you?" I asked coolly.
Elsa, our housekeeper, appeared in the doorway with a towel for my still-dripping hair. "Miss Aria, you'll catch cold," she fretted, handing me the fluffy white towel.
"Thank you, Elsa," I said gratefully, beginning to towel-dry my hair.
Ethan watched in confusion. "Why is your hair wet?"
"My father's unique wake-up call," I explained dryly. "A pitcher of ice water tends to cut through even the deepest sleep."
Ethan winced, his anger momentarily forgotten. "That seems excessive."
"The Harper family specializes in excessive reactions." I continued drying my hair, using the towel as both shield and moment of reprieve from his intense stare.
When I lowered the towel, Ethan had moved closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Aria, I need to know the truth. Is there something going on between you and Ryan?"
I met his gaze evenly. "No. But don't you think it's strange that paparazzi just happened to be outside a bar in Williamsburg at midnight? That's hardly their usual hunting ground."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting that someone tipped them off. Someone who knew I'd be there and wanted to create trouble." I let my eyes drift meaningfully toward the staircase, where I'd caught a glimpse of white fabric—Scarlett hovering just out of sight.
Ethan followed my gaze but saw nothing. "You think someone is deliberately trying to sabotage our wedding?"
"Don't you?" I countered. "Think about it, Ethan. Who benefits if we break up? Who has a history of manipulating situations to get what they want?"
Understanding dawned slowly on his face. "You can't possibly think Scarlett would—"
"Can't I?" I cut him off. "Strange things have been happening ever since our engagement was announced. My family's beach house mysteriously transferred to her name. These conveniently timed photos. It's almost like someone's testing how strong our relationship really is."
Ethan fell silent, conflict evident in his expression. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he weighed his secret affair with Scarlett against the public engagement to me and all the business advantages it brought.
"I'll have the Blake PR team look into who leaked these photos," he said finally. "If someone is trying to cause trouble, we'll find out who."
"You do that," I agreed, knowing full well what—or rather who—he would find at the end of that investigation. "In the meantime, we should probably be seen together in public. Show a united front."
As Ethan prepared to leave, I walked him to the door. His goodbye kiss felt perfunctory—a performance for anyone who might be watching.
After closing the door behind him, I turned to find Scarlett standing at the foot of the stairs, a vision in white as usual. Her expression was carefully neutral, but I caught the slight trembling of her lower lip—a sign of nervousness she couldn't quite conceal.
"Eavesdropping is such an unattractive habit," I remarked, advancing toward her. "Almost as unattractive as throwing your sister under the bus to cover your own indiscretions."
Scarlett's eyes widened innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" I circled her slowly. "You look pale, Scarlett. Not feeling well? The night air can be so treacherous—maybe you caught a chill while you were out last night?"
Scarlett swallowed hard. "I was home all evening."
"Of course you were," I agreed with false sweetness. "Just like I was simply having a business meeting with an old friend. It's amazing how things can be twisted to look so different in the harsh light of day... or a camera flash."
Scarlett took a step back, her composure slipping. "I should check on Dad. He was upset earlier."
"You do that," I said, watching her retreat hastily toward our father's study.
As she disappeared around the corner, a cold smile played at my lips. Scarlett might think she was clever, but she had no idea who she was really playing against. She had played her hand, and now I would play mine—and unlike her, I wouldn't miss.