The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 142

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Aria’s POV

I arranged the antique watches in Father’s glass cabinet with meticulous care, my fingers lingering on a vintage Patek Philippe he’d received from some oil maghate. The birthday lunch had concluded an hour ago, but I’d been coerced into staying to help organize is gift collection–another performance of family harmony for the departing guests to witness.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting elongated shadows across the study’s hardwood floor. Despite the warmth of the afternoon, a chill permeated the room. Victoria hovered nearby, her cream silk dress almost glowing in the sunlight, her practiced smile never reaching her eyes.

Aunt Frances approached, champagne flute still in hand despite the official end of the celebration. She glanced around before leaning close.

“I must say, I’m surprised about Scarlett and Ethan’s engagement,” she whispered, her voice slightly slurred from the Dom Pérignon. “I thought you two were quite the item before…”

I arranged my features into a mask of indifference. “Quite unexpected, wasn’t it? But Scarlett is much

better suited for Ethan than I ever was.”

Frances’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But you were the one engaged to him. How did it all shift to Scarlett

so quickly? The Blake family must have been thrown for a loop.”

“Perhaps you should ask Victoria about that,” I suggested, my voice low and even. “She seems to have

orchestrated quite the coup.”

Frances’s eyes widened as she glanced toward my stepmother, who was engaged in conversation with one

of Father’s business associates.

“You should leave soon, Frances,” I added. “The performance is over for today.”

As she walked away, I noticed Father declining his usual post–lunch Macallan. He’d been doing that lately-

refusing his favorite whisky despite its prominence in s evening ritual for as long as I could remember.

Another sign something wasn’t right.

After finishing with the cabinet, I headed upstairs to retrieve my purse from my old bedroom. The room

had been preserved like a museum exhibit–a shrine to my past life in this house, though Victoria had

gradually been replacing my possessions with guest room amenities. As I pushed open the door, I froze.

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Chapter 142

Scarlett was there, rummaging through my dresser drawers, her hands frantically pushing aside old

journals and keepsakes.

“Looking for something?” I asked coldly.

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She whirled around, her face shifting from panic to fury in an instant. Her hand closed around something

in the drawer.

“This is all your fault!” she shrieked, advancing toward me. “I lost my baby!”

I saw her intention before she moved–the glint of rage in her eyes, her manicured nails aimed at my face.

I sidestepped quickly, catching her wrist as she lunged.

“Touch me, and you’ll regret it,” I said, my voice deadly calm.

The sound of heels clicking rapidly on hardwood approached, and Victoria burst into the room, her perfect

façade cracking at the sight of me restraining her daughter.

“Let go of her this instant!” Victoria commanded, her voice dripping with contempt. “You’ve always been so

brutish, Aria. No wonder Ethan preferred Scarlett.”

I released Scarlett’s wrist but maintained my position. “Perhaps you should teach your daughter to respect

other people’s privacy before judging my behavior. And next time she wants to steal something, tell her to

wear gloves.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Victoria’s expression transformed instantly, her contemptuous glare melting into a warm, maternal smile as one of Father’s business associates passed by the open door.

“Girls, are you alright? William is asking for you downstairs, Scarlett darling.”

“We’re fine, just catching up,” Victoria replied sweetly, her hand protectively on Scarlett’s shoulder.

After they left, I called for Elsa.

“Please change all the bedding in this room and discard it,” I instructed her. “I don’t know what she’s

touched, but I don’t want any of it staying here.”

Elsa nodded, her eyes conveying silent understanding. As I moved toward the stairs, I overheard two society matrons of Victoria’s age whispering by the landing.

“William should really discipline that girl more firmly,” one murmured. “So sharp–tongued. Not a lady’s

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Chapter 142

grace about her.”

I straightened my spine and continued past them without acknowledgment.

Back in my old bedroom, I asked Elsa to lock the door and change the locks.

“Only give the new key to me,” I instructed. “No one else.”

She nodded. “I understand, Miss Aria.”

My phone vibrated in my purse. A text from Devon:

[Free tonight? Red Maple Lodge, 8pm.]

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