Aria’s POV
The screen flickered, showing an old video of a dead woman’s body covered in a white bedsheet and received in a morgue. Her na was also ntioned in the video. They were all obviously forged.
With the so-called evidence and witnesses presented, the room fell silent, eerily so, like the woods before a hunt.
But the livestream? It buzzed like a hive. With thousands of comnts pouring in.
"So Clarence is dead after all. The scandal was lies!"
"Sophia said Aria was behind it, if that is truly the case, she’s terrifying..."
"Aria is the obvious culprit. She wants to destroy the Darvin family."
"Where are the simps who thought she was pretty? Still drooling over a monster?"
More and more comnts poured in with thousands of people gunning for my throat.
My wolf paced beneath my skin, hackles rising.
The journalist’s gaze locked on . Almost everyone stared.
They were obviously not here to mourn Clarence. They were waiting for a spectacle and they had gotten plenty.
Patrick took the microphone again, his voice trembling with manufactured rage.
"I am outraged by the rumors online, more enraged by the ones spreading them! And after investigating," he said, the words swelling like poison, "I discovered the culprit... is my own daughter. Aria."
Gasps erupted, a chorus of disbelief.
I didn’t flinch.
My wolf stilled inside , watching, calculating.
Let him dig his grave.
"As Aria’s father," Patrick continued, lowering his head as if grief weighed it down, "I am ashad. Clarence saved my wife’s life. We took her orphaned daughter, Sophia, into our ho. We cared for her, loved her just as much as Aria. But Aria grew resentful, jealous and filled with hate."
He dragged my history out like carcasses from shallow graves.
"She stole company secrets. She blad Sophia for her imprisonnt. And recently, when she had Sophia briefly incarcerated, she claid it was justice! Such a child brings sha to . She was expelled from our family, yes. As she said!"
He ended with the tone of a martyr, fists trembling, like he ever felt remorse in his life.
My laugh almost slipped.
Chloe leaned in, whispering, wide-eyed. "Is he really your father?"
She seed confused. Even as an outsider, she knew Sophia’s arrest had nothing to do with . Sophia tried to seduce Nathan, and Nathan retaliated. Yet Patrick dared to twist it into jealousy? Into petty revenge?
I shrugged, a tiny gesture expressing my helplessness.
Williams spat on the marble floor, unfazed by the presence of the reporters and everyone.
"He’s practically halfway in the grave and still spewing bullshit. Shaless old corpse."
His wolf aura flared.
Jonathan and Alia glanced at , seeing how unmoved I was about my father’s speech, they relaxed but maintained their positions by my side.
And Nathan...
Nathan watched with those glacier eyes.
I could feel them like a weight, like a collar, like claws ghosting down my spine.
Patrick kept ranting, his voice rising like a storm.
Until...
A hand appeared out of nowhere, snatching the microphone like a wolf taking down a rabbit.
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
Rowland’s voice cracked like thunder.
He stood there, his eyes blazing, his aura sharp, dominance rolling off him in waves.
He held the microphone high like a trophy.
Rowland’s voice bood across the hall, and even I froze, my jaw slack.
"When did he get up there?"
Williams looked like his eyes might pop out of his skull.
Chloe clicked her tongue. "I have no idea."
Sophia stord toward Rowland, trying to snatch the microphone. Rowland raised the mic higher, teasing her like a wolf dangling food above a pup’s head. The scent of her anger burned acrid in the air.
"Rowland, don’t think you can just do whatever you want because you’re Alpha Nathan’s nephew!" Sophia hissed, her voice cracking.
I could feel my wolf stirring inside , growling low.
Rowland’s patience, however, snapped. He stomped on the projector, the tal groaning under supernatural strength. "All this footage is fake. And those doctors? Staff? They were all bought, all of them."
Gasps and whispers filled the atmosphere. Then there was a frenzy. The journalists buzzed like flies around carrion with bright lights and flashing caras.
"Alpha Rowland, do you have proof?" a reporter demanded, her voice thin and afraid.
Rowland scratched the back of his neck. "Nope."
He grinned. Murmurs filled the room as people wondered why Rowland would cause such a ruckus without proof. The reporters were disappointed.
Rowland kicked the projector again, crushing it until sparks spat out like fireflies fleeing. Then he sauntered back to , his energy like a hot breeze across my senses.
He leaned in, winking. Sothing cool brushed against my palm. I looked down.
It was a USB drive from the projector.
My breath caught. He risked all that... for ? Why?
Emotion swelled in my chest like a storm, I bit my lip, swallowing the strange feeling. I slipped the drive into the hidden compartnt of my bag.
Clarence was alive and probably still in Asterfell. But where did Patrick get that surveillance footage he just played? Where had he gotten it? The USB thrumd with possibility in my bag.
The room bristled with tension, and that was when Margaret erged, a fresh microphone in hand.
"I’m Margaret," she said, her voice trembling with old pain. "Clarence saved my life. These rumors... they can be traced."
Before she could continue, sothing inside snapped. I stepped forward.
"I believe there are questions you all need to answer", I said boldly, my gaze sweeping over the reporters.
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