Aria’s POV
Alia and Chloe both fell silent.
“The fact that Sophia swallowed her pride and ca to my office today ans Patrick arranged this.”
My eyes narrowed, my thoughts sharpening like claws unsheathed.
“What?” Alia and Chloe asked at the sa ti.
Alia was the first to catch on. Her expression shifted as understanding dawned.
“You want to lure them into exposing themselves,” she said slowly. “This is a trap.”
Her tone wavered between disbelief and concern.
“What do you an...” Chloe began, then stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened. “Wait... Aria, are you planning to play along and see what they’re really up to?”
“Exactly.”
I smiled, but not the cold, distant smile I’d worn outside. This one was warm.
“My whereabouts have been tightly controlled these past few days. Seeing no movent from , Patrick must think I’m helpless and cornered,” I said. “If this drags on without a clean explanation, public opinion will fully turn. Darvin Group’s reputation will recover, and I’ll be crushed under it. That’s exactly what Patrick wants.”
I paused, then continued, my voice lowering.
“But instead of pushing harder, he sent Sophia to extend an olive branch. That tells there’s sothing bigger at play. Sothing more important than simply ruining .”
Sothing my wolf didn’t like.
“I need to be careful.”
The room fell silent.
Alia and Chloe exchanged glances, the seriousness in their eyes mirroring each other.
“If that’s the case...” Alia hesitated. “Do you want us to go with you to Darvin Villa tomorrow?”
“No,” I said gently. “Even if I wanted you to, they wouldn’t agree. And with today’s spectacle, they won’t dare touch . Not with so many witnesses.”
I squeezed their hands reassuringly.
Still, the tension in the room didn’t ease. The air felt heavy, almost oppressive.
In the corner, Jackson huddled quietly, trying his best to be invisible.
Then, an elderly voice cut through the silence.
“We could go with her.”
All three of us turned.
Rowland was approaching, accompanied by the sa three figures from earlier.
“Sorry for not knocking,” the middle aged woman said first, offering an apologetic yet warm smile. Her gaze lingered on my face a second longer than necessary in a sharp and assessing manner, like an old wolf studying a cub destined for greatness.
“Since Rowland brought you,” I replied calmly, eting her gaze, “of course it’s fine.”
I forced a polite smile, even though my instincts were already on high alert. These people... I didn’t know who they were, yet sothing about their presence tugged at my wolf, a vague familiarity I couldn’t place. Still, I stepped forward, letting my arms support them.
The elderly couple both reached for at the sa ti. The sudden tension made the fur along my spine prickle. They turned to each other, glaring with the kind of stubborn pride only the old alpha of a pack could carry.
“ first,” the elderly woman snapped, slapping the man’s hand away.
“I’m older,” the man grumbled, crossing his arms, swaying slightly, and then coughing as if he were a tree bending in the wind.
I fought a snicker, but I caught the sharp edge in the woman’s gaze as she cursed him silently. The scent of her irritation was faint, but my wolf caught it imdiately.
The middle aged woman was watching quietly, her lips twitching as if she wanted to laugh, but she held herself back. My wolf found what they were doing... amusing.
Rowland stood to the side, his own amusent evident, and I glanced at him, pleading silently with my eyes for backup. But he just shrugged, that infuriatingly casual look on his face that said, Not my circus, not my wolves.
Both the elderly man and Rowland were now receiving my wolf’s sharpest glare. Fine. If they wanted to play alpha, I’d do it. I supported each of them with an arm as we moved toward the office.
Their behavior had been... strange since they arrived. Perhaps Rowland had deliberately brought them, or perhaps it was that flicker of recognition I felt deep in my senses. I didn’t refuse. My wolf didn’t feel threatened, and that was enough.
The elderly woman’s delicate fingers brushed my arm. My wolf twitched at the subtle energy she radiated. I’d seen it before in my mother, at her age, refined and poised. And yet... looking at her hand, I couldn’t help but glance at the elderly man’s, knotted and gnarled, like withered roots. Ti had not been kind.
The elderly woman sighed softly.
Finally, they were seated across from my desk. She patted my hand gently. “Good girl.”
The man’s usual teasing was gone. His gaze was serious, almost reverent. “Thank you, dear,” he said, and I felt the weight of that gratitude.
“It’s nothing. You’re too kind,” I murmured, trying not to let my wolf’s thrill show.
The middle aged woman had been following quietly, her presence asured, but I could feel her analyzing every move, every heartbeat.
Then she spoke, cutting through the tension. “Aria... do you know who we are?”
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