Aria’s POV

It was Patrick, Clarence, the little boy, Jasper and Sophia. They were seated on a table not too far from ours.

My wolf’s fur rippled along my spine. I sat down, my voice flat.

“Fine. This works.”

Rowland glanced at the table too. Realization flickered in his eyes. He now understood why I had chosen this restaurant.

He looked wounded, knowing that I was using him.

“If you want to leave, go,” I murmured, patting his shoulder lightly. “No one’s chaining you here.”

His body went taut under my hand, heat flaring. My breath ghosted his ear; he flushed, his scent spiking with something warm and electric.

He immediately plastered a smile on his face and pulled out my chair like some storybook gentleman, his ears tinted red.

The server reappeared. “Since you don’t have a reservation, there might be a wait. Would you like to order desserts?”

“I’ll have the raspberry Black Forest,” Rowland said without looking at the menu.

My head snapped up slightly. I hadn’t tasted that in years.

“I’m sorry,” the server stammered, “we don’t offer—”

A black card hit the table.

“If the chef can’t make it, they can be replaced.”

I blinked. What in the Moon’s name is he doing?

The server paled but nodded. “I’ll ask the kitchen immediately.”

As she scurried away, Rowland turned to me with wide, sparkling eyes. He looked like a literal puppy.

I sighed. “Don’t bully people just because you have some money.”

His shoulders dropped like a wilted flower.

“But the chef’s bio said he used to work at the Fountain Opera House. They’re known for raspberry Black Forest...your favorite...” he muttered.

My heart stuttered. My wolf’s ears perked.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice too steady.

“Nothing.” He turned away, petulant, like an offended pup.

I let it go, staring out the window. My fingers curled under the table, my knuckles bone-white.

After all these years... he remembered.

The breeze outside carried night-blooming flowers. The moon reflected in the glass; in my white dress, I felt like a ghost or a goddess, something lost between forms.

Rowland stared at me, mesmerized, covering his mouth like he thought his blush could hide behind it as he stared at my reflection at the glass.

At the next table, unrest simmered.

Patrick’s eyes burned holes in the side of my face. His scent mixed with anger, disbelief curdled the air.

Clarence stirred her spoon, metal against porcelain. Sophia toyed with her hair, trying to disappear.

“I need to use the restroom.” I said to Rowland.

The words slipped from my lips like a blade. My wolf was restless beneath my skin, ears pinned back, tail low, stalking irritation.

I pushed back my chair and stood.

Predictably, Rowland rose too like a persistent pup. I flashed him a glare sharp enough to make an Alpha flinch, and he sank back down without a word.

I could feel Clarence’s eyes burning into my back as I left my chair.

In the hallway, the noise of the restaurant faded. The air grew cooler. My senses sharpened.

Rowland’s scent lingered behind me. I could tell he was watching me.

When I glanced back, he wasn’t smiling anymore. His gaze had hardened, becoming aristocratic and distant, like a wolf in stillness. It caught my breath for a moment how quickly his playful veneer could vanish, revealing something bred for dominance.

My grandmother once told me wolves were born with masks. I never believed her until I met the Darvin family.

Inside the restroom, I turned on the tap and let cold water rush over my hands. My reflection stared back at me...gold ringed my pupils for a heartbeat before I forced it away, not wanting to lose control.

Clarence appeared in the doorway and caught me rifling through a file in the sink.

She froze.

“Weren’t you looking for me?” I asked, lifting my gaze. My voice was ice.

Clarence shivered. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

I tossed the file to her. It slapped against her palms like a death sentence.

“Take a look.”

She flipped through page after page. The file contained photos, dates, transactions, witness statements, shadows of her past made solid. Her breath hitched. Panic soured the air.

“You’ve been spying on me?! Since when?!”

Her voice echoed, too loud, like a rabbit screaming in a den of wolves.

I stared at her, hollow, looking for anger and finding nothing but exhaustion.

“Did you really think you and Patrick fooled anyone?” I chuckled. “Your act was pathetic even before I saw the truth.”

Clarence’s knuckles whitened on her purse. “What... what do you want?”

What did I want?

Justice? Blood?

I didn’t know anymore.

“Did you rush to reunite because you finally acquired Margaret’s shares?” I asked, my voice low. “You must think Darvin Group is your little kingdom. What makes you think you can just come at any time to reap where you didn’t sow?”

Clarence’s eyes sharpened, ego stitching her fear back together.

“Aria,” she hissed, “watch your mouth.”

I let out a soft, dangerous laugh.

“Or what?”

She lifted her chin like she thought she could look down on me.

“If you leak this, I’ll use legal means to protect myself.”

“Legal means?” I echoed. “Clarence, darling, you and I know you would fail if you ply that route.”

Her pulse stuttered. I smelled the fear in her scent.

“You really think being the majority shareholder makes you safe?” I stepped closer. “Darvin Group is mine. And so is every consequence waiting for you.”

Her facade cracked. Just a little, but it was enough.

“Aria, your mother couldn’t handle me,” she snapped. “What makes you think you can?”