Aria’s POV

Patrick cleared his throat.

“Rumors don’t come from nothing, do they?”

He already looked restless, like prey sensing danger.

“Aunt Vivian,” he said quickly, “there were misunderstandings, very absurd ones. We even held a funeral for Clarence. Aria attended.”

I felt several gazes flick toward me.

“Yes,” he continued, swallowing, “I do bear some fault. Due to my lack of self-control, I wronged Margaret. That’s how these rumors spread.”

He watched their faces carefully, measuring reactions like a man calculating survival odds.

“So you cheated,” Vivian said sharply. “Patrick, do you remember what you promised us when you wanted to marry Margaret?”

Her palm slammed onto the coffee table.

The sound cracked like thunder.

“Aunt Vivian, I’ve already forgiven Patrick—”

“You shut up!”

Vivian glared at Margaret, disappointment blazing in her eyes.

She was disciplining a mate who had broken pack rules, yet the injured party was still defending him.

My wolf sneered within me.

“Aunt Vivian, Uncle Jeremiah,” Patrick said suddenly, his voice trembling, “this is all my fault.”

Then...

Thud.

The words and the sound of knees hitting the floor echoed together.

The entire living room went dead silent.

Patrick had knelt down, decisively. Every head turned. Vivian and Jeremiah exchanged dark looks, their brows furrowed.

Kathy let out a soft laugh, it was barely audible but the mockery in it was unmistakable.

I stared at him coldly, my expression as still as ice.

All my wolf saw was submission performed for survival.

“Patrick, what are you doing?” Margaret cried out, panic flooding her scent. “Patrick up quickly!”

She was the one with the strongest reaction.

She rushed forward, grabbing his arm, trying to pull him up as if he’d truly been wronged by the world. Her concern was raw, frantic and genuine.

Patrick rose half-reluctantly, then bent deeply at the waist toward everyone.

“This is indeed my fault,” he said solemnly. “I violated the promise I made when I sought permission to marry Margaret. This kneel is my apology for my momentary confusion. I ask for your forgiveness.”

His eyes were firm.

Margaret immediately brushed at his knees, wiping away dust that wasn’t there, her eyes filled with heartache.

I watched the performance.

Inside, my wolf laughed.

If I didn’t know what kind of man he was and was just meeting hin for the first time, I might have believed this act too.

Actors always knew when to kneel.

“Aunt Vivian, Uncle Jeremiah,” Margaret said urgently, “this matter is over. Please don’t make things difficult for Patrick. I’ve already let it go.”

Vivian’s dissatisfaction deepened. At Margaret’s words, she simply turned her face away, refusing to look at them.

Jeremiah snorted. “His cheating hurt you. Since you don’t care, there’s nothing more we can say.”

Patrick finally relaxed—just for a heartbeat.

Then Jeremiah continued.

“Patrick, I hear you’ve been pressuring Aria, claiming she slandered you, and demanding she explain herself to the media.”

Jeremiah was old. His hair was white as frost, his eyes clouded by age, but when he looked at someone, it was like an eagle fixing its prey.

He tilted his head slightly. The pressure descended instantly.

Patrick’s scent spiked with fear. Sweat bloomed on his forehead.

He glanced at me as though trying to pick my thoughts, but I didn’t react. My stillness made his unease deepen. His gaze dropped. His fingers tugged nervously at his damp suit pants.

He lifted his head, confidence forced back into place.

“Uncle Jeremiah, you don’t know the full story,” he said calmly. “It was Aria who framed me, claiming that I was still having an affair with Clarence, a woman who died over a decade ago, she voluntarily promised to give a public explanation. I never pressured her.”

He averted his gaze to me and smiled wickedly.

“She’s become rebellious,” he continued. “She spread rumors and slandered her own father. As her father, I must clear my name and also teach her a lesson.”

My wolf snarled silently within me.

Jeremiah snorted. “You have to handle the media yourself and put this matter to rest.”

The air froze.

“If you can’t even protect your child,” Jeremiah went on coldly, “then you lack the qualifications and the ability to control the Darvin Group.”

I remained calm and watched everything unfold.

Patrick’s lips twitched.

“When Aria framed Patrick,” Margaret suddenly said, standing up, “did she think about how hard it would be for him to clear his name?”

Her scent surged with the desperation to defend her mate.

Jeremiah ignored her completely.

His gaze stayed locked on Patrick, the cane in his hand angled just enough to be threatening.

“Fine.”

Patrick finally spoke, his smile brittle, his face ashen.

He turned to me.

“Aria, I’ll forgive you this once. You’re still my child. Still a member of the Darvin family. Everything you do represents our reputation. Don’t let this happen again.”

The words made my stomach twist.

I played idly with the bracelet on my wrist, treating his lecture like wind passing through trees.

For the first time, Patrick saw the bracelet.

A look of anger flashed across his face, but with the Osborne family present, he tried to compose himself. Yet I could still feel frustration reeking off him.

My lips curved slightly.

Then he asked.

“What’s that on your hand?”

Margaret froze. Her eyes locked onto my wrist.

The glow of the bracelet was impossible to miss.

“It is the Celestial Bracelet...The Osborne family heirloom!” She shrieked.

Her eyes widened as she stared from my wrist to my face, disbelief crashing over her.

“This was meant for you back then,” Aunt Vivian said calmly, lifting her teacup. “Since you cut ties with the Osborne family, it naturally goes to someone else now.”

She took a sip, then frowned and spat it out.

The room went dead silent. I was in shock. I had thought it was an ordinary bracelet that I had been given. The Osborne family heirloom? My mind reeled.

Margaret and Patrick still had their eyes locked on my bracelet. I cleared my throat and withdrew my hand, letting my sleeve fall to conceal the bracelet.

“But why should Aria get it?”

Margaret’s voice cut sharply through the air, sharp enough to make my wolf stir uneasily beneath my skin. I lifted my eyes just in time to see her glaring at Vivian, her posture rigid, defiant.

“I don’t agree, I can’t let her have it!”