Chapter 108
Aria’s POV
Seeing Ethan approach made my anger flare even hotter, but I kept my focus on the call.
“Yes, I have substantial evidence,” I said into the receiver. “Thank you for your help p>
I hung up and then Ethan was standing right in front of me.
“Aria, Grandma Rose only says those things because she cares about us. You brought a gift today, which shows respect, but isn’t the greatest respect just honoring what elders want? Stop being difficult. Do this for Grandma Rose—let’s go home p>
He reached for my arm, but I stepped back.”Good timing. Marcus scratched my car. My parking camera caught everything. You should see this p>
Ethan blinked, seeming to notice the deep gouges in the red Bentley’s paint for the first time. A car he’d never seen before—one I’d bought myself.
I held up my phone screen. The dashcam footage played silently:
Marcus rushing toward the vehicle with a piece of steel rod, beating the body wildly, dragging the metal along the paint in vicious strokes, then kicking the car repeatedly before storming off.
Ethan’s jaw clenched. “Aria, don’t panic. Let me call him and p>
“I already called the police,” I said calmly. “This is my new car. Not expensive—just five hundred thousand. You can transfer the money directly p>
“The police? Isn’t that extreme?” His voice rose with panic. “Aria, he’s a child. He doesn’t understand. Why are you making such a big deal out of this p>
“Doesn’t understand, or just rotten from the start? Should I post this online and let people decide p>
He froze. I pulled my phone back.
“Also, I sent the video to the Holt family group chat,” I continued coolly.
“I’ve been raising Marcus for two years. If I don’t let the elders see his true nature now, they’ll probably blame me for corrupting him later when he’s older p>
“The family group?” Ethan’s face went white. He fumbled for his own phone, saw the video already posted—past the recall window. His face flushed crimson.
He’d made his protectiveness too obvious. And he knew it.
He took a breath, softening his tone.
“Aria, children need guidance, not punishment. If you do this, how can he face the family? Grandma Rose and Mom are still here. You don’t want them upset too, do you p>
“Cancel the police report. I’ll pay for the car. I’ll make Marcus apologize properly p>
The notification chimed. Five hundred thousand dollars, transferred instantly.
I glanced at the screen without reaction. Just numbers.
“I’m not canceling the report,” I said, opening my car door. “And honestly, I think a police record will teach Marcus more than any apology ever could. Spare the rod, spoil the child—Ethan, maybe you should use this opportunity to reflect too p>
I slid behind the wheel as his phone erupted with notifications—probably the family group chat blowing up, but that wasn’t my problem anymore.
I started the engine and pulled away smoothly, leaving him standing there.
In my rearview mirror, I saw him start forward, then stop as his phone rang. Even from a distance, I could hear Margaret’s shrill voice through the speaker:
“Ethan Holt! Look what your son did! You’ve humiliated this entire family! Get back here immediately and bring that little brat with you p>
The call cut off abruptly.
I didn’t look back again.
He wanted to protect Marcus? Fine. Let him deal with the consequences of that choice.
It was late by the time I pulled into my driveway. The house was dark, quiet. Exactly what I needed.
But my phone buzzed before I could even turn off the engine.
A notification from my assistant:
[Handled everything at the station. You’re all set. Marcus received an official warning—since he’s a minor, they couldn’t do much more, but it’s on record. The Holts weren’t happy about your refusal to mediate p>
I texted back: [Good. Thank you p>
I sat there in the driver’s seat for a moment, staring at the house through the windshield. My phone buzzed again—this time, an incoming call. Grandma Rose.
My thumb hovered over the screen. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to just go inside and pour myself a drink and pretend this whole day hadn’t happened.
But I answered. “Hello p>
Silence on the other end. Then rustling, like she was adjusting her grip on the phone.
I was about to speak again when I heard voices in the background. Grandma Rose’s voice, sharp and frustrated:
“*Aria’s attitude is getting out of hand. First this stunt with the car, now refusing to come home. Someone needs to put her in her place p>
Margaret’s voice, dripping with smugness: “*I told you, Mom. She’s been getting too bold. You’ve been too soft on her p>
And then, clearer than anything else, Grandma Rose again: “*Listen, I know Aria’s temper is flaring right now. But she’s still more useful to this family than you or Sophie ever could be p>
“*I’m old, but I’m not blind. The second Aria stepped away from Ethan, that Clara woman started circling. And look what happened—I was right p>
The call dropped.
I sat there, phone still pressed to my ear, staring at the call duration. Ten seconds. Just long enough for me to hear exactly what I was never supposed to hear.
My chest went cold. Hollow.
They knew. They all knew about Clara. About Ethan’s affair.
And Grandma Rose—the one person I thought actually cared about me, actually saw me as more than a tool—she’d known all along.
She’d let me walk into that house two years ago thinking I was Ethan’s mate.
Let me endure Margaret’s cruelty and Sophie’s mockery and Marcus’s hatred. Let me work myself to exhaustion trying to prove I belonged, trying to earn their approval, trying to be enough.
And the whole time, she knew. She knew Ethan had someone else. She knew I was just a placeholder, a shield, a convenient cover story.
She knew, and she let it happen anyway.
Because I was *useful*. Because my business skills benefited the Pack. Because keeping me around meant Clara stayed in the shadows where she belonged.
That’s all I’d ever been to them. A tool. An asset. Something to be managed and manipulated and discarded when I stopped serving their purposes.
I thought about the past two years. All the times Grandma Rose had defended me, had seemed to take my side. I’d been so grateful, so desperate for any scrap of kindness from that family.
Now I understood. She hadn’t been protecting me. She’d been protecting her investment.
The tears that pricked at my eyes were infuriating. I blinked them back hard, refusing to let them fall.
I was done crying over the Holts. Done wasting my emotions on people who’d never seen me as human.
Then a sharp knock on my car window made me jump.
My head whipped toward the sound.
Damian stood outside, his tall frame backlit by the porch light.
Even through the tinted glass, I could see the concern etched into his features—the slight furrow between his brows, the tightness around his mouth.
How long had he been standing there?