Free Web NovelChapter 297: Chapter 297
Aria’s POV
The car rolled to a stop, purring like a contented beast beneath us.
We all climbed out together. Chloe eyed me sideways, her chin tilted.
"That was your ex-husband, Alpha Nathan?"
I arched a brow, not bothering to answer. She already knew who he was.
Amelia’s gaze lingered on me, her voice coated in caution. "What did he give you? You don’t like him anymore. You’re divorced now. Don’t think about going back."
Their protectiveness would’ve annoyed me once. Now... it warmed the scars buried deep within me.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"Relax," I huffed, half a laugh escaping.
"Patrick was offloading Darvin Group shares to anyone but me," I explained, shaking the document lightly. Nathan’s scent still clung to it.
"Nathan bought them all. He called it compensation. For me and Lana."
Chloe whistled in a dramatic manner. "Well, at least the mutt has a conscience. If he wants to give it? Take it. It’s not a bad thing."
A muscle in my jaw twitched. Mutt.
My wolf’s hackles lifted, not in defense of Nathan, but of the memory of how fiercely I once loved him.
Amelia leaned closer to the document, frowning for a heartbeat before relaxing. "Aria, don’t go soft on him."
I smirked and tugged both of them inside. Their concern was sweet, but unnecessary.
"I’ve moved on," I said. "He’s just a part of my past."
"Come on," I said, reaching for the metal box on the shelf. "Let’s look at the music scores."
Chloe hovered, suddenly focused. When I opened the box and offered the wrapped sheet music to her, her energy shifted.
She was excited and breathless. "Is this really your grandmother’s heirloom?" she asked, her voice trembling.
My heart stumbled, claws scraping inside my ribs. I nodded, because what else was there? "So I was told."
Amelia peeked over our shoulders. "Isn’t this the Symphony of Prosperity by Antigonus?"
Chloe didn’t answer. She just gripped my hand as if the paper might float away, like fate itself was perched between her fingers.
"This is one of the pages," she breathed. "A literal page of the Symphony of Prosperity manuscript. This was believed lost. No one’s ever confirmed seeing a single piece, until now. How did your grandmother get this? Who exactly was your grandma?"
My mind raced with memories of my grandmother...her soft hands, the warm tea she usually prepared for me, lullabies sung in a language I never learned, her scent, her gray eyes which were stern yet loving.
"I only knew her as a regular Grandma." I shrugged.
"No regular grandma has the Symphony of Prosperity Manuscript" Chloe replied with a shake of her head.
"The Osborne family," Amelia murmured. "Maybe it came from them?"
Chloe’s eyes flared. "Do you want to reconnect with them? You’re not Margaret. Her cut ties don’t apply to you."
Reconnect...?
My stomach twisted. The Osborne name rang of power, lineage, old money. Their blood carried magic, from what little I remembered. Some whispered they were tied to old werewolf lines of nobles, before the title faded. But my grandmother? She never told me anything about that before she died.
"I don’t know," I admitted quietly. "Not right now."
Chloe deflated dramatically. "Fine," she sighed. "But put this in a safe before someone smells the value on it."
I promised I would. They left together, Chloe muttering about fate and treasure, Amelia soothing her. I watched them go, silence closing in like snowfall.
When the door shut, I stared at the metal box.
I lifted it. My fingers traced the worn edges, as if answers might rise from the grooves. Guilt pricked under my skin. I should have asked more about the past. I should have listened deeper to grandma before she died.
I swallowed hard and retrieved the safe key. The lock clicked. My mind drifted with unspooling memories: the piano in the estate, lessons by moonlight, her knowing eyes when she taught me to feel music instead of read it. Like she knew the manuscript would one day matter.
Like she knew I would one day matter.
Maybe... the score was truly hers.
Maybe it was our legacy.
Maybe I’ve been living a story written before I was born.
My pulse thrummed. My wolf pressed against my skin, as if ready to shift and run.
A thought struck like lightning.
What if my grandmother wasn’t ordinary?
What if I wasn’t either?
My heart skipped, my claws tingled beneath my skin.
From what Amelia and Chloe said, Antigonus was supposedly from Asterfell. Same era as my grandmother. Same circles? Same world? The idea was so ridiculous it made my head spin. My wolf paced inside me, tail flicking with irritation.
Could Grandma have known someone like that?
Could she have stolen something so priceless?
Or been gifted it? Every explanation felt like a fantasy, something out of a legend, not the life of the woman who used to braid my hair by moonlight.
The confusion pressed against my skull like a migraine. I forced myself to breathe, claws threatening to break through my fingertips.
"Aria, Lana’s awake." Kara’s warm voice drifted from the hallway.
I blinked up at the enormous clock on the wall. Lana should be sleeping. Maybe the commotion from earlier had been enough to stir her.
"I’ll go check on her," I said, pushing myself to my feet.
The moment I opened her door, a tiny voice squealed, "Mommy!"
Joy flared in my chest like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. My wolf’s ears perked, the maternal instinct flowing strong and fierce. I rushed to her side and sat. Lana reached up, her plump little arms lifted in demand. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from me as I scooped her close.
Her scent soothed every frayed nerve. My wolf purred with pride, nuzzling forward inside me. But suddenly, I went still. There was a tapping sound against my back.
I pulled her away gently. In her hand was a small pink drum.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
I hadn’t bought that.
I never bought her anything hard or sharp. Only plush safe things. Things that couldn’t bruise her soft skin.
Where... had this come from?
Aria’s POV
The little drum felt familiar in the way nightmares sometimes do, something seen long ago, just out of reach. My fingers tightened around it, energy prickling along my skin.
"Kara," I called, carrying Lana toward the kitchen.
Kara was stirring rice cereal. She looked up. "Yes, dear?"
"Do you recognize this?" I held up the toy.
She frowned, leaning close. "Why would I buy a drum? I wouldn’t give her something she could hurt herself with." She shuddered.
Exactly.
My pulse quickened. If Kara didn’t buy it... and I didn’t... then who...
A cold dread slithered down my spine, making my wolf bare her teeth.
"Has anyone strange visited Shevron Estates lately?" My voice dropped low, instinctively sharpened by paranoia and experience.
Kara stiffened. Her eyes flashed amber for just a second. "No," she said carefully. "You’ve been busy, so I’ve been here. No one unusual has come."
Shevron Estates was warded and well protected. Any unfamiliar person entering should’ve triggered a reaction. And yet...
I tossed the drum into the trash with more force than necessary. The hollow thud echoed through the quiet kitchen like a warning bell.
"Let’s just feed Lana," I muttered, though my mind was racing.
I sat, cradling Lana while feeding her tiny spoonfuls of cereal. She giggled, messy and innocent, unmoved by my tension. I kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent again.
My wolf pressed close to my heart, whispering:
We will protect her, watch her and hunt anyone who threatens her.
Kara removed her apron and picked up the garbage bag and took it outside.
Lana curled against me, humming her little tune between spoonfuls of rice cereal.
Kara soon returned. She watched Lana, laughing softly. "See? I spend more time with Lana, but she’s so much closer to you." Her voice was fond and teasing.
A smile tugged at my mouth. For a moment, peace settled over me like a blanket. My wolf nuzzled that feeling, wishing it could last.
Then, my phone rang, shattering the quiet.
I knew who it was before I even looked at it. It was Rowland. I had used a unique ringtone for his calls, one that matched him perfectly.
"What’s up?" I answered.
I didn’t expect his next words to make my stomach drop.
"Sophia’s out of jail."
"What?" My brows pulled together sharply; the peace evaporated.
Rowland continued, his voice like gravel and thunder.
"She was supposed to do six months. Uncle Nathan arranged it, Darvin family was ready to abandon her. But Patrick and Margaret bailed her out. Reporters were waiting at the gate, like they planned the whole thing."
He exhaled. "Aria, something’s off."
My claws pressed just beneath the skin of my fingertips. The Darvin family always stank of secrets, but this... this smelled like bait.
"The scandals online haven’t died down. Patrick has been dodging questions." I muttered, my mind racing. Was he planning to flee? Then why pull her out now? Why parade her in front of cameras?
"What about Clarence?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous.
"I don’t know yet. I called you the second I noticed Sophia was released," Rowland said. Loyal as always. My wolf trusted him more than most. I thanked him and ended the call.
I began typing, my fingers flying across the keyboard. Before I could send anything, Amelia’s message popped up:
[Clarence moved out of the hotel.]
My heartbeat stumbled. Clarence moved, Sophia was released, bail posted publicly...every piece was twisting together like teeth in a trap.
What are Patrick and Margaret planning? How could Margaret let Patrick convince her to fall back to his side, after all the evidence of his betrayal that I anonymously sent her?
My wolf growled, pacing.
[Aria, check the livestream. Sophia just got out.] Amelia sent.
I handed Lana to Kara. My arms felt suddenly empty without her warmth.
I went into my study and lit the screen to my computer. I didn’t even need to search, the top headline blazed back at me:
#SophiaReleased, Claims Online Rumors Are a Conspiracy!
That word —conspiracy’ felt like a claw dragged down my spine.
I clicked.
Sophia appeared on-screen, pale as moonlit bone. Prison had hollowed her out. She had cracked lips, faded beauty, her eyes were burning like a cornered animal. She looked like prey pretending to be the hunter. Margaret and Patrick were standing by her sides.
I turned the volume up.
"My mother died in that car accident over ten years ago!" Sophia’s voice trembled, rehearsed but emotional. "I don’t know who started these rumors to frame me and my adoptive father... but I’m grateful to them for taking me in. Whoever is targeting us should confront me directly!"
She sold the lie well. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
Even I could feel the pull of her words like a siren call for the ignorant.
Questions flooded from the reporters like arrows:
"Do you know who’s targeting you, Ms. Sophia Darvin?"
"Mr. Patrick Darvin, is this your first official response to the expos—?"
"Mrs. Margaret Darvin, do you believe her?"
The livestream flickered on my laptop screen, the reporters swarming like a pack of ravenous wolves scenting blood. Their voices overlapped like claws scraping against stone.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless.
"I certainly know!" Sophia’s shrill voice pierced the air, dragging every gaze her way.
