Aria's POV
I shouldn't be here.
Every logical part of my brain screams at me to run, to hide, to disappear before Veronica springs whatever trap she's set. But I can't. I won't. My father built Chen Technologies from nothing. He poured his heart and soul into this company. I grew up in these offices, watching him work late nights, celebrating every success.
I'm not letting Veronica destroy his legacy without a fight.
The gala is already in full swing when I arrive. Crystal chandeliers sparkle overhead. Waiters carry champagne on silver trays. Everyone is dressed in expensive gowns and tailored suits. I'm wearing the same jeans and sweater from this afternoon because all my nice clothes are still in Marcus's apartment.
I don't belong here anymore. Everyone's eyes tell me that.
"Is that Aria Chen?" someone whispers.
"I heard she's broke."
"Didn't her fiancé dump her?"
I hold my head high and push through the crowd. I need to find Veronica. I need to confront her before—
"There you are!" Veronica's voice cuts through the noise like a knife. She glides toward me in a blood-red gown, her smile sharp and dangerous. "Aria, darling, we've been looking everywhere for you."
"We need to talk," I say through clenched teeth. "Privately."
"Oh, but this is perfect timing!" Veronica grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "The board is about to make an important announcement. You'll want to hear this."
She pulls me toward the front of the room where a small stage has been set up. Board members stand in a line, their faces carefully blank. I recognize all of them—men and women my father trusted, people who came to our house for dinner, who gave me birthday presents when I was a kid.
None of them will meet my eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Veronica's voice booms through the microphone. The crowd goes quiet. "Thank you all for coming tonight. As you know, Chen Technologies has been going through some changes since my dear husband's passing."
My dear husband. She says it like she cared. Like she didn't spend the last two years of his life stealing from him.
"We've discovered some disturbing information," Veronica continues, her voice dripping with fake sadness. "It pains me to announce this, especially about family, but the board has a responsibility to our shareholders and employees."
My stomach drops. No. She wouldn't. Not here. Not like this.
"We have evidence that someone has been embezzling money from Chen Technologies for the past eighteen months. Nearly ten million dollars, hidden in offshore accounts through a complex web of fake vendors and inflated contracts."
Whispers explode through the crowd. People turn to look at each other, shocked and gossiping.
"And we've traced this theft back to one person." Veronica's eyes lock onto mine. Her smile is pure poison. "My stepdaughter, Aria Chen."
The room erupts. Everyone starts talking at once. Cameras flash—there are reporters here, I realize with horror. This is being filmed. This is going to be news.
"That's a lie!" I shout, but my voice is drowned out by the noise. "Veronica, you know that's a lie!"
"We have documentation," Veronica says smoothly, holding up a folder. "Bank statements, forged signatures, email trails. All pointing directly to Aria. She used her position as project manager and her father's name to steal from the company he built. It's truly heartbreaking."
"Let me see those documents!" I try to push toward the stage, but two security guards appear from nowhere, blocking my path.
"The board has voted to press charges," one of the board members announces. His name is Richard Thompson, and he bounced me on his knee when I was five years old. Now he won't even look at me. "We've already contacted the authorities."
As if on cue, the main doors burst open.
Police officers flood into the gala. Five of them, led by a stern-looking detective with gray hair and tired eyes.
"Aria Chen?" the detective calls out.
The crowd parts like the Red Sea, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room. Every eye is on me. Every camera pointed at me. I can see people holding up their phones, recording this moment. By tomorrow, this will be all over the internet.
"I'm Detective Morrison." He walks toward me, handcuffs already in his hand. "You're under arrest for embezzlement, fraud, and money laundering. You have the right to remain silent—"
"I didn't do anything!" My voice cracks. "This is a setup! Veronica framed me! Check the documents again—those aren't my signatures!"
"Save it for the station," Detective Morrison says. He's not cruel, but he's not sympathetic either. Just doing his job. "We have substantial evidence. You'll have a chance to defend yourself in court."
The handcuffs click around my wrists.
Cold metal. Final.
Cameras flash like lightning. Questions are shouted from every direction:
"Aria, did you steal from your father's company?"
"How much money did you take?"
"Did your fiancé know about this?"
"Miss Chen, look this way!"
I see Lily in the crowd, watching with a satisfied smirk. Marcus stands next to her, his arm around her waist. He actually looks proud, like this was his plan all along.
Maybe it was.
"This way," Detective Morrison says, guiding me toward the door. The crowd follows, a mob of vultures wanting to watch my complete destruction.
As we pass through the main entrance, I see Veronica one last time. She stands on the stage, victorious, holding court like a queen. Our eyes meet.
She mouths two words: "You lose."
The police station is cold and smells like bad coffee and desperation.
They take my fingerprints. My photo. They ask me a million questions I can't answer because I don't know anything about the fake accounts or forged documents. Every time I say "I'm innocent," they look at me like I'm a child lying about stealing cookies.
"You're lucky," Detective Morrison says as he processes my paperwork. "Your bail is set at $100,000. Can you post it?"
I almost laugh. "I have $347 in my bank account."
"Then you'll be staying with us tonight." He doesn't sound happy about it. "You can make phone calls. Contact a bail bondsman. Get a lawyer."
A lawyer. Right. Because I can definitely afford that now.
They put me in a holding cell with two other women. One is passed out in the corner. The other keeps muttering to herself about conspiracy theories. I sit on the metal bench and stare at the wall.
This is my life now. Criminal. Thief. Arrested at my father's charity gala in front of everyone I know.
Tomorrow, my face will be on every news site. "Tech Heiress Arrested for Embezzlement." They won't care that I'm innocent. They won't care that Veronica framed me. All they'll see is another rich girl who thought she was above the law.
My father would be so ashamed.
No. My father would know I didn't do this. He would believe me.
But my father is dead, and nobody else will.
I don't know how long I sit there. Hours, maybe. Time stops meaning anything in this fluorescent-lit box.
Finally, Detective Morrison appears at the cell door. "Chen, you made bail."
I look up, confused. "I don't have anyone to—"
"Someone anonymous posted it for you. You're free to go, but don't leave the city. Trial date will be set within six weeks." He unlocks the door. "You have a good lawyer?"
"I don't have any lawyer."
He hands me a business card. "Try this guy. He does pro-bono work sometimes for cases that seem off. And between you and me?" He lowers his voice. "Something about your case doesn't add up. The evidence came together too perfectly, too fast. Like someone wanted you arrested immediately."
"Because someone did," I say bitterly. "My stepmother."
"Prove it," Detective Morrison says simply. "Get a lawyer. Fight back. Don't just roll over and die."
He walks away, leaving me standing in the police station lobby with nothing but a business card and the clothes on my back.
Outside, it's raining. Of course it is. Because this day needed to get worse.
I start walking. No destination in mind. No home to go back to. No money for a hotel. Just walking through the rain while the city sleeps, wondering how everything went so wrong so fast.
My phone buzzes—it somehow survived this nightmare with 5% battery left.
A text from another unknown number: "Still think the system protects innocent people? Still believe good wins? Meet me at Pier 47 in one hour if you want the truth about your father's death. Come alone. —A Friend"
My father's death.
Everyone said it was a car accident. Tragic. Random. Bad luck.
But what if it wasn't?
What if Veronica killed him?
The rain soaks through my clothes as I stand on the empty street, staring at that message.
This could be another trap. This could be someone trying to hurt me even more.
But what if it's real?
What if I can finally get answers?
I check the time: 2:47 AM.
Pier 47 is thirty minutes away on foot.
I start running.