The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 124: Chapter 124 What reason did Aria have to keep being at odds with me?

Ethan’s POV

I stared at my phone, the screen now black where Aria’s name had been.

She’d hung up on me.

Hung up. Mid-sentence.

My wolf snarled inside me, furious and humiliated. How dare she—

"Ethan!" Grandma Rose’s voice snapped me back to reality. She was still holding the phone, her face pale and drawn. "What just happened? Did Aria actually say she’s leaving you?"

"She’s bluffing," I said quickly, though my jaw was tight. "She’s just angry. She’ll calm down."

But even as I said it, something cold and uncomfortable twisted in my gut.

When Aria had said she didn’t need a divorce—that we need to do is break up—I’d felt a spike of genuine fear.

For half a second, I thought she’d figured it out. That she knew about the fake certificate.

But that was impossible. She didn’t have the resources to dig that deep. And without money or Pack backing, she had nowhere to go.

She was just lashing out. That’s all this was.

"Grandma, don’t worry," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. "Aria’s upset about the Clara situation. She’s trying to make a point. She’ll come around."

Grandma Rose didn’t look convinced. She set the phone down slowly, her expression hardening.

"I used to think your mother was exaggerating," she said quietly. "Margaret always said Aria was too pampered, too spoiled. I defended that girl. I thought she was sweet, reasonable..."

She shook her head. "But now? I’m starting to think I was wrong. She doesn’t know when to stop."

Margaret crossed her arms, looking vindicated.

"I told you, Mom. Aria’s been coddled for too long. Maybe it’s time we stop catering to her tantrums. Let her stew for a while. She’ll come crawling back soon enough."

Grandma considered this, then nodded slowly. "Perhaps you’re right."

But then her gaze shifted, and I saw the worry return. "What about the company, though? Without Aria handling those projects... Gerald said the cash flow is already strained."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, my father’s voice cut through the room.

"You don’t need to worry about that anymore."

I turned. Dad—Gerald Holt—strode into the room, his coat still on, his expression smug.

He’d clearly overheard the tail end of our conversation.

"Gerald!" Margaret hurried over to take his coat, her face lighting up. "You’re home early."

I inclined my head respectfully, though guilt pricked at me. I hadn’t exactly delivered on the tasks Dad had given me before he left town.

But he didn’t seem upset today. In fact, he looked... pleased.

He settled into the armchair across from Grandma Rose, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest.

"Mom," he said, "you don’t need to worry about the company. I’ve secured a very powerful investor."

Margaret’s eyes widened. "You mean... Mr. Wang?"

Dad let out a low chuckle. "Wang? He’s a decent player in his own circle. But compared to the investor I’ve brought in? He’s not even worth mentioning."

Grandma leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Gerald, who are you talking about?"

Dad’s gaze slid to me, sharp and assessing. "Ethan. In this city, who holds the most power? Who controls the real money, the real influence?"

My pulse quickened. There was only one family that fit that description.

"The Smiths?" I ventured carefully.

"Exactly." Dad’s smile widened. "The V&A Group is investing in Silver Creek Pack. I met with his people this week. "

"They reviewed our core projects, and without even asking for a sit-down, they agreed. The contracts are already drawn up."

My mind reeled.

The V&A Group. The wealthiest group in the region. Their empire spanned commercial real estate, luxury developments, tech ventures—he was untouchable.

If he was backing us...

Margaret practically squealed. "Gerald, are you serious? The Smith? That’s incredible!"

Even Grandma Rose, who rarely showed emotion, looked genuinely impressed. "Gerald, how did you manage this?"

Dad shrugged modestly, though I could see the pride in his eyes. "I have my connections. I met with several potential investors this week," he said smoothly.

"One of them had a connection to the Blackwoods. They reviewed our core projects, and without even asking for a meeting, they agreed to invest. The contract’s already been drawn up."

Margaret clasped her hands together like she was praying. "Thank Goddess. Thank Goddess!"

Grandma nodded slowly, her earlier worry evaporating. "If we have the V&A Group behind us... then we really don’t need Aria anymore, do we?"

"Exactly," Dad said. "Let her throw her tantrum. We’ll be fine."

I should have felt relieved.

But instead, I felt... uneasy.

I thought back to a few weeks ago—that strange encounter in the parking garage.

I’d run into the heiress from the Smith family. A woman. She wouldn’t get out of her car, wouldn’t show her face. But she’d taken my business card.

At the time, I’d thought it was just a coincidence.

But now...

What if she was the one who pushed this investment through? What could her purpose be?

Maybe I was overthinking it.

I’d already sent Clara away, and the company didn’t have to worry anymore. What reason did Aria have to keep being at odds with me?