Chapter 161 Someone had tried to *frame* me
Aria’s POV
I spun around just in time to see a figure lunging out of the shadows—a man, middle-aged, wild-eyed, with a knife gleaming in his hand.
The blade arced toward me.
Instinct kicked in. I twisted to the side, my body remembering the self-defense classes I’d taken years ago. The knife missed me by inches.
The man recovered fast, coming at me again.
*Where the hell is security?*
I dodged again, my heart slamming against my ribs.
My muscles screamed, adrenaline flooding my veins. I saw an opening—his wrist, exposed—and I moved to grab it, to twist, to disarm him.
But then Vanessa was there.
She threw herself between us.
"NO!"
The knife bit into her wrist, slicing deep. Blood sprayed across the pavement.
Vanessa crumpled with a scream.
Two guards tackled the man from behind, wrenching the knife from his hand. He fought them, snarling, but they pinned him down hard.
I dropped to my knees beside Vanessa.
"Jesus—" My hands were shaking. I yanked my scarf off and pressed it against her wrist, trying to staunch the bleeding. But the cut was deep—too deep. The blood soaked through the fabric in seconds, hot and slick against my palms.
*Arterial bleeding. Fuck.*
"Jennifer!" I screamed. "CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
Jennifer came running, her face white with terror. "Oh my God—Aria, are you hurt? Is that your blood?"
"It’s hers," I said through gritted teeth. "Call 911. NOW."
She fumbled for her phone, hands shaking so badly she almost dropped it.
Vanessa’s eyes rolled back. Her skin was chalk-white, her lips turning blue. She was going into shock.
"Stay with me," I ordered, pressing harder on the wound. "Vanessa, look at me. *Look at me.*"
Her eyelids fluttered. "Queen... Luna..."
"You’re going to be fine," I lied. "The ambulance is coming. Just stay awake. Can you do that?"
She nodded weakly.
But the blood kept coming.
---
Author’s POV
After the ambulance had taken Vanessa away—after the guards had secured the attacker and the police had arrived—a figure emerged from the shadows of the hotel’s side entrance.
Nathan.
He’d watched the whole thing from the moment Aria stepped out of the building. He’d seen the man in the dark clothes, the glint of the knife, the moment Vanessa Crane threw herself into harm’s way.
Now the parking lot was empty, save for the police and the captive.
Nathan walked slowly to the curb. He lit a cigarette, the flame illuminating his sharp, cold features. His eyes drifted to the man being held down by three guards.
He approached.
"Who sent you?" His voice was flat, emotionless.
The man spat on the ground.
Nathan didn’t flinch. He crouched down, took a long drag of his cigarette, and held the glowing end an inch from the man’s face.
"Let me rephrase that," he said softly. "You attacked a member of the Riverside Pack’s family. In front of witnesses. In the middle of a business dinner. You’re going to prison for a long time."
He pulled the cigarette from his lips and pressed it gently between the man’s teeth.
"Smoke up," he said. "It’s the last one you’ll enjoy for a while."
The man’s eyes widened. He didn’t dare move.
Nathan stood, dusted off his hands, and walked to his car without looking back.
He got in, started the engine, and drove away into the night.
---
Aria’s POV
At the hospital, they rushed Vanessa straight into surgery. I sat in the waiting room, my clothes stained with her blood, staring at the double doors that had swallowed her up.
Jennifer sat beside me, wringing her hands.
"She’s going to be okay," she said quietly. "She has to be."
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t thinking about Vanessa anymore.
I was thinking about the man with the knife.
*I know him.*
The realization had been nagging at me since the moment I’d seen his face. And now, sitting in the cold sterile silence of the hospital, it finally clicked.
*He was at the dinner last night. At the Smith estate.*
He was the man who’d stood up during the toasts—the one who’d brought up my past with Ethan, who’d tried to humiliate me in front of everyone.
The one Nathan had quietly escorted out.
*That wasn’t a coincidence.*
My hands curled into fists.
*Someone sent him. Sylvia? Nathan? Both?*
But if they wanted to hurt me, why do it at a public dinner? Why not somewhere private, where there were no witnesses?
*Unless...*
My blood ran cold.
*Unless I wasn’t supposed to get hurt.*
*Unless Vanessa was the target all along.*
I replayed the scene in my head. The way the man had lunged. The way Vanessa had thrown herself in front of me—not once, but *twice*. The way the knife had found her wrist with surgical precision.
*What if this was never about me?*
*What if I was supposed to be the one holding the knife?*
My breath caught.
*What if this whole thing was designed to make me look guilty?*
I thought about Vanessa’s apology. Her extended hand. The way she’d been so calm, so composed all night.
*What if she knew?*
*What if she was in on it?*
But then why would she take a knife to the artery? Why risk her life?
*Unless the plan went wrong. Unless something didn’t go the way it was supposed to.*
I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to think.
Too many variables. Too many unknowns.
But one thing was certain.
Someone had tried to kill me tonight.
Or worse—someone had tried to *frame* me.
And I needed to find out who.