The Commotion

ARIANA'S POV

Hardin drove in silence, his hand resting firmly on the gearshift, the tension in the car thick enough to choke on. The quiet wasn’t peaceful—it was loaded. Every few minutes, I glanced at him, the sharp angle of his jaw clenched tight, his eyes glued to the road. We hadn’t said much since we left the penthouse. We didn’t need to. The silence was a language we both understood.

But the closer we got to the Miller's mansion, the more dread curled in my stomach like smoke. Something was coming. I could feel it in my bones—a heaviness pressing down on my chest, warning me that peace was temporary.

The mansion loomed ahead, regal and silent against the morning haze. Everything about it looked untouched, pristine—but I knew better. The real rot was always beneath the surface.

Hardin pulled up the long circular driveway and killed the engine.

I took a breath.

Then another.

I reached for the door handle.

"Ariana, wait," he said, his voice low, hand catching mine.

I turned, our eyes meeting. His were searching, as if trying to find the fear I was hiding.

"You know how much you mean to me right?”

I smiled faintly. "I know."

I stepped out of the car.

The air was brisk, biting. The silence of the estate felt unnatural. As if even the birds knew something was wrong.

I barely made it five steps toward the grand front doors when the sting hit me.

A crack split through the still air as a sharp slap collided with my cheek.

Pain bloomed across my face, instant and hot. I staggered back, breath caught in my throat, eyes wide as the world tilted.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

The voice thundered across the porch. Aunt Celia.

I barely had a second to react before another blow came for me—but it never landed.

Hardin moved like lightning, stepping in front of me and catching her wrist mid-air. His grip was steel, his eyes dark fire.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" His voice was a low snarl, deadly calm.

Celia tried to yank her hand away, but he didn’t budge.

"LET ME GO! SHE DESERVES WORSE!"

My cheek throbbed. I could taste blood. But the burn in my chest was hotter than any pain on my skin.

Hardin stared her down, jaw tight. "Touch her again, and I swear to God you won’t like what happens next."

"Oh, spare me your threats, CEO boy," Celia snapped, ripping her arm away and turning her venom on me. Her eyes blazed with hatred, her finger pointing like a dagger. "You think you’re so righteous? You think you’ve done the right thing? My husband is in prison because of YOU! Because of your lies!"

I stepped forward, rage boiling up, steady and furious. "He’s in prison because he committed crimes. Don’t twist this like he’s some victim."

Celia’s face twisted. "He was STABBED in there! Don’t you get it? That’s your fault! You put a target on his back. If anything happens to him—"

"If he were a decent man," I cut in, voice sharp, "he wouldn’t be in that situation to begin with. He was a criminal, Aunt Celia. A manipulative, dangerous man. You want to protect him? Fine. But don’t blame me for the consequences of his actions."

She lunged.

Hardin caught her again, this time more roughly. "Enough. You want to scream? Go scream into a pillow. You touch her again, and I swear the next place you visit will be a police station."

Her eyes were wild now, lips trembling, body shaking with fury.

"You don’t scare me," she hissed. "You think just because you have money and suits and a little power that you can protect her forever? Family will turn on you faster than enemies ever will."

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the tension.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

My mother appeared at the front door, her robe hastily tied, hair a mess, eyes wide with sleep and panic. Right behind her was my grandfather, leaning heavily on his cane, but his face was anything but weak. Fury lit up his features like fire.

"Celia," he barked. "Get your damn hands off my granddaughter."

Celia jerked back, finally stepping away, breathing like she’d just run a marathon.

"Father," she spat, "you know I’m right. She tore this family apart. She turned you all against us—she threw Garry to the wolves."

Grandpa narrowed his eyes, each word landing like a bullet. "Garry stabbed his own future with every lie, every scheme. Don’t come to my house screaming like a madwoman because justice finally caught up."

"Justice?!"

She laughed—a bitter, broken sound.

"If anything happens to him in that prison, you’ll all have blood on your hands. You hear me? Every last one of you! And don’t pretend you didn’t know. You knew what she was doing. You LET her destroy him."

"Enough!" my mother snapped, her voice cracking through the air like a whip. She stepped in front of me, eyes blazing. "This family has been through hell because of your husband. And you dare come here throwing punches at my daughter?"

Celia’s lip curled. "You want to protect her now? You?"

She took a slow step closer.

"Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this. You think I don’t know? You think I haven’t seen the way you hide things? The way you kept secrets even from your own daughter?"

I blinked.

My mother stilled.

There it was.

That look.

That strange, cold look Celia shot my mom before turning away, like she knew something none of us did. Like a storm cloud that passed too quickly.

"What does that mean?" I demanded.

Celia didn’t answer me.

She pointed a shaking finger at my grandfather. "I want him out. You hear me? If anything happens to Garry, you’d better remember this moment. I will NEVER forgive you. Any of you. And you can all forget I was ever family."

With that, she spun on her heel and stormed down the steps, her heels clicking like gunshots against the stone.

Hardin let out a low breath beside me.

"Jesus."

I didn’t say anything.

Not as the front door slowly closed behind us.

Not as my mother placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

Not as my grandfather walked past, cursing softly under his breath.

I just stood there, fingers still trembling, cheek still stinging.

Something shifted in the air today.

This wasn’t just about Garry anymore. It was about everything buried beneath the surface. Secrets. Loyalties. Shadows we never turned our backs on.

And that look Celia gave my mother?

It wasn’t over.

Hardin wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close.

"I’ve got you," he whispered.

I leaned into him, heart thudding.

Because he did.

But I had a feeling we were just getting started.
She's The Boss
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