Page 111 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
Ophelia hadn't just left her a token in the form of a beautiful set of opals or words scrawled in regret.
She'd given her power.
Four percent. It may not win the war, but it would help.
A voice, Ophelia had written. A weapon, Aria realised. A stake in the very company that Crispin had worked so hard for.
Her pulse surged. She needed to speak to Crispin right now.
She reached for her phone and realised it wasn't there. She'd left it upstairs.
"Rosa!" she called, clumsily pushing to her feet. "Rosa, can you grab my phone from the nightstand, please?"
The woman appeared quickly, concern on her face, and hurried off. Aria waved her off, muttering that the baby was fine.
She was pacing by the time Rosa returned with the phone. She grabbed it and dialled Crispin.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
Panic swelled followed by frustration.
She hesitated, thumb hovering over her contacts list, and then she dialled another number. One Crispin had insisted she save just in case.
Dorian.
He picked up after two rings. His voice was cautious and more than a little surprised.
"Hello?"
"Dorian, it's Aria."
A pause followed by alarm. "Is everything alright? The baby-"
"No...yes. Yes, the baby's fine. And why is Crispin not answering his bloody phone?" she said quickly. "Anyway, it's not that. It's Ophelia."
She didn't realise how breathless she sounded until the words started tumbling out in half-coherent, frantic, details twisted together.
"She...she left me something. Not just the opals, but shares.Shares.Four percent of Du Valares in her will."
There was silence on the other end. Then the sound of a chair scraping, and a faint "Cris-"
"No! Wait!" she cut in. "Just...let me explain."
She steadied herself. Gave him the brief version-what Ophelia had written, what she'd meant, what it now meant.
On the other end of the call, Dorian was sitting directly across from Crispin, who had just come out of the bathroom. His expression had turned thoughtful.
And then, as Aria's voice steadied and the enormity of her words settled between them, a slow, knowing smile curled across Dorian's face.
"The irony," he murmured.
Crispin looked up. "What?"
Dorian just passed him the phone. "It's for you. It's Aria."
