Ascension Of The Almighty General

Chapter 9

Scott didn’t respond right away. He took a slow breath, then said, “I’d prefer the mansion.”

For a second, everything froze.

Gale blinked. “What?”

Scott nodded toward the house behind them. “The very mansion we’re standing in front of. That’s what I want when I win.”

Gale looked like he’d just been slapped. His mouth opened, then closed again. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

“How dare you?” Laura snapped, eyes narrowing. “Do you even remember what this bet is about? You’re here naming your prize like you’ve already won. What a joke.”

But Scott didn’t flinch. “If you’re not ready to put the mansion on the line…”—he turned slightly, as if to leave—“then to hell with the bet.”

Laura opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first. The sheer audacity threw her off balance. She turned to Gale with a scoff. “He’s bluffing. Obviously bluffing.”

Still, the offer lingered in the air. The chance to watch Scott—a man they saw as broken and beneath them—reduced to cleaning up after their wedding was too good to pass up. And he didn’t stand a chance anyway. The president hosting him? Absurd.

Laura leaned close, whispering something into Gale’s ear. A slow smirk crept across Gale’s face. “Alright,” he said loudly, stepping forward. “Fine. You want the mansion? You’ve got it. On one condition—we’re putting it in writing." He needed to make sure Scott had no way of escaping.

Scott didn’t even blink. “Good. I wouldn’t trust either of you to keep your word without it.”

That got them laughing again—hard.

“Oh my God,” Laura said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You really think this is real. He’s worried about collecting his prize. Like the president will actually sit with him, like this is actually happening.”

“You’ll be mopping floors at our wedding,” Gale chuckled darkly. “Not collecting deeds.”

But Scott remained still, unmoved by the noise. He waited.

Gale’s amusement flickered into irritation. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll have my lawyer draw something up. A soft copy contract. We’ll both sign it tonight.”

He paused, eyeing Scott up and down with open disdain. “Not that it matters. You don’t look like someone with a phone smart enough to open a P*F, let alone sign one.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Scott said calmly. He recited an email address, clear and confident.

Laura wrinkled her nose like it smelled bad. “Ugh.” Still, she typed it in, holding the phone as if the very name might contaminate it.

Gale made the call right there. “Yeah, draw up a bet agreement between Scott Grayson and I,” he told his lawyer. “He wants the Harrington mansion if he wins. If he loses, he works as a cleaner for our wedding. I’ll send over the full details.”

Once the call ended, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and gave Scott a wicked look. “I’ve never seen a man so eager to sign himself into slavery.”

Laura burst out laughing. “Maybe he’s already used to it. Maybe he was cleaning toilets in prison just to earn an extra slice of bread.”

They kept laughing, loud and unbothered.

Scott didn’t say a word. He just looked at them once, his expression remained neutral.

“I’ll be expecting the contract,” he said simply, then turned and walked off the property without looking back.

----

Laura stood in front of the mirror trying on a dress. The navy blue silk glimmered as she tilted her head slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She twisted to the side, examining the fit across her hips, then turned back to face the mirror.

Gale walked into the room, his phone still in his hand from a recent call. He stopped short when he saw her.

“Damn,” he said under his breath. “You look like you were born in that dress.”

Laura allowed a smile to touch her lips but didn’t turn away from her reflection just yet. “Mm. I don’t know,” she murmured, smoothing the fabric down over her waist. “I want something that makes a statement. Something that walks into that dinner before I do.”

“You are the statement,” Gale said, stepping behind her and placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Honestly, you could walk in wearing a towel and they’d still forget why they were there.”

She gave a small, satisfied smirk. “Still, it’s not every day you dine with the most powerful man in the country. I want to give the First Lady a reason to keep looking over her shoulder.”

Gale chuckled. “Trust me, love, after tomorrow night, no one’s going to remember the First Lady’s name.”

Laura finally turned to face him, her eyes sharp with amusement and ambition. “Good answer.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then stepped back, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Speaking of tomorrow... you’ll love this. Your idiot ex just signed the contract.”

Laura blinked once, then gave a disdainful scoff. “Ugh. First of all, it’s offensive that you’re still referring to that thing as my ex. Don’t downgrade me like that.”

“I’m just saying,” Gale said with a chuckle. “Technically—”

“No,” Laura cut in, lifting a perfectly manicured finger. “There’s no technical. That part of my life died and got buried under a federal prison. Never dig it up again.”

Gale threw up his hands in surrender, still laughing. “Alright, alright. My bad.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back toward the mirror, adjusting one of her earrings. “And second of all, of course he signed it. That kind of stupidity is in his DNA. It’s what got him locked up in the first place. He probably thought it was some noble act. ‘Sign the contract, prove a point, make a stand.’” She snorted. “So dramatic.”

“He really believes the President’s hosting him tomorrow,” Gale said, the disbelief still in his voice. “Like he’s not going to be stopped at the gates and arrested on sight.”

Laura laughed—a short, sharp sound. “He probably still thinks he matters. That anyone in power would want to be in the same room with someone like him. That’s the problem with delusion. It’s contagious if you let it sit too close.”

Gale walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, shaking his head. “I can’t wait to watch him sweep crumbs off the reception hall floor. In fact, I hope someone spills wine on purpose.”

Laura turned slowly toward him again, her eyes bright with something cruel. “I’m going to wear heels, Gale. Tall ones. Just so when he’s crawling around the floor, I can step right on his fingers. Maybe I’ll pretend I didn’t see him.”

They both laughed at that. Then Laura snapped her fingers as a thought struck her. “Wait—we have to film it. We’ll post clips online. A whole mini-series. ‘From Prisoner to Janitor: The Scott Redemption Tour.’”

Gale leaned back, still grinning. “We should make him wear a costume. Something ridiculous.”

Laura gasped, delighted. “Yes! Something pink and hideous. Maybe a glittery jumpsuit. Ooh—what if it says ‘Property of Gale & Laura’ across the back?”

“With matching gloves,” Gale added, “and a feather duster.”

Laura let out a dramatic laugh, placing a hand on her chest. “This is going to be better than I imagined.”

Gale stood again and walked toward her, placing his hands gently around her waist. “Tomorrow, we’re going to be sitting with the President of this nation. Toasting champagne, eating five-star cuisine. And he—he’s going to be wondering how his life fell apart so beautifully in front of our eyes.”

Laura looked into the mirror again, this time with a victorious gleam in her eyes. “He should’ve stayed in prison. He doesn’t belong anywhere else.”

Gale gave a satisfied nod. “His misery is going to make this wedding perfect.”

"Of course," Laura said.

Gale was just about to step out of the room when something seemed to flicker in his memory. He paused at the door, turning halfway back toward Laura, who was now holding up a pair of earrings to compare in the mirror.

“Oh—before I forget,” he said, one hand still on the doorknob, “make sure whatever you need to do tomorrow, you get it done early.”

Laura glanced at him through the mirror. “Why? What’s happening?”

“My uncle called,” Gale said casually, but with an unmistakable trace of pride in his voice. “Said we’ll need to be at the dinner earlier than planned. Apparently, it’s turning into more of an event than just a family thing.”

Laura lowered the earrings slowly, her brows lifting. “An event?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Some high-profile guests will be there. Ministers, CEOs, maybe even some foreign diplomats. He didn’t go into details, but it’s definitely not just him, a couple of aides, and us anymore.”

Laura turned away from the mirror fully now, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oh my God, this just keeps getting better.”

Gale grinned at her reaction. “So don’t be late or slow with anything, alright? We need to show up looking like power.”

Laura crossed her arms, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “You really think I’d leave anything to chance? Please. I already picked the dress, the shoes, the jewelry—and I booked my stylist for 8AM. I’ve got this down to a science.”

Gale gave an approving nod. “Good.”

“I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, Gale,” she added, walking up to him and looping her arms around his neck. “Tomorrow night, I will walk into that room and make them all wonder who I am. That’s a promise.”

Gale chuckled and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I believe you.”

She smirked and let him go. “You just worry about not tripping over yourself in your uncle’s shadow.”

Gale laughed as he opened the door. “Please. That shadow is where I was raised.”

Laura laughed. "Whatever! The dinner is definitely going to be a blast," she said.