I failed my mother and sister, Returned as a Billionaire

CHAPTER 8

The grand ballroom of the Meridian Club looked like someone had taken a museum and decided to fill it with people who had more money than blood in their veins.

Crystal chandeliers the size of compact cars hung from the ceiling, throwing light across marble floors so polished they could have been mirrors.

Every surface gleamed. Every corner smelled like expensive cologne and even more expensive desperation.

At the head table sat Blake Morrison, Harvard Company's investment director, a man whose word could turn a struggling business into a empire overnight or crush it into dust before lunch.

Around him, executives from every corner of the city had gathered like moths circling a porch light, each one carrying a gift that cost more than most people's cars.

A mahogany box filled with vintage wine from a French estate that no longer existed. A watch with diamonds where the numbers should have been.

A sculpture carved from a single piece of jade that took three men to carry through the door.

Blake barely glanced at any of them.

His fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair, his eyes half-lidded with boredom, and every person in that room could feel the weight of his indifference pressing down on their shoulders like a hand.

Then Olivia Reed walked through the door with Damon Whitlock at her side, and behind them, two men wheeled in something covered with a black silk cloth.

The room went quiet.

Blake's fingers stopped drumming.

Olivia smiled, the kind of smile a cat gives a canary before it stops pretending to be friendly, and she gestured to the covered object with one perfectly manicured hand.

"Mr. Morrison." Her voice was smooth as glass. "I've brought you something I think you'll find far more interesting than another watch or another bottle of wine."

She pulled the cloth away.

Beneath it was a cage.

Not a metaphorical cage. Not some tasteful art piece. A real cage, crystal and iron, about the size of a dog kennel, and inside it was a girl.

Lily Hale sat curled in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around her shins.

Her clothes were torn at the shoulder and the hem, exposing bruises that had gone from purple to yellow over the course of days.

A thin iron chain was fastened around her left ankle, bolted to the floor of the cage.

Her feet were bare and bleeding where the metal had rubbed the skin raw.

Her eyes, cloudy and sightless, wandered across nothing, searching for something she would never see.

Blake leaned forward in his chair.

Olivia stepped closer to the cage and tapped her heel against the bars. The sound echoed through the ballroom like a bell.

"This," Olivia tilted her head, "is my ex-husband's baby sister. Blind since birth. Useless as furniture. But I figured after all these years of feeding her and housing her and listening to her whimper in the corner, she could finally be useful for something."

Damon laughed beside her, low and comfortable, his hand resting on her hip. "Baby, you're a genius. I've been hearing stories about Mr. Morrison's preferences for months. I knew she'd be perfect."

Blake's eyes moved over Lily slowly, taking in every bruise, every tear in the fabric, every tremor in her small frame as she tried to make herself smaller in the corner of the cage. His throat moved as he swallowed.

"She can't see." His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful. "Can she hear?"

"Oh, she can hear just fine." Olivia crouched down beside the cage and rapped her knuckles against Lily's head like she was knocking on a door. "Can't you, sweetheart. You can hear every word we're saying about you."

Lily flinched but did not speak.

"I like that." Blake's mouth curled into something that wanted to be a smile but landed somewhere much darker. "The ones who throw themselves at me get boring. But this one. She looks like she still has some fight left in her."

The executives around the room shifted on their feet. Some looked away. Some didn't. No one said a word.

Olivia stood up and brushed imaginary dust off her dress, looking extremely pleased with herself. "I thought you might appreciate her, Mr. Morrison. Consider her a gift. A token of goodwill between us. All I ask in return is your support when Harvard Company finalizes its investment partnerships."

Blake sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

"In Harvard Company, my word carries weight." His tone was casual, like he was discussing the weather. "If I say your proposal deserves funding, it will get funding. If I say your name should be on the partnership list, your name will be on the list."

Olivia's smile widened. Damon squeezed her waist.

Around them, the other executives looked at them with envy so thick you could have spread it on bread. A partnership with Harvard Company was the kind of opportunity that came once in a lifetime, if it came at all. Rumor had it that once the final list was approved, the CEO herself, Vivienne Ashford, would personally meet with each selected partner. Getting a meeting with someone of her status normally took months of waiting and mountains of connections.

One of the men near the back, a real estate developer with too much hair gel and not enough sense, leaned toward the woman beside him and spoke just loud enough for the table to hear.

"Did you hear the news this morning? Someone said the CEO of Harvard Company showed up outside Blackridge Prison with a motorcade. A Rolls-Royce and everything. Like she was picking up royalty."

The woman beside him raised her eyebrows. "Who could possibly be important enough for her to show up in person?"

That's what everyone's asking. Maybe some foreign dignitary. Maybe some investor from overseas. Whoever it was, they must be someone with serious power."

Olivia's smile tightened at the corners.

That morning. The prison. She had been standing right there, and if Kevin hadn't wasted her time with his pathetic emotions and his refusal to grovel properly, she could have stayed longer. She could have seen who got into that Rolls-Royce. She could have made a connection, introduced herself, maybe even impressed the CEO before this whole partnership circus even started.

But no.

Kevin had made her late. Kevin had made her leave early. Kevin had stolen that opportunity from her just by existing.

The anger that had been simmering under her ribs since she drove away from the prison that morning suddenly flared white-hot behind her eyes, and she turned that heat onto the one person in the room who couldn't run from it.

She walked over to the cage and kicked it.

Hard.

The entire structure rocked sideways. Lily lost her balance and slammed into the iron bars, her shoulder taking the impact first, then her head. A deep gash opened along her forearm where the metal edge caught her, slicing down to the muscle. Blood welled up immediately, bright red against pale skin.

Lily gasped, curling into herself, shaking so hard the chain around her ankle rattled.

Olivia crouched down again and shoved her finger directly into the bleeding wound.

Lily screamed.

"Get out of the cage yourself," Olivia hissed. Her finger pressed deeper. "Crawl out like the worm you are and show Mr. Morrison what you're good for."

Lily tried to pull away, tried to press herself further into the corner, but there was nowhere left to go. Her hands came up to protect her face, and that only made Olivia angrier.

She slapped Lily across the cheek.

Then again.

The second blow sent Lily's head crashing into the bars with a sound like a hammer hitting wood. Blood trickled down from her hairline, mixing with the tears already running down her face.

"You piece of dirt." Olivia stood up and wiped her hand on a napkin like she had just touched something rotten. "Three years I fed you. Three years I kept a roof over your worthless head. And this is how you repay me? By making me look bad in front of important people?"

Olivia grabbed Lily by the chin and yanked her head up, forcing those sightless eyes to point in her direction even though they couldn't see the hatred burning in her face.

"If I hadn't fed you table scraps every day, you would have starved to death in that storage room years ago." Her nails dug into Lily's jaw hard enough to leave marks. "Since Mr. Morrison likes you now, you better serve him well. You better make him happy. You understand me?"

Lily's whole body was shaking. Her lips moved but no sound came out.

"Answer me!" Olivia slapped her again, lighter this time but sharp enough to make her point.

"Yes." Lily's voice cracked on the single word.

"Good." Olivia smiled, wide and cold. "Because if you dare resist him, if you dare make me look bad in front of these people, I will have your tendons cut at the ankles. Then I'll throw what's left of you into the cheapest brothel I can find and let every piece of street trash in this city use you until there's nothing left worth using."

Blake Morrison leaned back in his chair, his smile growing wider with every word.