Revelations and Retribution
last update2025-01-20 17:01:16

Chapter 8: Revelations and Retribution

Vivian’s heart sank as the weight of her actions hit her. It turned out that everything Helen had said was true. She had humiliated the wrong people, and now the consequences were staring her in the face. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to her knees in front of Dylan and Helen. Cold sweat dripped from her forehead, and her hands trembled as she clasped them together in desperation.

"Please, Helen... Young Master Dylan..." Vivian’s voice cracked, and tears streamed down her face. "I was wrong. I didn’t mean it! I didn’t know who you were! Please, forgive me. I’ll do anything to make this right!"

Helen stood tall beside Dylan, her sharp gaze pinned on Vivian. Her voice was cold, yet steady, as she spoke. "You didn’t mean it? Was it ignorance or arrogance, Vivian? You didn’t bother verifying who we were before treating us like dirt. And now you’re groveling? Do you think that excuses what you’ve done?"

Vivian’s sobs grew louder, and she crawled closer, reaching for Helen’s hand. "I was blinded by my assumptions! I swear it won’t happen again. Please, Helen, Dylan, give me another chance!"

Dylan’s eyes remained calm but distant, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the groveling woman.

Before she could continue begging, John Nelson’s booming voice cut through the room. "Enough."

The authority in his tone silenced everyone. John’s expression was as cold as steel as he glared at Vivian. "You’ve disgraced the Nelson family name and tarnished the reputation of the Royal Elysian Hotel. Do you think begging for mercy will undo the humiliation you’ve caused my granddaughter and the Young Master of the family?"

Vivian shook her head desperately, her tears now soaking her face. "No, Mr. Nelson! Please, I was wrong. I’ll do anything, even if you want me to resign."

"You don’t need to resign," John interrupted icily. "You’re fired."

A strangled gasp escaped Vivian’s throat. "Fired?" she echoed, disbelief flashing across her face. "Mr. Nelson, please! I’ve dedicated years to this place!"

John’s sharp gaze didn’t falter. He turned to the security guards standing nearby. "Escort her out of the premises. I don’t want to see her face in this hotel ever again."

The guards hesitated for a moment, but John’s authoritative stance left no room for argument. They moved swiftly, grabbing Vivian by her arms and dragging her toward the exit. She screamed and begged all the way out, her voice fading as the murmurs of the crowd grew louder.

---

**In the Grand Lobby**

John turned to face Dylan and Helen, his expression softening as guilt flickered in his eyes. "Young Master Dylan, I deeply apologize for this disgraceful incident. As the chairman, this was my responsibility, and I failed to ensure the dignity of our guests. Please, allow me to personally invite you to the Supreme Banquet Hall to make amends."

Dylan gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. "Let’s not dwell on it, Mr. Nelson. Lead the way."

As they entered the elevator, whispers followed them.

"The Supreme Banquet Hall?" one guest murmured. "That’s reserved for VIPs!"

"Who is that guy? Mr. Nelson called him the Young Master!"

"Could he be from the Nelson family?"

---

**At the Supreme Banquet Hall**

The room was a breathtaking sight. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the golden décor shimmered in the soft light. The aroma of fine wine and gourmet dishes filled the air.

John personally pulled out a chair for Dylan at the head table. "Please, sit, Young Master Dylan," he said respectfully.

Once they were seated, John leaned forward, his tone sincere. "Young Master Dylan, I cannot express how ashamed I am. This was an unforgivable oversight. I assure you, it will never happen again."

Dylan’s expression remained calm. "Mr. Nelson, this wasn’t entirely your fault." He glanced at Helen briefly before continuing. "Jane had a hand in this. She orchestrated it deliberately to create trouble for us."

John’s face darkened at the mention of Jane. A flash of alarm crossed his features as he suddenly remembered something. "The cooperation agreement with her company!" he muttered, standing abruptly. "I haven’t canceled it yet!"

He quickly pulled out his phone and called the manager in charge of the deal. His tone was sharp and urgent. "Cancel the cooperation with Jane’s company immediately. Do you hear me? IMMEDIATELY!”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before John’s expression turned grim. "What? The manager has already left to sign the contract? Get me his number, now!"

---

**Meanwhile, in Another ordinary Banquet Hall**

In a smaller, yet elegant banquet hall, Jane and Bobby were entertaining a middle-aged man with a slick smile. The man was the manager of the Nelson family’s business division, and he was there to finalize the cooperation agreement with Jane’s company.

The room was filled with Jane’s carefully invited guests—business associates, potential investors, and socialites. Jane had planned this moment meticulously, ensuring that everyone would witness her "success" in securing a deal with the Nelson family.

The manager raised his glass in a toast, his tone flattering. "Ms. Jane, I must say, you’re very fortunate to have such a reliable partner. It’s clear someone powerful is helping you behind the scenes to secure this deal."

Jane raised her glass with a practiced smile, her eyes filled with gratitude as she looked at Bobby. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Bobby. Truly.”

Bobby smirked, leaning back in his chair as if the whole affair was beneath him. “You give me too much credit, Jane. It was just a few phone calls.”

The manager, seated across from them, looked mildly amused but suddenly furrowed his brows. “Ms. Jane,” he asked, his tone light but curious, “Isn’t your husband here? I expected to see him at such an important occasion.”

Jane’s smile faltered, and an awkward silence fell over the table. Her grip on her wine glass tightened as she scrambled for an answer. “Ah… my husband…” she began, her voice tinged with forced nonchalance. “He’s just an ordinary man, you see. He doesn’t feel comfortable in high-profile settings like this. So Bobby offered to accompany me today.”

The manager raised an eyebrow, his curiosity growing. He turned his gaze toward Bobby, studying him with a hint of skepticism. “Bobby, was it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Forgive me, but I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Your family… I don’t recall them having connections with the Nelson family.”

Bobby’s confident expression wavered for a split second before he recovered. “Oh, well, we don’t flaunt our connections,” he said smoothly, brushing off the remark. “I prefer to keep things discreet.”

The manager’s eyes narrowed slightly, but before he could press further, his phone buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted immediately to one of alarm. It was Mr. Nelson calling.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he muttered, standing abruptly and walking a few steps away to answer the call.

“Hello, Sir” his voice was low but urgent.

After hearing what Mr. Nelson said, his expression changed abruptly, and he quickly left the banquet hall.

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  • 242

    Laughter rippled across the nearby tables—snide, stifled, and cruel.A blonde woman with a diamond choker leaned toward her date, stage-whispering with a chuckle, “Did you see his shoes? My gardener wears better.”Her date snorted into his wine. “And he thought he could afford dinner here? Maybe he’s doing a social experiment—‘How the Other Half Starves.’”At the bar, a couple swiveled in their stools to get a better look. The man grinned wide, elbowing his companion. “Is that the Crestmoor girl’s new charity case? Poor bastard’s in the wrong movie.”“I thought this was black tie, not thrift store chic,” the woman giggled, deliberately loud enough to carry.Even the piano player hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys like he didn’t want to be part of the scene unfolding. A note hung awkwardly in the air before he resumed playing—quieter now.Dylan’s ears burned. He could feel their eyes on him, their judgment crawling over his skin like biting ants. Every laugh was a slap. Every sn

  • 241

    Dylan stood rooted for a second, his thoughts racing behind a tight expression. Crestmoor. That name had clawed its way through every bitter argument he’d ever overheard growing up—his father’s voice shaking with hatred as he blamed the Crestmoors for everything their family lost.He looked at Vivian again, careful to keep his face neutral. She didn’t know who he was. Not yet. And now wasn’t the time.Vivian took a small sip of her drink, watching him with a knowing sort of calm. “Are you alright?”“I’m fine,” Dylan said too quickly. “Just… surprised, I guess. I’ve heard of you.”Her smile was measured. “Most people have. But don’t worry—I don’t bite.”Before Dylan could respond, the same waiter from earlier returned, holding a sleek leather folio in one hand, grinning like a man who’d just won a bet. He placed the check in front of Vivian this time, his voice coated in syrupy mockery.“Here you are, ma’am. Whenever you’re ready.”Vivian gave him a short nod and reached for her purse…

  • 240

    The air had settled, but only on the surface. Underneath Dylan’s skin, the fury still simmered like a pot barely kept from boiling over. He forced his grip on the utensils to stay steady as Dolly picked up her fork again, cautiously eyeing him.“Is it okay now, Daddy?” she whispered.Dylan offered a tight smile and nodded. “Yeah, baby. Just eat. It’s spaghetti night, remember?”She beamed at that, the tension momentarily melting from her small shoulders. But Dylan’s focus flickered toward the kitchen doors—just as a thin waiter with slicked-back hair and an overly stiff walk approached their table. He held their plates with exaggerated grace, but something in his narrowed eyes made Dylan’s stomach twist.“Spaghetti and meatballs,” the waiter said flatly, placing Dolly’s plate down with a thud that rattled the cutlery. Then, as he leaned to serve Dylan’s meal, he tilted the dish just a little too much.Hot marinara sauce sloshed toward Dylan’s lap. He jerked back instinctively, narrowl

  • 239

    The air thickened with tension, pressing down like a storm cloud about to burst.“I said,” the man repeated, his smug grin widening, “this place isn’t for the likes of you. You’re embarrassing yourself and—frankly—ruining the view for the rest of us.”Dylan’s jaw twitched, his fists clenching at his sides. He glanced down at Dolly—her lip was trembling, her big eyes brimming with confusion and the threat of tears. His heart twisted.“Daddy…” she whispered, her voice so small it barely reached his ears. “Can we go home?”That was the breaking point.“No, baby,” Dylan said softly, crouching down beside her chair. “We’re staying. You wanted spaghetti, remember? And dessert too. We’re going to enjoy dinner—just like everyone else here.”The man scoffed. “How noble. Shame doesn’t feed the bill though, does it?”The scraping of chairs and shuffling feet signaled the shifting interest of the other patrons, many now openly watching, murmuring.“I asked you to stop,” Dylan said, standing tall

  • 238

    Dylan’s chest felt tight, his mind a whirlpool of tension and exhaustion. The kidnapping of Molly had shaken him to the core—his heart ached every time he thought of her in unknown hands, vulnerable and scared. Then there was the Bobby issue, a mess that seemed to twist tighter with every passing hour. And Jane… Jane had shown up again, eyes pleading, asking for his help. How could he refuse? But all these problems pressed down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake.He looked over at Dolly, who was sitting quietly in the car beside him, her small hand nestled in his. She was unaware of the chaos swirling around him, her bright eyes full of innocence and hope. Dylan wanted to give her a moment of peace, a slice of normalcy in the storm. So he had decided, almost on a whim, to take her out to dinner at an upscale restaurant he had heard about—a place with soft lighting and quiet music, where people came to celebrate life and enjoy the finer things.As they stepped inside, the warmth of

  • 237

    Disintegration Protocol (Continuation – Part 3) Jane held the USB drive like it was a venomous snake. Her fingers trembled, eyes locked on the sticker as if it might vanish if she blinked. Linda backed away, her voice cracking. “Jane… don’t. We don’t know what that thing could do!” “But what if it’s a clue?” Jane whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “What if it’s the only thing he left behind that can explain this?” Adam tugged at her sleeve. “Is Bobby a bad guy now?” Jane bit her lip hard, blinking rapidly. “I… I don’t know, sweetheart.” Linda sat down heavily, her breath shallow. “I raised him like my own. I gave him everything.” Her words came out between sobs. “And he left us like we were garbage.” “Don’t do this now,” Jane said, voice sharp but fragile. “We don’t have time for blame. We need answers.” Linda turned on her. “I gave him access because you loved him!” Jane’s hand slammed down on the coffee table. “And you didn’t once question it! I was stupi

  • 236

    Disintegration Protocol (Continuation – Part 3) Jane held the USB drive like it was a venomous snake. Her fingers trembled, eyes locked on the sticker as if it might vanish if she blinked. Linda backed away, her voice cracking. “Jane… don’t. We don’t know what that thing could do!” “But what if it’s a clue?” Jane whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “What if it’s the only thing he left behind that can explain this?” Adam tugged at her sleeve. “Is Bobby a bad guy now?” Jane bit her lip hard, blinking rapidly. “I… I don’t know, sweetheart.” Linda sat down heavily, her breath shallow. “I raised him like my own. I gave him everything.” Her words came out between sobs. “And he left us like we were garbage.” “Don’t do this now,” Jane said, voice sharp but fragile. “We don’t have time for blame. We need answers.” Linda turned on her. “I gave him access because you loved him!” Jane’s hand slammed down on the coffee table. “And you didn’t once question it! I was stupi

  • 235

    224 Disintegration Protocol (Continuation) The loading screen from Z0 still burned in Bobby’s mind, but it didn’t matter anymore. He was already in flight mode. Chase’s calls were going unanswered. The Nova2 security logs showed Bobby exiting the facility less than an hour ago. Just a man in a hoodie and cap, slipping out through a side entrance with a duffel bag and a burner phone. By the time Chase realized what had happened, Bobby was halfway to a private airstrip outside state jurisdiction. No farewells. No explanations. No warnings. He’d already transferred what he could from the dummy accounts—most of it siphoned slowly over the past six months from project budgets, padded invoices, and worst of all, from Jane’s family’s trust. Jane. Bobby winced at the thought of her. She had trusted him with everything—her love, her family, their future. He had smiled through every dinner, kissed her on the forehead as Adam sat between them at movie night, and promised Linda security

  • 234

    Disintegration Protocol (Continuation – Part 3) Jane held the USB drive like it was a venomous snake. Her fingers trembled, eyes locked on the sticker as if it might vanish if she blinked. Linda backed away, her voice cracking. “Jane… don’t. We don’t know what that thing could do!” “But what if it’s a clue?” Jane whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “What if it’s the only thing he left behind that can explain this?” Adam tugged at her sleeve. “Is Bobby a bad guy now?” Jane bit her lip hard, blinking rapidly. “I… I don’t know, sweetheart.” Linda sat down heavily, her breath shallow. “I raised him like my own. I gave him everything.” Her words came out between sobs. “And he left us like we were garbage.” “Don’t do this now,” Jane said, voice sharp but fragile. “We don’t have time for blame. We need answers.” Linda turned on her. “I gave him access because you loved him!” Jane’s hand slammed down on the coffee table. “And you didn’t once question it! I was stupi

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