2025-01-20 16:44:00The atmosphere in the Rolls-Royce was tense. Dylan sat in silence, his jaw clenched as the weight of his recent phone call with Jane lingered. Sensing his unease, John Nelson leaned forward, his face dark with anger.
“Young Master,” John said, his voice low and serious, “after hearing how your ex-wife treated you and Molly, I have to ask—should we reconsider this cooperation with her company? People like her don’t deserve your help.”
Dylan’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at John. “John, I'm always happy to help my wife's company. But now...Jane is not my wife anymore.”
His voice was calm, but his words carried a firm edge.
John nodded in understanding, his expression thoughtful. “I see.”
The convoy arrived at the grand entrance of the Royal Elysian Hotel, where a red carpet had been rolled out. Luxury cars lined the driveway, with elegantly dressed guests mingling outside.
John glanced at his granddaughter Helen, who had remained quiet the entire ride. Her shyness was evident, but John saw this as an opportunity to let her spend more time with Dylan.
“Helen,” John said gently, “why don’t you accompany the Young Master inside? I’ll handle the business side of things with Jane’s company for now.”
Helen’s cheeks flushed pink, but she nodded obediently. “Of course, Grandpa.”
John stepped out of the car first, flanked by several attendants. Dylan exited next, holding Molly’s hand, followed closely by Helen.
As John walked away with his aides, Dylan and Helen made their way into the hotel. The grandeur of the lobby was breathtaking—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and marble floors gleamed under the warm lights.
But the moment they stepped inside, Dylan’s expression darkened. Across the lobby, Jane stood in an elegant emerald gown, her hair styled perfectly, her makeup immaculate. Beside her was a chubby man in a poorly fitted suit, whose gold watch seemed comically oversized for his wrist. His confident smirk gave him an air of self-importance that clashed with the sophistication of the surroundings.
Dylan sighed, hoping to avoid a confrontation, but Jane’s sharp eyes caught sight of him. Her expression twisted in anger, and she stormed toward him, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor.
“You!” Jane spat, pointing an accusing finger at Dylan. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of nearby guests and security.
Dylan looked at Jane. He had never imagined that the kind girl he once deeply loved would turn out like this.
His jaw tightened, and he replied coolly, “I don’t think I owe you an explanation.”
Jane’s face turned red with fury. “Don’t lie to me! You’ve been stalking me, haven’t you? How else would a nobody like you end up in a place like this?”
Dylan sighed, his patience wearing thin. “Stalking you? Don’t flatter yourself. I was invited here by the Nelson family to have a meal.”
Jane let out a harsh laugh, loud enough to draw the attention of nearby guests, and the chubby man beside her joined in, his round belly shaking.
“By the Nelson family?” Jane sneered. “Dylan, do you hear yourself? The Nelsons don’t associate with people like you.”
The chubby man stepped forward, puffing out his chest, his smirk widening. “Is this your ex-husband, Jane? The one you told me about? He doesn’t look like much.”
Jane crossed her arms and sneered. “That’s him. Dylan Grenville. A broke, useless man with no status or money. He’s probably here to cause trouble.”
Dylan met Jane’s scornful gaze, his expression unchanging. “Believe what you want,” he said indifferently. “I have no reason to explain myself to you.”
The man still smirking said, “allow me to introduce myself. I’m Bobby Jackson, a billionaire entrepreneur and someone who’s very well-acquainted with the Nelsons. If you really were invited by them, I’d know.”
“In fact, I can call them right now and confirm whether you’re telling the truth.” He continued.
Dylan remained unfazed. “Believe what you want,” he repeated calmly.
Jane smirked, placing a hand on Bobby’s arm. “Bobby’s the one who helped me secure the cooperation with the Nelson family,” she said proudly. “You think you can compete with him? Don’t make me laugh.”
Around them, murmurs of admiration rose from onlookers.
“She’s with Bobby Jackson? Isn’t he one of the city’s richest men?”
“No wonder she’s so confident. Her ex-husband looks like a joke next to him.”
Dylan’s lips curled into a faint smile, but he said nothing.
Helen, who had been silent until now, couldn’t contain herself any longer. She suddenly burst into laughter, the sound light but unmistakably mocking.
It was so funny for Helen because she knew the Nelson family was only cooperating with Jane for Dylan's sake and now she was saying this nonsense.
Everyone turned to look at her. Jane’s eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “And who is she? Your new girlfriend, Dylan? Is this why you’ve been acting so bold lately? Have you been cheating on me all along?”
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204Dylan Grenville’s eyes flicked to the vibrating phone on the edge of his glass desk. The screen lit up with an unfamiliar number—no caller ID, just an empty sequence of digits that seemed to hum with menace.He hesitated.The air in his office felt heavier now, as if it were thickening with some unseen pressure. Outside the bulletproof glass windows of the high-rise, the city of Eridale glistened under the midnight rain, the skyline cut with static lightning. His pulse quickened, jaw tightening. Then—he hit accept.“Yeah?” he said, voice flat, cautious.For a moment, there was nothing—just static. A hiss, like radio silence stretched too thin. And then it came.A voice.Low. Gravelly. Mechanically distorted, as if dragged through sand and soaked in tar. Filtered, twisted—inhuman.“Mr. Grenville.”Dylan sat upright, every vertebrae snapping to attention as his spine stiffened. His fingers twitched toward the panic button under the desk, but he held off. His voice came out sharper,
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203“I am right,” Lisa replied, sounding pleased with herself. “You need to stop second-guessing everything. You’re not Helen from twenty years ago, struggling to prove herself. You’re Jane White. CEO. Boss. And Bobby? He’s not just your business partner. He’s your partner, period. In every sense.”Jane exhaled through her nose, gripping her phone a little tighter as she leaned against the elevator’s mirrored wall. The ride up to the penthouse was smooth, soundless, too quiet for her thoughts. Lisa’s voice echoed even after she hung up, bouncing around the corners of her mind like a song on repeat.She stepped out onto the twelfth floor of the luxurious Westside tower and moved down the hallway, heels clicking sharply against polished marble. Her steps slowed as she reached her door—unit 12A. The keypad glowed soft blue under her fingertips as she punched in her code. With a soft hiss, the door unlocked.Inside, the apartment was dim, bathed in the amber hues of city lights filtering
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202Back at Jane’s ApartmentThe hallway outside her apartment was quiet, but Jane’s heart wasn’t. It thudded like a warning drum inside her chest as she reached her door and fumbled for her keys. Her fingers, usually so precise, felt clumsy against the cool metal. She finally slid the key into the lock and twisted, pushing the door open with a soft creak.The moment she stepped inside, she exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her heels clicked on the hardwood as she moved forward, slowly closing the door behind her with a quiet click, then rested her forehead against the wood. It was cold, smooth, and grounding.The silence inside her apartment was eerie—thick, like a pause before something broke. The familiar lavender scent of the reed diffuser in the corner greeted her, but even that felt distant tonight. She slipped off her heels by the door, nudging them aside with the edge of her foot. The relief was immediate. Her toes ached, but her mind hurt more.She glanced
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201Back to HelenHelen sat still, frozen in the middle of the conference room. The emptiness of the space around her seemed to echo her growing realization.Everything she had worked for. Everything she thought she knew.Had it all been a lie?The sinking feeling in her stomach spread like cold fire. She couldn’t ignore the dread anymore. It was a feeling that would stay with her—forever.The door clicked shut behind her, but the sound of the finality echoed in her mind.“God, what have I done?” she whispered to herself, the weight of her decisions pressing down on her chest. “How could I have been so blind?”She stared at the documents on the table. The ink seemed to mock her, the signatures binding her to something she didn’t fully understand. The deal had seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime—until it wasn’t. Now it was a trap, and she was the prey.Her phone buzzed on the table in front of her, but she didn’t pick it up immediately. Her hands were shaking too much. When she f
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200Helen tried to return the smile, but it came out more strained than she intended. Her stomach churned, and her skin prickled with an ominous sense of foreboding that she couldn’t shake.Something was wrong. Her instincts, always so sharp when it came to business, were screaming at her. This wasn’t right.She glanced at the man who had spoken, trying to find some sign of warmth or sincerity. But there was none. Just cold professionalism. He didn’t seem to care that she’d just signed away a chunk of her life.The words echoed in her mind: “It’s a done deal. Congratulations.”Her hand trembled as she reached for the pen, signing the contract without hesitation. Was it a mistake? She couldn’t tell. She’d been briefed, she’d weighed the pros and cons, but now that it was done—now that the deal was final—she wasn’t sure she could even trust her own judgment anymore.“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out softer than she had intended. Her eyes were on the paper in front of her, but
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199 Pages and pages of dense legal language. Terms like “full legal responsibility,” “personal liability,” “unlimited financial exposure.” Helen’s stomach twisted. “This is…” she trailed off. “Standard,” the thickset man said shortly. Helen looked up sharply. “It doesn’t look standard.” The man with the scar leaned forward, voice low and threatening. “You want in or not?” Helen tried to laugh, but it came out thin and shaky. “I’m just… not used to moving this fast, I guess. Big deals usually involve—” “Lawyers?” the young man sneered. “Mediators? Delays?” He leaned forward, eyes cold. “That’s why most people never make it, sweetheart. They hesitate. They waste time. Opportunities vanish.” Helen’s heart hammered painfully against her ribs. “But—” “Bobby said you were serious,” the man with the scar interrupted, his voice like gravel. “That you had guts. Were we wrong?” Helen’s cheeks flamed. “No,” she snapped. The man shoved the pen across the table toward her. “The
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198The Next Morning,Helen stood in front of the mirror in her luxury apartment, smoothing the front of her navy sheath dress for the fifth time. Her heels clicked restlessly against the marble floor as she checked her appearance from every angle.She looked perfect. Sharp. Professional. Unstoppable.Today was the day.She had barely slept, tossing and turning with excitement, replaying Bobby’s words over and over in her head:“Big money, Helen. Billions.”“You’re going to crush them all.”Lisa had practically screamed when Helen called her after midnight.“You’re going to OWN this city!” Lisa had cried. “They won’t even know what hit them!”Helen had laughed, giddy and breathless.Finally.Finally she would be more than the woman they whispered about behind champagne glasses. She would be a force.She stared at her reflection, brushing an imaginary speck off her dress.“No mistakes,” she whispered to herself. “You’re ready.”Her phone buzzed. A text from Bobby:Car’s waiting downsta
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197 Bobby clapped his hands together, almost giddy. “That’s what I’m talking about.” “But,” Helen said, cutting him off again, “if you even think about crossing me—” He held up his hands. “Scout’s honor.” Helen laughed humorlessly. “You were never a scout, Bobby.” “No,” he admitted, “but I was always good at surviving.” Helen smirked. “Survival’s not enough anymore.” Bobby lifted his coffee in a mock toast. “To the queen of the city.” Helen hesitated, just for a second, before clinking her mug against his. She could almost taste the victory already—sweet, rich, and long overdue. ⸻ Last night, she had told Lisa everything, practically bouncing on her designer heels. Lisa had squealed and shrieked, “YES! This is it! You’re finally going to crush them all!” Helen had believed it. She had seen herself rising—higher than the Nelsons, higher than all those self-important bastards who had sneered at her. But what Helen didn’t know—what Lisa didn’t know—was that Bobby had never
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196“How soon do they want to move?” Helen asked, swirling the spoon idly around her coffee.“Fast,” Bobby said, leaning forward, lowering his voice like it was some great secret. “Two weeks, tops. They want to announce before the next fiscal quarter.”Helen tapped her manicured nails against the mug, deep in thought, her sunglasses slipping slightly down her nose. She pushed them back up with one finger. Her mind was already working angles, risks, escape routes.“And what’s your cut in all this?” she asked, her tone sharp, suspicious.Bobby chuckled, an easy, practiced sound. “Straight to business. I like that about you.”Helen didn’t crack a smile. “Answer the question.”He took a slow sip of his coffee, deliberately dragging out the moment. Helen’s foot started tapping under the table, a tell she couldn’t help.Finally, he said, “Finder’s fee. Minor stake. I’ll be consulting behind the scenes. You’ll be the face.”Helen narrowed her eyes. “Consulting,” she repeated. “Meaning you ge
