17 CHAPTER 17
They drove with speed but not recklessness, making their way through the well-lit roads of the City until they approached a street lined with sleek black cars, luxury brands, and suited doormen at the entrance of a prestigious building. The golden logo above read The Crown Estate Dining Loungea known sanctuary for only the most powerful, old-money names and discreet transactions.
James nodded politely. “Not at all.”
He stepped closer to her, but not too close just enough for his words to sting like poison. “Just thank your stars, Cora. If not… I would’ve made today the worst day of your
miserable life.”
“You’re lucky,” James said coldly. “Something important just came up.”
Bartholomew gestured to the seat directly to his right. “Please, have a seat. I trust your
journey here wasn’t too stressful?”
“You need to be taught a lesson,” he said. “And I’ll be the one to teach you.”
At that moment Bartholomew leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping
on the table as his words sank in.
James walked in.
A low murmur of agreement passed among the men seated.
They were led through the grand entrance and past a glass partition to a private elevator.
The soft chime of the elevator was followed by a short ride to the upper level-exclusive
access. Only high-clearance business leaders knew about this wing.
Bartholomew stood up with grace as James entered. “Ah, James,” he said with a warm
smile that didn’t quite reach his calculating eyes. “Welcome.” 1
And definitely, to James, this wasn’t a loss-it was just one door closing and another one
swinging wide open. A better door. A cleaner one. One without Cora’s nonsense and the Victors’ hypocrisy.
17:12 6
As he sat down, his eyes quickly scanned the room. From the way the men at the table offered nods and subtle greetings, James knew something at least the respect that had once surrounded him like a second suit was still there. Maybe a little thinner, maybe a little hesitant, but it was there. And that was enough for now.
At that moment he straightened his suit jacket, exhaled as if releasing the disgust she left in his lungs, then looked her up and down one last time.
James nodded slowly, still cautious, still listening.
At that moment James adjusted his cufflinks and stepped out confidently. This wasn’t unfamiliar ground, but after what had just happened, his mind was restless. He wasn’t
here to eat. He was here to secure leverage.
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
Without another word, without sparing her a final glance, James turned around. His expensive shoes echoed against the floor as he walked out of the luxurious hall each step
bolder than the last.
At that moment, James entered the car without saying much, and the doors shut behind
him like a silent oath. The air inside was cool, quiet, and professional. His secretary,
seated beside the driver, didn’t utter a word as they pulled away from the event center,
gliding through the city like a shadow with purpose.
1
Again he scoffed under his breath and turned back to stare at her, a dangerous smirk
slowly painting his lips.
The room was styled in royal navy and gold, a soft chandelier humming above, casting an
elegant glow. The long glass table had six chairs, and five were already occupied by
sharp-looking men in tailored suits. Their expressions were firm, quiet, and knowing.
These were men who had lived and breathed power for years.
He continued speaking in that calm, deliberate tone that always carried weight no matter
how softly he spoke. “The truth is, James, we can tell what’s going on. The Victors…
they’re not fools. Neither are we. This whole sudden extension of the selection process? This announcement of postponement? It’s all just a tactic. A calculated move to deflect
pressure.”
When the elevator doors opened, they were greeted by a butler who bowed slightly and
17:12
210
extended his hand to the large double doors at the far end of the corridor.
Bartholomew folded his hands on the table and leaned forward now, his expression
heavier. “So no, they’re not delaying it because of today’s drama or because of some
foolish scene that happened with your ex-wife. That’s just noise. They’re delaying
because they want to control the conversation. Control the temperature.”
At the head of the table sat the man who had called earlier. The Hawthornes weren’t a
top-tier power like the Victors, but they controlled the veins that kept many giants alive.
They were the kind of people who didn’t shout they whispered, and empires moved.
James smiled back and approached him with a subtle bow. “It’s an honor, sir.”
“Well, we heard what happened,” he said, his voice smooth like well-aged whiskey. “Quite the spectacle… But that, James… that is even more the reason we wanted to speak
with you.”
James stayed silent, absorbing every word.
He relaxed just a little. If there was an agenda here, it wasn’t hostile. That gave him room
to breathe.
So how could he, James Lewis, ever be afraid of someone like that?
That was when Bartholomew cleared his throat lightly and spoke.
Instead, with a calm tone laced with venom, he spoke slowly.
Bartholomew’s gaze sharpened. “They want the public and the investors to stop
watching too closely. Because this isn’t just any deal-it’s the deal. The kind that rewrites
legacy. We’re talking billions, James. Billions. A contract like this doesn’t just change a
company’s outlook… it transforms it into a global titan.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “But it’s not over. No, not even close. I’m coming for you. What you did today thinking you could humiliate me publicly you must be mad.”
“They know you’re doing well,” Bartholomew said with a quiet emphasis. “And that’s precisely why this move makes sense. Your company is rising. But this deal… this deal is on another level. The kind of level where one misstep, one wrong whisper, one ill-timed reaction could cost them reputation.”
17:12 C
3/4
He was even starting to laugh at himself inwardly afraid of Cora? Really? That was impossible. She had been the one riding his coattails for years. Feeding off his shine like a moth glued to light. The same woman who used to beg him not to leave, who cried her eyes out whenever he threatened to walk away. The same woman who once told him she didn’t know who she would be without him.
The moment the doors flung open, the city night air greeted him, and there stood his secretary-already waiting for him, standing beside the sleek black car parked in front of
the building.
His eyes locked with hers from across the room those once soft brown eyes he used to admire now dark and sharp. But James wasn’t moved. He wasn’t shaken.
View All
