Roselle's POV
As I sipped on my whiskey amidst yet another lavish banquet, my thoughts couldn't help but drift toward Abigail Bardot.
"Just as I expected... a shaless woman who can't even think straight," I muttered under my breath, a smirk tugging at my lips.
In the original story, Abigail had driven the real Samuel Gebb into a pit of depression so deep, it was hard to fathom. But fate had a twisted sense of humor — because now, the Heavenly Demon had taken his place. And he'd rewritten the entire narrative in blood and fire.
"Poetic justice, isn't it?" I mused quietly.
The tragedy that once belonged to Samuel Gebb now belonged to Abigail Bardot and her pathetic companion Joshua Leinin.
As much as that woman hates to admit it, the truth was out there — crystal clear for anyone who paid attention. It wasn't even days after Samuel faked his death that she paraded her relationship with Joshua in public like so trophy.
"No sha, no dignity," I scoffed, twirling the amber liquid in my glass.
"And she still had the nerve to ask for a business deal with ?"
As for Joshua... I knew his ga. The man never cared for Abigail — just her influence, her empire, and her na. The mont he got what he wanted, he'd vanish, leaving her hollow and used.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes scanning the glittering ballroom, and then turned toward my loyal assistant. "Kaisel," I called calmly, "contact Joanna Leinin."
He raised an eyebrow. "Joshua's sister?"
"Yes," I said, setting down my glass.
"I intend to make her an offer... one she'll never refuse."
Because in this world of masks and betrayal, only power makes the rules. And I'm done watching from the sidelines.
After a few quiet hours of preparation and a refill of my whiskey, I finally made the call.
The screen flickered for a mont before stabilizing. There she was — Joanna Leinin — pale, startled, and trying hard to look composed. She wasn't ready for . Few ever are.
I gave her my usual cold smile and leaned slightly closer to the cara.
"Relax, Joanna. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't bother calling."
She swallowed hard, clearly trying to steady her breath.
"Ms. Vasilyev... I— Why did you call ?"
"Let's skip the pleasantries," I said, waving a hand casually. "We both know your brother is a parasite, clinging to Abigail Bardot like a leech to wealth. So let's not pretend."
Her expression tensed, but she didn't deny it.
"Here's the deal," I continued coolly, my gaze sharp. "I'll give you a very generous sum of money. All I ask... is that you help humiliate both of them."
She blinked in disbelief. "Excuse ?"
"You heard ." I leaned forward now, resting my elbows on the desk, voice low and dangerous.
"Think about it. Your brother — talentless, arrogant, and without a spine. Do you really think he can secure a future for himself?"
Joanna's lips parted like she wanted to defend him, but no words ca.
"He's nothing without her," I said, letting the truth dig deep. "And you... you're not exactly in a better position, are you?"
Her face flushed, but her silence told I'd struck the right nerve.
I let a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. "Here's what you're going to do."
I tapped a few keys, then leaned back as I said, "I've just forwarded a set of legal docunts to your personal email."
Her phone vibrated, and she glanced at it nervously before looking back up.
"Make Abigail Bardot sign those papers," I said slowly. "No questions, no gas. Just get her signature."
She hesitated. "And... what exactly am I getting in return?"
"Aside from the satisfaction of watching your brother's little fantasy crumble?" I paused. "Eighty million. Transferred to an offshore account under your na the mont those papers are signed."
Her eyes widened. "Eighty... million?"
"You heard ," I said again, this ti with a touch of mockery.
"That's enough to start over. Sowhere far from your brother, far from the ss he's dragging you into."
Joanna looked down, visibly shaken. I could see the cogs in her head turning, the temptation slowly breaking through her loyalty.
"Why?" she finally whispered. "Why go this far?"
I smiled, taking a slow sip of my drink.
"Because, dear Joanna... people like Abigail need to learn. Actions have consequences. And I always settle my scores."
She was silent for a long mont... then nodded.
"I'll think about it."
"Good," I said, narrowing my eyes.
"But don't take too long. You have forty-eight hours. After that, the deal's off."
I ended the call without waiting for a reply, leaning back with a satisfied sigh.
"One move at a ti," I murmured. "Let's see how well your castle stands, Abigail... when the rot starts from within."
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