Chapter 5
792words
Our meeting went surprisingly well. The eccentric nobleman proved to be a shrewd businessman who simply wanted to confirm our commitment face-to-face. Once Damian personally guaranteed the deal's security, the old aristocrat signed without hesitation.
The entire process took less than two hours.
With our remaining time, Damian and I walked the country paths surrounding the castle, having a conversation ten years overdue.
"I need the whole truth," Damian said as we walked, his voice hollow in the mist. "From the beginning. What really happened ten years ago?"
I stopped, gazing at the distant spires shrouded in fog.
"Which version do you want?" I asked. "Your father's story, or what I actually lived through?"
"I want your version."
I inhaled deeply, the damp air rich with soil and grass, painfully reminiscent of the Vanderbilt gardens.
"Ten years ago, your father Alistair was orchestrating a takedown of my family. But he needed a trigger—something that would make the world believe the Vanderbilts deserved their fall."
"That comment I made at the party..."
"It wasn't accidental." I cut him off. "It was deliberately extracted. Remember? That night you suddenly asked what project my father was working on. You claimed you wanted to learn about business—to understand how adults made money."
The color drained from Damian's face.
"I thought nothing of telling you. We were friends, after all." My voice remained steady while my words cut like knives. "I told you my father was securing financing to acquire a German pharmaceutical company—a cornerstone of Vanderbilt's European expansion."
"I... I didn't know..."
"Of course you didn't. You were just your father's tool, as I was mine." I turned to face him directly. "The difference is, your father won. Mine lost everything."
"Alistair used what I told you to preemptively block that loan. Without financing, the German acquisition collapsed. My father suffered catastrophic default penalties, and banks began questioning our solvency."
"Then everything fell like dominoes. Tax investigations, partner betrayals, media hit pieces—none of it random. All carefully orchestrated by your father."
Damian staggered against an oak tree, as if physically crushed by the weight of truth.
"My mother," I continued, "took her own life three months after we lost everything. Her note said she couldn't bear the shame or face an uncertain future."
"My father died shortly after—heart attack. The doctors called it stress-induced."
"And I—a ten-year-old child—became the sole survivor."
The London countryside wind turned suddenly bitter.
"Who saved you?" Damian asked hoarsely.
"An old German man—my father's business partner and the German representative in that failed acquisition. He felt responsible, so he took me in, gave me a new identity, and... equipped me for revenge."
"He trained you?"
"He forged me. Transformed a shattered little girl into the perfect instrument of vengeance. Languages, finance, psychology, combat—for ten years, I learned to survive in this brutal world, to conceal myself, to identify weaknesses, and to strike without mercy."
Watching Damian's tortured expression, I felt a surge of conflicting emotions. This man—once my dearest friend and unwitting accomplice in my family's destruction—now bore the crushing weight of truth.
"So," his voice cracked, "are you going to kill me now?"
"No." I shook my head. "Killing you would be mercy. I want you to watch your father's empire crumble piece by piece. I want you to feel what I felt ten years ago."
"But now..." I hesitated, "I've realized something."
"What's that?"
"I've been hating the wrong person."
His head snapped up at these words.
"For ten years, I've considered you an accomplice. I thought you deliberately manipulated me for information. I thought you were as ruthless as your father." My voice softened. "But now I see you were just another victim—used by your father and kept blind to his plans."
"So what now?"
"I want to work with you." The words surprised even me. "Help me destroy Alistair. You know him—his weaknesses, what he values most. Together, we can bring him down."
Damian was silent for a long moment.
Finally, he asked: "And if we succeed, what then?"
"Then..." I considered, "we return to our separate lives. You continue running Blackwood Group, I go back to Europe as a financial analyst. We pretend we never knew each other."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
After a long silence, he extended his hand firmly: "Deal."
I took his hand. This was a fragile alliance built on shared hatred. We both knew it couldn't last. But for now, we had a common enemy.
His awakened conscience? My lingering affection?
Hah. Neither of us had earned the right to such luxuries.
All I needed was for him not to obstruct me.
That would be enough.
