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Even if Hayden was using her as a tool, Lydia was more than willing to play along. After all, the Hollanders were no better- a pack of ruthless predators with their own hidden agenda.
Besides, to her, Hayden was also a tool she could use to intimidate others. It was simply mutual manipulation.
With that realization, everything suddenly clicked for Lydia. “I get it now,” she said and walked off.
Hayden frowned deeply at her retreating back. Then he shot a loaded look at Zachary beside him, asking, “Did she get the wrong idea?”
Zachary managed a dry smile. “With how you put it? Kinda hard not to.”
A flicker of regret crossed Hayden’s usually calm eyes.
Back in her seat, Lydia leaned in to Rachel, whispering, “Hayden dropped a hint–he might pick our family for the project.”
Rachel’s eyes lit up, but the excitement fizzled fast at Lydia’s next words. “He’s only torn between the second and the third
branches.”
Rachel just sat there, totally lost, like she hadn’t seen that coming.
“And Hayden said it’ll come down to who’s really sincere,” Lydia added.
Rachel’s eyes darted, as if she was calculating the odds.
“Hayden and I are getting married soon,” Lydia said. “If you can get me my dad’s calligraphy pieces and the house. That might help your chances with the project.”
After she realized that Hayden was using her as a strategic weapon against the Hollanders, slipping into her role as Mrs.
Leonard became almost second nature.
Rachel recognized it as a threat, but Lydia had a point. Patrick’s calligraphy pieces might look valuable, yet they could be her ticket to getting in Lydia’s good graces, and ultimately, closer to Hayden.
“I’ll think about it,” Rachel said. She was a pro at weighing gains and losses, but her husband, Sean, would have the final
say.
The bidding meeting wrapped up with no decision. Hayden just shrugged and said, “We’ll let you know later.” That was it.
Rumors were flying, but the biggest one was that Hayden had his eye on the Finnian family–until Michael caused a scene at the party, got thrown out, and blew their shot at the bid.
Henry, who always had his ear to the ground, heard it and called Michael right away. “How’d you let this golden opportunity slip? What the hell happened today?”
Michael was in his hotel room, scowling as he listened. He’d figured word would get around, but not this fast.
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He wasn’t surprised, though. After all, the party guests were all big shots in Jettridge. Their networks were tight, and
information traveled fast among them.
“If you’re just here to rub it in, save it,” Michael snapped.
Henry let out an exasperated sigh. “No, you’re way off base. I called to give you some good news.”
Michael took a quiet sip of his drink, defeated. “It’s this bad already. You think you can pull off a miracle now?”
Henry knew what he had been through at the party and didn’t blame him for being bitter. “No one won the bid today. Leonard Group said they’re still undecided.
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“Word is, they were into your family at first. But your little stunt made them think you’re flaky. If you do something to fix that image, you might still land the contract.”
Michael’s dull expression lit up. His eyes sharpened, locking onto a cabinet nearby. “I’ve got a plan.”
After hanging up, he carefully retrieved an emerald grail from the cabinet. Its surface shimmered with a soft green luminescence, the material flawlessly smooth and refined.
Ciara couldn’t tear her eyes off it. “Michael, this must be worth a fortune, right?”
Michael’s mood had lifted now that the project might still be salvageable. “Twenty million,” he said.
He didn’t notice the greed sparking in Ciara’s eyes. He just repacked the emerald grail, clutched the box tight, and headed for the door.
Ciara furrowed her brow and quickly grabbed his sleeve. “Michael, can I go with you?”
Memories of the party–all the mess–flashed through Michael’s mind, and his steps. momentarily faltered.
“I promise I’ll be good,” Ciara begged, her eyes still puffy from crying.
Just then, Michael’s phone buzzed. He set the emerald grail down carefully, checked the screen. It was Henry, sending the address for the Leonard Manor.
Harper was Hayden’s soft spot, and she was into emerald pieces. So Michael planned to win her over with the $20 million emerald grail. But going solo seemed too risky. He figured Ciara could help smooth things out.
He glanced at Ciara, who still looked upset, and mumbled, “Let’s go.”
They got in the car and drove to the Leonard Manor on the hillside in the western suburbs.
Ciara craned her neck, taking in the surroundings. Several traditional–style buildings nestled against the mountainside, with occasional birds darting through the forest, adding a dynamic beauty to the landscape.
Her breath caught at the huge courtyard–so this was Jettridge’s real high life. It made the villa Michael bought her look like nothing.
The burly security guard in the booth gave them a sharp once–over, his tone stern as he demanded, “What’s your business here?”
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The midday sun blazed, hot enough to bake away every drop of the earlier rain.
Lydia, done with her meal, sat in the car, watching the scenery slide by outside.
The silence was shattered when Hayden’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen–Grandma–and his brow creased slightly. Harper rarely called during work hours. This was out of the blue.
Harper’s voice sounded rushed. “Hayden, can you come home for a bit?”
A dark look flickered across Hayden’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone sharp.
Lydia tensed, sensing trouble. She glanced at him–his jaw tight, expression grim–and figured something must’ve gone down at the Leonard Manor.
As soon as he hung up, Hayden told the driver, “Head to the Leonard Manor.”
The car swerved, speeding straight for the western suburbs. It kicked up dead leaves in its wake and vanished around the mountain bends in a flash.
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