9 CHAPTER 9
“I’m not doing this out of love,” she said softly. “I want him there because James… is my
prey.”
His answer came fast-almost as if he had been carrying the number on his tongue all
day.
Oliver leaned forward, the grin gone now. “Let’s get to business,” he said seriously. “We heard the rumors about James, a gold digger. Your ex-husband. We heard you want him
out of the celebration tonight?”
“They’ll drag him across the floor in front of the guests. Beat the arrogance out of his
skull. Humiliate him publicly. Let him know he’s nothing but a speck in the eyes of power.”
“One hundred billion dollars.”
“These are the documents you requested,” he said. “Every deal, contract, and support we
gave James Lorenzo. But, Lady Cora…” He hesitated, looking at the sheer weight of
paperwork. “You won’t be able to go through all of these before the event tonight.”
“What I meant,” she said calmly, “is that at your age, William… you should be the one
bossing me around. Not following me around like a devoted puppy.”
Then Oliver followed, still watching her, but with respect replacing the panic.
“That makes you twenty-two years older than me.”
“What truly matters is devotion, Respect, Loyalty.”
William sat back first, tension easing from his shoulders.
“I’ll see you at the event,” he said quietly.
William’s expression darkened instantly.
“I don’t want to humiliate James with a rejection,” she said coolly. “That’s too easy. Too quick. I want him to walk into that room with his chest out, thinking he’s the star of the night. I want him to taste glory just a taste before I rip it out of his mouth in front of the entire city.”
Cora tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable but tinged with sharpness. Her gaze held his for a moment, and then her voice-cold and crystal clear cut through the air.
At that moment Cora paused mid-step, her head turning slightly toward the voice behind
her.
Her eyes darkened, slow and steady.
Oliver left the room with a silent nod.
Oliver, usually the calm and playful one, had an expression Cora had never seen before.
There was no smirk. No teasing light in his eyes.
Immediately William’s eyes lit up the moment Cora said the words Age truly doesn’t
matter.
At that moment William blinked, thrown completely off balance.
He looked up at her. “How much are you planning to pull out from James now?”
Cora had gone inside to freshen up, and for the next hour, the brothers waited quietly,
both seated but worlds apart in posture William stiff and brooding, Oliver casually
sprawled across the velvet couch.
William adjusted his cufflinks with wounded dignity, then marched toward the mansion.
Oliver followed behind, still grinning but wisely keeping his mouth shut.
They both settled in the lavish Freeman living room a space that felt more like a palace
hall than a place of rest. Gold accents lined the walls, and the art on display was the kind
only passed through family lineage, not auctions.
He stood silently, waiting, his heart thudding with tension as her eyes remained locked on
his, steady and unreadable.
He left the room with purpose.
Then, slowly, she turned fully to face him William Victor, the eldest son of the Victor
family.
But Oliver? He was the peacekeeper, the relaxed one, always smiling in the face of chaos. For him to react this way…something was different. Why the sudden panic?
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“You can’t be serious, Lady Cora,” he said, voice firm. “You’re not still in love with him, are
you?”
“How dare a commoner play with the tigress!”
There was silence.
He slammed his hand lightly on the armrest.
Immediately William blinked.
At that moment Cora paused, the smile fading just a little.
“Oh, and… Granny Mickey is dying,” he added in a low tone. “I got the message this
morning. We should go see her after the event.”
William’s fingers dug into his palm, his knuckles turning pale as he clenched his fist so
hard it trembled.
His tone grew steadier with each word, passion threading through it. “I will make sure you never have to lift a finger, You won’t cook, You won’t even speak before I get it done,
You won’t handle a single burden. Not while I’m here.”
He bowed slightly with a hand across his chest, his earlier frustrations forgotten.
Then he stood tall, firm, his hands folded respectfully in front of him.
At that moment Cora’s lips curled into a slow, calculating smile.
“You’re forty-five,” she said plainly, her voice calm but laced with quiet emphasis.
Moments later, Lan Brown entered, his arms filled with thick files and folders. He placed
them carefully on the glass table in front of Cora.
An hour later, Cora returned.
Cora took a step closer, as she lowered her voice.
“I’ll devour him myself, On my terms, not yours, not anyone else’s. And until then, no one touches him, no one approaches him.”
She descended the stairs like time itself slowed for her, dressed in an elegant
9 CMAPIERY
midnight-blue gown that hugged her frame with regal grace. Her hair was pinned neatly, and her aura had shifted no longer the woman who had just left a broken marriage, but a
storm wrapped in silk.
He clenched his jaw, the mention of James enough to ignite his anger all over again.
She leaned back, her tone smoother than silk. “Let him receive the envelope. Let the
spotlight fall on him. And then, at the peak of his arrogance… I’ll be the one to step out
and take it all away.”
With grace and finality, she turned and walked away, she didn’t look back, Not once.
“Then I’ll be waiting for you at the event, Lady Cora,” he said confidently. “And I promise…
I won’t let you down.”
At that moment both William and Oliver stood up at once.
“Age truly doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll do everything for you. Wash your feet. Guard your door. Serve you like the princess
you are meant to be.”
Her words hung in the air like a test, deliberate and unyielding.
Cora folded her arms and asked evenly, “How much have we invested in him… in total?”
Lan didn’t blink.
Cora blinked, slightly caught off guard, she expected William’s rage. That was normal.
But before he turned to leave, his expression softened.
At that moment William stood abruptly, a proud smile stretching across his face.
His voice softened. “And if it ever came to it… I would give my life for you, without
hesitation.” 2
Oliver blinked, hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m silent.”
It was the kind of smile that didn’t reach the eyes but promised devastation for anyone in its path.
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Cora’s gaze remained steady as the fire in her voice lingered in the air.
But she raised a single finger, and he stopped.
From a few feet away, a loud and uncontrollable laugh erupted.
Oliver stood next, more reserved. He didn’t say much just adjusted his blazer and glanced
at her.
William remained frozen on the spot, still processing the sting of her words, his arms slowly falling to his sides.
“No!” they said in unison.
At that moment his eyes blazed.
She took a breath and sat up straighter, her tone calm, resolute, and commanding.
He straightened his blazer and shot his younger brother a sharp glare. “Say one more word and I’ll have you fired from the company.”
“I swear,” William muttered, his teeth grinding, “if I had my way, I’d have my men hunt
him down now and bring him here. I’d tear that smug look off his face with my own
hands.”
William’s face was red with fury. “Cora, are you out of your mind?! After everything he did
humiliating you, cheating, mocking your family how can you even say that?!”
He was still fuming, his body tense, when Cora’s voice cut through the room like a blade through silence.
Then William leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression more
collected now. “So, tell me,” he said, voice calmer but still edged with curiosity, “how do you want the event to go? Obviously… you’re not planning to let James win that award
anymore, right?”
Then Cora finally spoke, her lips curled slightly, and her voice was low.
Every breath he took was soaked in rage. His mind raced with violent visions-of
dragging James by the collar, of pinning him to the marble floor right here in the mansion, of squeezing the very life out of that coward’s throat.
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It was Oliver Victor Cora’s age mate, childhood friend, and the second son of the Victor
family, He leaned against a nearby pillar, clutching his side as he laughed heartily at his
elder brother’s expense.
At that moment William cleared his throat and quickly composed himself. “Age…” he said, stepping closer with a soft smile, “is just a number, Lady Cora.”
She walked past them, and the air in the room changed. Even William, still slightly
bruised in ego, stood as she entered and only sat when she did.
At that moment William’s jaw tightened, his pride still smarting as Oliver’s laughter
echoed in his head.
Immediately William’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His face flushed not just
from embarrassment, but from a deep sense of being dismissed. His pride, polished for
years under the Victor name, began to chip in silence.
“James should be allowed inside the party.”
“I don’t need a man who exists to wash my feet and whisper that he’ll protect me. I need a husband, not a sugar boy.”
She nodded gently, her voice soft. “Okay.”
However Cora didn’t wait for a response.
Without wasting anymore he stepped forward immediately, his lips parting, eager to
seize the moment. “Cora, then does that mean-”
He took another step closer.
“That bastard,” he muttered.
He straightened and looked at Cora. “We’ve already arranged a unit of elite security, ten of them, Dressed plain, but trained. The moment he sets foot inside that venue, they’ll grab him.”
She studied him for a moment, her eyes sharp, unreadable. Her posture was upright, queenly, as the wind gently moved through her hair.
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