Chapter 3

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That evening, Colin approached me with a respectful bow.
"Miss Johnson, we've suspended all collaborations with Gray Group, including their flagship development in the South District. They've already sunk nearly three billion into the early phases, and their cash flow is about to collapse."
I nodded. "Excellent."

Colin continued: "Additionally, the Lawrence Group—the Shaw's largest business partner—announced today they're terminating all contracts effective immediately."
I raised an eyebrow. "The Lawrence Group?"
Colin smiled slightly. "The chairman is an old war buddy of my father's. When he heard about your return, he wanted to offer this as a welcome-home gift."
I understood immediately.
This was the true power of elite connections.
My father didn't even need to lift a finger—people were lining up to do his bidding, eager to earn his favor.

The Shaws and Grays were like paper boats in a hurricane compared to the Johnson empire.
"George Shaw and Mr. Gray have called your father dozens of times today," Colin added. "He hasn't taken a single call."
"I see."
I leaned back against the plush sofa, imagining George and Ethan frantically scrambling to save their empires. Strangely, I felt nothing.

This was just the beginning.
The following day, as I wandered through the garden, Walter approached to inform me that Ethan Gray was at the gate, insisting on seeing me.
"Let him wait," I said coolly.
I took my time, spending a full hour admiring the flowers before casually making my way to the gate.
Sure enough, Ethan was still waiting.
He was leaning against his flashy red Ferrari, his usually smug face now etched with anxiety.
When he spotted me, he rushed over with a desperate attempt at his old charming smile. "Vivian! Thank God you came."
He reached for my hand, but I smoothly sidestepped his touch.
"What do you want, Ethan?" I asked coldly.
His smile faltered, then he adopted a pleading expression. "Look, I made a mistake, okay? I shouldn't have listened to the Shaws. We can start over, right? About that South District project—"
"Ethan," I cut him off, "do you honestly believe we have any future together?"
"Of course we do!" he said desperately. "Come on, Viv, I know you're pissed, but we've been together for years! What we had was real! I'll break things off with Victoria immediately!"
"Feelings?" I laughed incredulously. "You mean the same feelings that had you parading around with Victoria literally the day after I was thrown out? Posting those cozy Instagram photos calling her your 'perfect match'?"
Ethan's face cycled through red and white.
"That wasn't—my father made me do that! It was just business!"
"Just business?" I smiled coldly. "And I suppose you're here now for 'business' reasons too?"
His mask slipped, rage contorting his features. "Don't get high and mighty with me, Vivian! You think latching onto some rich old guy makes you untouchable? How long do you think that'll last?"
He clearly still believed I'd found some wealthy sugar daddy rather than my actual father.
In his narrow mind, I was just another gold-digger who'd gotten lucky.
Just then, a sleek black Bentley rolled up beside us.
The window lowered to reveal Colin's professionally impassive face.
He nodded respectfully to me. "Miss Johnson, your father asked me to remind you about tonight's charity gala. You'll need time to prepare."
Then, as if just noticing Ethan, he frowned slightly. "Is this person bothering you?"
"Just a soon-to-be-bankrupt heir having a meltdown," I replied casually.
Ethan's face turned the color of a ripe tomato.
Colin nodded in understanding. "Ah, Mr. Gray. Perfect timing. I have some documents that require your attention."
He retrieved a manila envelope from the car and extended it to Ethan.
Ethan took it automatically, his hands shaking as he tore it open.
I caught a glimpse of the letterhead: "Notice of Asset Liquidation—Gray Group."
"What the hell is this?" Ethan's voice cracked.
Colin adjusted his glasses, light glinting off the lenses.
"It means Johnson Capital is now assuming control of Gray Group's assets and operations. In simpler terms, Mr. Gray—you're unemployed."
Ethan looked like he'd been tasered.
The papers fluttered from his nerveless fingers as he stood there, mouth working silently.
I watched his world collapse and felt absolutely nothing.
He'd made his choices. This was simply the consequence.
"Miss Johnson, we should be going," Colin reminded me gently.
I nodded, turned, and walked away without a backward glance.
That night's charity gala was held at the city's most exclusive hotel.
The guest list read like a who's who of wealth and influence—only the elite of the elite received invitations.
When I entered the ballroom on my father's arm, every head turned in our direction.
James Johnson's presence alone was newsworthy.
But me—the unknown woman on his arm—I was the evening's greatest mystery.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Who is she?" "Is that Johnson's new girlfriend?" "She looks so young!"
"Could she be the daughter? The one who's supposedly been abroad all these years?"
"Impossible—his daughter is in Europe, isn't she?"
Soon after, the Shaw family made their entrance.
They'd clearly dressed to impress—George forcing smiles as he worked the room, Mandy clinging to his arm, and Victoria preening like a peacock beside Howard.
When they spotted me with James Johnson, their expressions were priceless.
Victoria in particular looked like she might spontaneously combust from jealousy.
She'd clearly expected to be the belle of the ball.
A wealthy socialite—clearly a Shaw family friend—sauntered over with a wine glass, her voice dripping with venom. "Well, well, if it isn't the former Shaw daughter. Trading up to a new daddy already?"
Her voice carried deliberately, drawing curious and amused glances from nearby guests.
Victoria immediately adopted her wounded-doe expression. "Please don't say such things, Mrs. Whitman. My sister is... troubled. She's not thinking clearly."
Her carefully chosen words reinforced the impression that I was some kind of gold-digging mistress.
Mandy chimed in with a theatrical sigh. "Vivian, stop embarrassing yourself and come here."
Before I could respond, my father calmly raised his champagne glass.
The room fell instantly silent.
Every eye locked onto the business titan.
James surveyed the room, his voice carrying effortlessly without being raised.
"Thank you all for coming tonight. I'd like to take this opportunity to formally introduce the young woman beside me—my daughter, Vivian Johnson."
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