Chapter 5
1474words
This was the gladiatorial arena of the vanity fair—and the "execution ground" we'd prepared for Vargas.
The black stretch Lincoln glided into the venue. Corvis adjusted his cuffs, glancing at the progress bar on his tablet—the fruit of our late-night efforts.
"The tech team has taken control of the venue's projection system."
He shut down the screen and turned to me, a predator's gleam in his eyes. "I've also stationed Commercial Crime Unit officers at the side entrance. As for the chip—while Vargas attends tonight, my special ops team is infiltrating his headquarters."
I arched an eyebrow: "Seems Mr. Vargas is in for quite a memorable evening."
"He's earned every bit of it."
Corvis took my hand, his palm warm. He looked at me earnestly: "Nora, after tonight, all threats will be eliminated. But I don't want us to end like this."
He hesitated before continuing, "I'll continue funding your company on one condition—remain my fiancée. I promise I can protect you."
I studied his confident expression, feeling a mixture of emotions.
He genuinely wanted to protect me. But his method was breaking my wings and locking me in a gilded cage of his making.
I didn't answer, awkwardly changing the subject. "I heard some VIP is attending tonight?"
"You mean Alexander Constantine?"
Corvis raised his eyebrows, explaining with reverence, "True 'blue blood.' The Constantine family's history predates America itself. If I'm a Wall Street wolf, he's the lion on the throne. His power and prestige are what every nouveau riche dreams of attaining."
I smiled noncommittally.
Yes, that old lion. Also the nagging old man who emails daily about coming home for arranged marriages—my father.
"Don't worry." Corvis squeezed my palm. "As long as you stay by my side, no one will dare look down on you."
"Tonight, I'll show you what the view from the top looks like."
…
The ballroom gleamed with gold, priceless crystal chandeliers hanging from the domed ceiling.
When the master of ceremonies announced with a trembling voice:
"Let us welcome, with great honor—the current patriarch of the Constantine Family, Mr. Alexander Constantine!"
The doors opened.
My father entered slowly, leaning on his cane embedded with the family crest, wearing a seemingly understated gray suit whose every thread whispered centuries of heritage.
His mere presence commanded respect—that innate nobility made even billionaires instinctively lower their heads.
The host added excitedly: "Mr. Constantine will serve as a special observer tonight. He has indicated he will select one speaker for comprehensive investment partnership."
The room erupted in murmurs. Gaining Constantine favor meant not just unlimited funding, but entry into the world's most elite power circles.
Corvis adjusted his tie, ambition blazing in his eyes: "That spot will belong to the Croft Group."
The gala officially began.
First to take the stage was our old adversary, Julian Vargas.
The old man looked positively radiant, clearly unaware of his impending doom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Vargas Group has always been committed to technological innovation…"
He confidently pressed the button to advance his presentation.
However, no financial report appeared on the screen.
Instead—
The screen displayed high-definition bank statements, audio waveforms of bribes to officials, and communication logs of him hiring hackers to attack competitors.
The audience gasped collectively.
Corvis and I watched the evidence with satisfaction—the overtime had been worth it.
"What… what is this?!" Vargas frantically pounded the podium. "Turn it off! TURN IT OFF!"
Just then, the side door swung open. Federal agents who had been waiting entered.
"Mr. Julian Vargas, you're suspected of multiple business crimes. Please come with us."
Amid the chaos, Vargas was led away like a beaten dog.
Corvis stood below the stage, adjusting his tie—the posture of a victor.
Amid thunderous applause, he ascended the stage.
Under the spotlight, he radiated confidence, almost godlike.
"Vargas's downfall teaches us a lesson."
Corvis's gaze swept across the room, finally settling on me.
"In this brutal business jungle, Trees Thrive with Water."
"Small companies are like fragile saplings—without the irrigation and protection of major capital, a single storm can uproot them. Dreams and passion are worthless against absolute resources."
He looked at me, his tone lecturing:
"For struggling small companies, when the strong extend an olive branch, the wisest move is to grasp it tightly. This can save you a decade of hardship. Refusing protection means choosing extinction."
Approving applause followed. Countless eyes turned to me, filled with envy and mockery.
"Mr. Croft seems to be giving his fiancée a lesson, doesn't he?"
"I heard she runs some small cosmetics company that's been struggling lately."
"If it were me, I'd be on my knees with gratitude already."
I listened to these comments, expressionless.
Just then, the host, trying to liven the atmosphere, suggested with a smile: "Perhaps your fiancée, Miss Nora, would like to share a few words?"
Before Corvis could decline for me, I was already ascending the stage, dress in hand.
I looked at the celebrities below, then glanced at my father in the VIP section.
"Mr. Croft's theory is fascinating," I began calmly, "but in my view, building business strength isn't just about conquest or seeking shelter."
"Products aren't cold commodities—they're bridges connecting hearts. A small company survives not through charity, but by respecting each user's emotions, understanding their joys and sorrows. This is the core concept behind my products—providing emotional value."
"Major capital can build the sturdiest ships, but only waters that understand the human heart can carry them far. Mindlessly accepting a powerful patron's 'enclosure' isn't a shortcut—it's getting lost."
As I finished, applause came from the VIP section.
Alexander Constantine set down his wine glass and stood. Those experienced old eyes now sparkled with satisfaction and emotion that brought tears.
The host asked excitedly: "Mr. Constantine, it seems you've made your decision. May I ask which partner you've chosen tonight?"
Father took the microphone, his gaze passing over the expectant Corvis and landing directly on me.
"I choose—Aurora Company."
The room erupted in shock.
The smile on Corvis's face instantly collapsed. He looked at me sharply, disbelief filling his eyes.
In his mind, there was only one explanation: favoritism.
Just as I was about to descend toward my father, Corvis rushed over and gripped my wrist tightly.
"Don't you dare!"
He lowered his voice, veins bulging on his forehead. "Nora, have you lost your mind? Do you know how old he is? He could be your father!"
He looked at me, genuine anxiety and heartache in his eyes:
"You think he's interested in your little company? Don't be naive! He wants you—your youth! Don't sell yourself for investment! If you need money, I'll give you whatever you want—just don't go with that old man!"
I was momentarily stunned.
Seeing his agitation, I suddenly realized he was genuinely concerned for me.
In his arrogant worldview, someone like me facing such elite power would only be used and discarded.
Unfortunately, he'd guessed the wrong script.
"Corvis."
I looked at him calmly, a playful smile curling my lips. "Have you considered the possibility that… he actually is my father?"
Corvis froze: "What?"
Taking advantage of his momentary shock, I pulled my hand free.
I smoothed my dress and walked step by step toward the VIP section amid hundreds of shocked, confused stares.
With each step, another layer of my "poor student" disguise fell away.
Father had already opened his arms.
I walked over, gave him a big hug, then turned and took the microphone from his hand.
I took a deep breath, releasing the edge I'd suppressed for ten years.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Constantine, for investing in my little workshop."
I looked at the still-stunned Corvis below and flashed a brilliant smile:
"But family doesn't stand on ceremony. Consider this money just pocket change for your daughter."
The entire venue fell into stunned silence.
I gripped the microphone tightly, raised my chin slightly, and swept my gaze across the room, my voice clear and powerful:
"Now, allow me to properly introduce myself."
"My name is Nora."
"Nora Constantine."
In that instant, it was as if a bomb had detonated in the ballroom.
"Constantine?! She's the Constantine heir?!"
"My God! The legendary heiress who went to live among commoners?!"
"Then Corvis was just… lecturing a Constantine about business?!"
Exclamations rippled through the crowd.
Looking at the pale, shell-shocked Corvis below, I slowly delivered my final line:
"Mr. Croft, you mentioned saving me ten years of detours?"
I chuckled softly, my eyes playful:
"I'm afraid if I'd actually followed your advice—that would have been the real detour."
"And one more thing."
I looked him up and down, slowly delivering the line I'd been waiting to say:
"If you're still interested in having any connection with me, I happen to be looking for someone to marry into my family. So…"
