Chapter 10
1309words
The image of Evelynn crying kept replaying in my mind. She was just a seven-year-old child who understood nothing, yet had to bear the consequences of her parents hurting each other.
Just like me eighteen years ago.
Sitting in the darkness, I asked myself: What am I doing? I'm not just destroying Serafina and Damian, but also this innocent little girl.
But on second thought, I sneered. Did anyone pity me back then? When I was pushed down onto the cold cement floor, did anyone stop to ask "Is this child innocent?"
No.
So now, I won't stop either.
---
The results of the genetic test came faster than I expected.
On Wednesday afternoon, while I was organizing student files in my office, the roar of an engine came from downstairs. Through the window, I saw Jax's red Ferrari stopping at the school entrance. He strode toward the teaching building with a white envelope in his hand.
That victorious gait was all too familiar to me.
Twenty minutes later, Julian sent me a text: "Jax just left the Braxton Group headquarters. Sounds of things being thrown came from Damian's office."
I put down my phone, a slight smile curling at my lips. This chess game had entered its most critical phase.
At eleven o'clock that night, my apartment doorbell rang.
I wasn't surprised. Through the peephole, I saw Damian standing in the hallway, his usually impeccable appearance somewhat disheveled. Two buttons on his white shirt were undone, and his normally perfectly combed hair was a bit messy.
"Mr. Braxton." I slowly opened the door, "It's so late, is there something urgent?"
"We need to talk." His voice was low, with a slight tremor in that elegant business-like tone.
"Of course." I stepped aside to let him into the living room, "Tea or whiskey?"
"Whiskey." He sat down on the sofa, his hands tightly clenched into fists.
I took out a bottle of 25-year-old Macallan from the liquor cabinet and poured him a glass. He accepted the glass and drank it in one gulp, then looked directly into my eyes.
"Do you know?"
"Know what?" I sat down gracefully in the armchair across from him, crossing my legs.
"Stop pretending, Mr. Vance." Damian's voice carried a dangerously calm tone, "You know Evelynn is not my daughter."
I neither denied nor confirmed, just looked at him silently.
"Five years," he continued. "For five years I've treated her like my precious gem, given her the best education, the best life, and even started planning her future inheritance rights."
"A father's love is a precious thing," I gently caressed the rim of my wine glass, "even without blood ties."
"Do you find this amusing?" Damian suddenly stood up and walked over to me. "Watching a man discover he's been betrayed, does that satisfy you?"
I looked up at him, without a trace of sympathy in my eyes. "Mr. Braxton, you seem to be mistaken about something. I'm just an ordinary professor."
"Ordinary?" he sneered. "An ordinary professor wouldn't have eyes like yours. Wouldn't have such... menace."
As he spoke, he suddenly crouched down to meet my gaze at eye level. The distance between us was less than a foot. I could smell the mixture of sweat and expensive cologne on him.
"What do you want?" His voice became very low, almost a whisper, "Money? Status? Or... power?"
"Is this a business negotiation?" I asked, tilting my head.
"Of course." Damian took out a checkbook from his suit's inner pocket, spreading it open on the coffee table, "Everything is business. Everyone has a price, no exceptions."
He took out an expensive pen, signed his name on the check, and then left the amount field blank before pushing it toward me.
"Name your price," His eyes flashed with arrogant confidence, "Then disappear from my world. With your little tricks, your schemes, disappear completely."
I looked down at the check, with its strong, forceful handwriting. The Braxton Capital letterhead gleamed under the light.
"Unlimited," he added, "Write any number, and I will honor it."
I reached out, slowly picked up the check, and examined it carefully. Damian's expression relaxed somewhat; he thought he had won.
Then, right in front of him, I tore the check in half.
The sound of paper tearing was especially clear in the quiet living room. Damian's face instantly turned pale.
"Are you crazy?" he looked at the pieces on the floor in disbelief, "That check could have set you up for life!"
"Mr. Braxton." I stood up and looked down at him, "Do you really think everything has a price?"
I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, turning my back to him. Outside, the city night view was brilliantly lit, with many of those skyscrapers bearing the Braxton logo.
"Do you know what I want?" I turned around, looking straight into his eyes, "What I want is to see your world crumble, piece by piece, bit by bit."
Damian slowly stood up, his expression becoming extremely dangerous. "Who do you think you are?"
"Who I am is not important." I walked closer to him until there were only inches between us, "What's important is that your perfect life has begun to crumble, hasn't it?"
"You have no idea who you're messing with." His voice was low, threatening, "I can make it impossible for you to take a single step in this city."
"Really?" I chuckled softly, reaching out to fix his disheveled tie, "Then, please begin."
My fingers gently brushed against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. This normally cold and ruthless business tycoon was now backed into a corner.
"You want to destroy me?" He grabbed my wrist with such force that it hurt, "I won't let you succeed."
"Destroy you?" I didn't struggle, instead moving even closer, "No, Mr. Braxton. I want you to watch everything you have slowly fall apart, to experience what true despair feels like."
His breathing became heavy, a flash of vulnerability I had never seen before appeared in his eyes. In this moment, I saw the fear deep within this strong man's heart.
"What happened to Evelynn is just the beginning." I said softly, "Your wife, your company, everything you take pride in, will leave you one by one."
"You crazy woman." He released my wrist, but didn't step back, "Do you think Serafina would believe your nonsense? She is my wife."
"She is your wife, but first and foremost, she is a woman." I straightened my cuff that he had wrinkled, "And what women hate most is being deceived. What do you think she'll feel when she learns that you discovered the truth, yet chose to continue this marriage?"
Damian's face grew even more unpleasant. He realized that no matter what choice he made, he had already fallen into the trap I had meticulously set.
"The game has just begun, Mr. Braxton." I walked to the door, gesturing for him to leave, "Next time we meet, remember to bring more checks."
He paused at the doorway and looked back at me. "Mr. Vance, you'll regret this."
"I look forward to it." I leaned against the doorframe, watching him disappear down the hallway.
As I closed the door, I felt an unprecedented rush of satisfaction coursing through every nerve. The torn check still lay quietly on the floor.
Just as the elevator doors opened, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I answered.
"Miss Vance." It was a strange man's voice, deep and dangerous, "We need to talk. About Sophia Chen."
I froze.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who knows the truth." His voice carried a threat, "Tomorrow night at eight, the bench on 72nd Street in Central Park. Come alone. Otherwise, the identity you've worked so hard to hide will be on tomorrow morning's front page."
The call ended.
