Chapter 212: It Might Be Fun to Attend

Chapter 212: Chapter 212: It Might Be Fun to Attend

The heavy walnut doors of the west lounge remained closed long after Derrick’s footsteps had vanished down the marble corridor.

Elizabeth stood motionless by the mahogany bar, her hand still hovering inches above her empty glass. The silence in the Roys manor was absolute, cold, and suffocating. Her mind raced, picking apart every second of the confrontation, replaying the dangerous glint in Derrick’s eyes when he realized how far she had gone to protect Jake.

’I forced his hand,’ Elizabeth thought, her chest tightening as a cold sensation settled in her stomach. ’I thought pulling Father into it would buy me months. Instead, I gave Derrick a reason to take Jake seriously.’

She looked down at her hand, noticing the slight, almost imperceptible tremor in her fingers. She immediately pulled her hand back, curling her fingers into a tight fist. She couldn’t afford weakness—not now, and certainly not here.

Crossing the room with swift, silent steps, Elizabeth retrieved her encrypted phone from her suit pocket. She bypassed her standard secretary lines and dialed a direct, secure line.

"Miss Roys," a sharp, composed voice answered on the second ring.

"Where is Jake?" Elizabeth asked, her tone entirely devoid of the warmth she had displayed earlier.

"Mr. Rivers is currently at Golden Investments headquarters in Apex Plaza," the operative reported. "He just concluded a brief strategy meeting with his core team regarding the municipal bond shifts following the Ministry of Commerce statement."

Elizabeth stared through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall toward the distant, glowing skyline of the capital.

"Contact Leon," Elizabeth ordered, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell him I am requesting a private meeting with Jake tomorrow. Have him set the arrangements."

"Understood, Miss Roys."

She set the phone down, her gaze lingering on the dark tree line surrounding the estate. Derrick’s parting words echoed through her head, sharp and jagged: You really should visit your best friend’s grave more often. Maybe then you won’t forget how dangerous it is to get attached to things you can’t keep.

A cold shudder ran through her frame, forcing her to lean against the edge of the bar. Derrick hadn’t just made a cruel remark; he was holding up the single most painful scar of her life. He had arranged the incident that took her best friend years ago—a ruthless execution framed as an accident, done simply to show a teenage Elizabeth what happened to people who became leverage against the Roys name.

It was the trauma that had haunted her for years, the main reason her pulse spiked whenever Derrick walked into a room. No matter how powerful or ruthless she acted in political circles, Derrick was the monster in her past who had proven he would eliminate anything she cared about without batting an eye.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, taking a slow, shaky breath to fight down the memory of rain, smashed glass, and quiet hospital corridors. Derrick knew exactly where to strike to draw blood.

’He thinks he can still use her death to keep me in line,’ she thought, her eyes snapping open, burning cold and sharp. ’He thinks I’m still that helpless girl who stood in the rain watching everything burn.’

---

Meanwhile, across the capital in the high-floor executive suite of Apex Plaza, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the Crest District.

Jake Rivers sat in his broad leather chair, leaning back with a glass of water. On his monitor, a video call was active, displaying Adrian sitting in his own apartment lounge, sprawling out on his couch with a drink in hand and an utterly unbothered smirk on his face.

"Troy Husks is absolutely losing his mind, Jake," Adrian said through the speaker, taking a lazy sip of his drink. "He tried to hold a damage-control press briefing to talk about infrastructure stability, but the press corps practically mobbed the podium. Nobody cared about his state tenders. Every single reporter was asking why the Ministry tried to censor you."

Jake took a slow sip of his water. "Husks relies on a title and a podium. When you take away the public’s confidence, the title doesn’t mean much."

"True enough," Adrian replied, tossing an arm over the back of his couch. "Oh, by the way... I heard through the grapevine that the Livingston-Brodick merger paperwork is being pushed through at light speed. Word is, their wedding is set for tomorrow evening."

"Let them merge," Jake said casually. "Alex thinks combining two debt-laden construction firms creates a titan. In reality, he’s just doubling his balance-sheet liabilities. If he wants to throw a grand party to celebrate his golden handcuffs, I’ll even send him a flower basket."

Adrian let out a quiet laugh. "Fair enough, man. Anyway, I’m out. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Adrian."

The call disconnected, leaving the suite in relative quiet.

A moment later, a soft chime sounded at the door. Alice, Jake’s personal assistant, stepped into the office holding a tablet in one hand and a thick, gold-embossed envelope in the other.

"Mr. Rivers," Alice said respectfully, stopping near the edge of the mahogany desk. "Miss Lorraine Clare is downstairs requesting an immediate audience regarding the Vault Guard analyst deserters integration. Should I send her up?"

"Send her up," Jake replied.

Alice nodded, setting the gold-embossed envelope down on the corner of the desk before stepping back. "Also, this was just delivered by private courier a few minutes ago. It’s a personal invitation to Mr. Alex Livingston’s wedding reception tomorrow evening. Are you planning on attending?"

Jake glanced down at the card. The gold calligraphy bore his name right above the venue details: The Grand Imperial Ballroom.

During their university years, Alex had been his closest friend, the person who stood beside him through every late-night study session and early business concept. Now, Alex treated him as a bitter rival, fueled by insecurity and a desperate need to outshine him.

’An invitation to his own wedding,’ Jake thought, picking up the heavy card and feeling the expensive texture of the paper. ’I don’t know why he thinks this is a good idea, but I bet he wants me there so he can flex his new alliance with the Brodicks in front of the entire capital.’

"I’ll think about it," Jake said smoothly, tossing the card back onto the desk.

"Understood, sir." Alice bowed slightly and stepped out to notify Lorraine.

A minute later, the private elevator chimed, and the heavy doors slid open. Lorraine Clare walked toward the desk with crisp, measured steps, carrying a sleek black leather folder under her arm.

"Mr. Rivers," Lorraine greeted, stopping in front of the desk.

"Lorraine," Jake said, leaning forward. "How did it go in the northern district?"

"The transition is complete," Lorraine reported, opening the folder and sliding a set of signed non-disclosure agreements across the desk. "The Seven signed without hesitation. They’re surrendering their independent public feeds and accepting full institutional integration under Golden Investments."

Jake pulled the documents closer, checking the signatures. "They didn’t push back on the non-compete clauses?"

"They had no choice," Lorraine stated smoothly. "They have exceptional technical analysis skills, but running a rogue boutique in an unfinished loft with zero legal insulation from Vault Guard was a dead end. Under our banner, they become ghost analysts. A transport crew is already moving their hardware to our secure server facility in Apex Plaza."

Jake glanced down at Daphne Jin’s crisp signature at the bottom of the contract.

’The Seven were the only analysts in Vault Guard who had the spine to trade against Crane’s bias,’ Jake noted internally. ’They have discipline. Under a proper risk framework, they’ll make an excellent secondary shield for our positions.’

"Good work, Lorraine," Jake said, closing the folder. "Assign them however you see fit. But keep them off public channels entirely."

"Understood, Mr. Rivers," Lorraine replied, taking the folder back and stepping toward the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, Jake’s personal phone on the desk began to vibrate. He picked it up, seeing Leon’s name flashing on the screen.

He swiped to answer, placing the phone to his ear. "Leon."

"Jake," Leon’s voice came through, sounding somewhat tense. "I just got a direct call from Elizabeth Roys’ private team. She’s requesting a face-to-face meeting with you tomorrow."

Jake leaned back in his chair, his eyes tracking the dark skyline outside his window. "Did she specify what this is about?"

"No," Leon said. "Her handler just said it was urgent and needed to happen off the record. Are you open to meeting her?"

Jake tapped his fingers against the armrest once. Derrick Roys had just left the capital, and now Elizabeth was reaching out directly.

"Tell her I can do lunch tomorrow at the Meridian Crown," Jake said calmly. "Private dining room on the upper floor."

"Got it. I’ll pass the message along right now," Leon replied. "Take care, Jake."

"You too."

Jake hung up the phone and set it back on the desk next to the gold-embossed wedding invitation. He looked down at Alex’s name written in gold ink, a cold, dry smile touching his face.

"A lunch with Elizabeth Roys... and a wedding in the evening," Jake murmured to the empty room. "It might be fun to attend..."