Chapter 129
ADRIAN’S POV
“I really do find that very annoying,” Isadora muttered as she poured herself another drink, the soft clink of glass echoing in the quiet room.
I turned to look at her, my fingers loosely holding my own glass of wine. “No one likes the idea of always being in the back,” I said with a small smirk, responding to the memories she’d brought up moments before.
We had been reminiscing about our childhood–something rare, but today felt like one of those nights when the past crept in. Isadora had reminded me of how, back when we were little, we’d race to the bus station, hoping to grab the good seats. She always ended up at the back, sulking, while I sat by the window. It was silly now, but back then, those moments meant everything.
She rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I always got stuck with that bumpy, squeaky seat. The one that smelled like old plastic and regret.”
I chuckled under my breath, not allowing myself to laugh too hard. I couldn’t afford to get too relaxed–not tonight. I had to keep my mind clear. I was expecting someone, and they were bringing something important.
Isadora poured herself another glass, watching me carefully. “You’re not drinking much tonight.”
“I can’t,” I replied, swirling the remaining wine in my glass before setting it down. “Like I said, I’m expecting someone.”
Right on cue, as if the universe had been listening, there was a knock on the door. The sound was sharp and deliberate.
“And that’s my cue,” I said, pushing my chair back and standing up.
Isadora gave me a nod. “Okay, but don’t take too long. I still want to talk about what I was trying to tell you yesterday.”
I paused for a second, not committing. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk,” I said, my voice firm but not unkind.
As I made my way to the door, my mind wandered briefly back to the dream I’d had last morning, yet another vivid replay of what happened to my mother. It was getting worse. What used to be dreams had morphed into nightmares, and now they clung to me like a shadow even during the day. Every detail played in my mind with brutal clarity, like it had happened just yesterday. The pain. The betrayal. The silence of the aftermath.
I opened the door, and there she was–Jennet, the media specialist I’d requested through my assistant. She was dressed neatly, with a folder in hand, and a professional smile on her face.
Good day, Mr. Westwood,” she said politely.
“Good morning,” I replied, studying her briefly. “You must be Jennet?”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded, her smile unwavering.
“Alright, come in.” I stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.
She walked in without hesitation, and to my slight satisfaction, she removed her shoes before stepping fully into the house. At least she respected hygiene. That earned her a small mental checkmark.,
I led her down the hallway to my study, where one of the maids was already placing a glass of cold juice on the desk for her. Jennet took a seat, her posture straight and attentive.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” I said, taking a seat across from her. “My secretary already briefed you, but I’ll make it clearer.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand you have a case you want us to look into.”
I leaned forward, locking eyes with her. “There’s a murder case that was labeled a suicide. It happened years ago. But I know the truth–someone pushed that person to take their life, and the people responsible are still out there, living freely.”
1/3
Chapter 129
Jennet’s expression shifted slightly, sensing the gravity of the task. I could tell she was already thinking ahead, figuring out what angle to take, and h to spin the story if it went public.
“And that’s where you and your media company come in,” I said firmly, locking eyes with her. “I’m going to give you the names, and you’re going to publish them on a specific date. I want you to expose every detail–every dark secret, every fraudulent act. Let the world see them for who they really
are.”
Jennet didn’t flinch. She crossed her legs neatly, her fingers tapping lightly against her tablet. “That can be done,” she said casually, “but at a price, sir? –
“I don’t care how much it costs,” I replied withoutation. “I’ll take c
Jennet nodded, her professional demeanor never slipping.
care of it. Just make sure it’s done right. I don’t want any mistakes.”
derstood. And when exactly do you want this information published?”
“I’ll keep in touch and let you know the precise timing,” I said. “The
moment has to be perfect. Everything needs to align.”
She gave a small smile. “Of course. Timing is everything in this business.”
-how did you get these names? It sounds like something that would’ve required
She paused, then tilted her head curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking— serious digging, or… inside help.”
I gave her a hard stare. “That’s not your concern. You’ve beenfold what you need to know. No questions asked.”
Jennet raised both hands slightly in a surrender gesture. “Got it. No problem.”
I stood, signaling that the meeting was over. “My secretary will handle the rest with you. You can see yourself out.”
Without wasting another second, she gathered her things and stood, offering a polite nod before she exited the room. Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she disappeared into the hallway, leaving the faint scent of citrus perfume behind.
As soon as the door shut, I sank back into my chair, my fingers steepled under my chin.
I wasn’t ready to release those names yet. This wasn’t just a petty vendetta–this was justice. The kind that needed precision and patience. On Monday, 1 expected a call from either of them and once that final piece fell into place, the truth would come crashing down like a hammer. And those two… they wouldn’t see it coming.
The door opened again.
Isadora stepped in, her eyebrows slightly raised. “I saw her leaving, so I assumed you were done.”
“Yeah, we’re finished,” I replied, rubbing the back of my neck as I stood. “So now we have time to talk. What was it you wanted to tell me yesterday?”
She hesitated at the door, then walked in slowly. “Okay. I’ll start slowly.”
人
That caught me off guard. Slowly? What kind of news needed to be eased into? It wasn’t like she was telling me a fairytale.
She sat down on the edge of the couch and folded her hands in her lap. “So… lately, I’ve been having some strange symptoms. I’ve been nauseous, vomiting, feeling dizzy, and exhausted all the time. At first, I thought it was food poisoning or maybe just stress.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And? Did you see a doctor?”
“Yes,” she nodded, her voice suddenly quieter. “And what I found out was… unprotected.”
surprising. Do you remember a few months ago? We slept together. It was
My body went still, and at that moment, I already knew what she was about to say. The words didn’t even need to leave her lips.
No way.
