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Beneath the Surface    

After weeks of careful planning, everything seemed to be falling into place.

 

My momentum was unstoppable, and it wouldn't be long before I amassed the millions I needed.

 

At this rate, I might even be able to pay off the old man ahead of schedule.

 

That thought sent a surge of satisfaction through me — if I cleared my debt early, I could demand my freedom and disappear before anyone realized what I was truly up to.

 

I had been relentless in the stock market, taking calculated risks with a ferocity that left no room for failure.

 

Every move was aggressive, yet precise. I poured funds into companies with the highest yields, setting up a financial empire brick by brick, step by step.

 

Along the way, I was already sketching the blueprint of my next venture — a business that would secure my power for years to come.

 

Of course, I wasn't reckless. No one could trace anything back to me.

 

I had carefully hidden behind a front — a fictitious investor that shielded my identity. Experts were hired to handle the tedious work, the details that I had neither the time nor patience to deal with.

 

They had no idea who they were working for, and that was exactly how I wanted it.

 

Everything was falling into place, and when the moment came, I would vanish like a ghost, leaving nothing but a trail of dust in my wake.

 

The big reveal would come — but by then, I'd be long gone.

 

A giggle escaped my lips as I envisioned it — my future was finally within reach. I could almost see it: a quaint village bathed in green, the air crisp and clean, far from the suffocating drama of the city. There, I'd age gracefully in a cozy cottage, surrounded by wildflowers, towering trees, and the gentle rustle of animals.

 

A simple life. The life I had always dreamed of but never truly believed I could grasp.

 

~RiiIinNgG!~

 

The sudden, jarring ring of my phone snapped me back to reality. The screen showed an unfamiliar number. I hesitated for a moment, then answered.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Eve? It's Lina," came the voice on the other end.

 

"Lina?" I asked, caught off guard. "How did you get my number?"

 

It was a silly question, really. She had the means to find anyone's number if she wanted to.

 

"You know what? Never mind that. Why did you call me?" I pressed, steering the conversation back on track.

 

"I just wanted to say thank you for the gift."

 

"Oh, that," I replied, feigning casual indifference. In truth, the gift had been a last-minute decision, an apology on behalf of Sophie's behavior at that last function. A simple gesture, but one that meant something more.

 

In their world of high society, such courtesies were expected. But for me, there was always a reason behind the niceties.

 

Getting closer to Lina wasn't just for show. I had a plan. When Sophie and Cole finally announced their engagement, Lina's influence would be invaluable. I wanted her in my corner — an ally when things inevitably went south. With Lina still favored me, she could make Sophie's life unbearable in the Fays.

Not that I planned on sticking around to watch it all unfold. By then, I would be long gone. But the thought still brought a smile to my face. I'm petty after all. 

 

The friction between Lina and Sophie was already bubbling under the surface. All it needed was a nudge, and that tiny spark could ignite a raging inferno.

 

And I was more than willing to fan the flames.

 

Since Lina already had a collection of expensive, lavish items, I decided on something more personal — a handmade watercolor portrait of her and Dylan. It wasn't even that beautiful, if I were being honest. I had rushed through it, barely giving it the attention it probably deserved, but I figured it would do the trick.

In their world of luxury, sometimes the simplest gifts carried the most weight.

 

"I'm calling to return the favor for the gift," Lina's voice echoed through the line.

 

I raised an eyebrow, half-amused. There wasn't anything special about the portrait, nothing worth a grand gesture. I wasn't fishing for favors. So, I politely declined.

 

"It's really not necessary," I said, my tone casual.

 

"Please don't say no. It's just going to be a simple lunch. You know, to get to know each other more. You'd be a family sooner or later, right?"

I bit my lip.

 

A lunch? I doubted that was her true intention. Lina wasn't the type to play things so straightforwardly. No, she probably had something else in mind.

My guess was that this wasn't about me at all — it was about Dylan. She wanted someone to talk to about her feelings for him. Someone who wouldn't judge her, and maybe . . . I was the first person who had noticed her feelings without saying a word.

 

It made sense, really. In the rigid world she lived in, there was no room for vulnerability, no one she could trust with such delicate matters. I had seen the way she looked at Dylan, the way her guard slipped when he was around. And maybe, just maybe, she had sensed that I understood. That I didn't care to pry or judge, but simply accepted it.

 

Still, declining a Fay's invitation was never an option. There was a game to play, and refusing her would raise more questions than I cared to answer.

 

"Alright then," I agreed, my voice measured. "Just lunch."

 

As I hung up, I couldn't help but smirk. This wasn't just lunch — it was a move in a larger game. Lina had no idea that while she sought comfort about Dylan, I was silently making my own plans.

Yes. It was very personal. I just wanted to make sure that she would hate Sophie more than I did, so when the time came, Sophie's marriage into the Fays would be a living hell. 

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