Chapter 25

Chapter 25
……………..THE FU'S GROUP OF COMPANY……
The city stretched far outside the tall glass window. The office was big, quiet, and cold just the way he liked it. A dark desk stood in the middle, neat and clean, with only files, a glass of whiskey, and his phone on it.

Cheng leaned back in his chair, his black shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his tie hanging loose around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up, showing strong forearms and the veins that flexed when he tapped the desk with his finger.
He looked like a man born to command dangerous, calm, and ready to destroy anyone who crossed him.
A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” he said, his voice deep, lazy, but with an edge that made people nervous.
His assistant, Marco, entered with a folder in hand. “Sir, the investigation report from the wedding… it’s here.”

Cheng’s jaw tightened slightly. He stretched his arm and took the file. “Finally,” he muttered.
Marco stood still as Cheng opened the folder. His eyes scanned the papers every photo, every payment, every message.
When he saw the names, his smirk appeared. “Vivian Li… and my father, Reginald.” He laughed softly, no humor in it. “Should’ve guessed.”
Marco hesitated. “What do you want us to do, sir? File a complaint?”

Cheng looked up slowly, his gaze sharp enough to slice through steel. “A complaint?” He let out a dark chuckle. “No, Marco. I don’t waste my time with the law the laws are in my hands. People like them need lessons, not courtrooms.”
He stood, walked to the window, and spoke without turning. “Vivian first. Call her agency. Tell them to blacklist her. I want every deal, every brand, every role gone.”
Marco quickly scribbled notes. “Yes, sir.”
“And that new female lead role she’s been dying for?” Cheng continued, voice low and controlled. “Give it to her rival Clara kim. Make sure it trends in less than an hour. I want her humiliation public.”
Marco blinked. “Sir, that might cause ”
“I don’t care,” Cheng cut in, his tone colder now. “Let the world watch her crumble.”
He turned back to the desk, opening another folder. “Now, about this two hypocrites of friends, what about they families business.”
Marco cleared his throat. “We found enough dirt to crush them. One father have been moving dirty money through dummy companies. Illegal exports and the other tax evasion for 20 years… all of it.”
“Leak everything,” Cheng ordered flatly. “Send the files to every financial watchdog and news outlet. Let their family names rot on the stock market. By tomorrow, I want to see their shares in the gutter.”
“Yes, sir.” Marco hesitated before asking, “And your father?”
Cheng froze for half a second, then looked up, his eyes burning with quiet rage. “Not him. Not yet.”
He walked slowly to his whiskey glass, took a sip, and spoke in a low, calm tone that sounded far more dangerous than shouting.
“My father likes power. He built his name off mine. But he forgot something.” Cheng’s lips curled into a dark smirk. “I made this empire where it is today. And when I decide to cut him off… he’ll fall harder than any of them.”
Marco nodded nervously. “Understood, sir.”
Cheng set his glass down, tapping the edge with one finger. “Tell everyone in PR to post about Clara kim’s new role. Make it loud. Vivian’s downfall starts today.”
“Yes, sir.”
Marco turned to leave but paused when Cheng’s phone buzzed on the desk. Cheng grabbed it, glancing at the unknown number.
A single message appeared:
‘You’re playing with fire, Cheng. Even blood burns.’
Cheng’s smirk deepened. He tossed the phone back on the desk and exhaled slowly.
“Let it burn then,” he murmured, voice low, rough, and deadly calm.
Marco swallowed hard and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
The office went quiet again. Only the sound of the ticking clock and the city outside filled the room and Cheng Fu sat there, the king of his own chaos, planning the next move that would bring his enemies to their knees.
……………VOGUE MAGAZINE COMPANY…………
Vivian sat in the makeup chair, scrolling through her phone with a bored look. The room buzzed with stylists, lights, and camera crew getting ready for her magazine shoot.
She smirked at her reflection as she looked at the mirror. “They can talk all they want,” she muttered. “I’m still the face everyone wants to see.”
Her manager, Tara, rushed in, face pale. “Vivian ”
“What now?” Vivian snapped, flipping her hair back. “I told you no interviews about my body getting done. I don’t need to explain myself to anyone.”
Tara swallowed hard, clutching her tablet. “You might want to see this.”
Vivian frowned, taking the tablet from her hand. The screen showed breaking news headlines flashing across every site, every gossip page, every trending feed.
‘Vivian Fu Dropped from Upcoming Film Role Replaced by Rival, Clara Kim!’
‘Actress Vivian Li Blacklisted After Leaked Evidence of Involvement in Fu Wedding Scandal!’
‘Sponsors Withdraw Support, Public Demands Accountability!’
Vivian’s smile vanished.
“What the hell is this?”
Tara took a step back. “It’s everywhere. The agency released an official statement they’ve cut all ties with you. Brands are backing out too.”
Vivian stood, knocking the chair backward. “They can’t do that! I am the lead! That role is mine!”
Her voice echoed through the dressing room, but the crew had already started whispering, pulling out their phones, pretending to check their makeup while recording her meltdown.
“Turn those off!” Vivian shouted, glaring at them. “All of you!”
Her phone buzzed again, dozens of notifications popping up.
She clicked one a trending video.
It showed Clara kim standing on stage at a press event, smiling shyly as reporters clapped.
“We’re proud to announce Clara Kim as the new female lead for Scarlet Veins, replacing Vivian Li,”
said the director.
“Sometimes the industry rewards those who play fair.”
Vivian’s vision blurred with rage.
Her chest heaved. “Clara… that bitch…”
Tara tried to speak softly. “Vivian, we need to lay low. It’s not just the role. The company they found messages, payoffs, videos. Your connection to the leak…”
Vivian turned sharply. “Don’t say it.”
“It’s over, Vivian,” Tara whispered. “You crossed the wrong man. Cheng Fu doesn’t forgive.”
Vivian froze.
The name hit her like a punch.
She backed away, shaking her head. “No… he wouldn’t. He can’t do this to me.”
Tara looked down. “He already did.”
Vivian’s phone buzzed again.
A message appeared on her screen unknown number.
‘You wanted fame. Now you have it. Enjoy the spotlight, sweetheart. Your favourite Clara.’
Her hand trembled. The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a sharp crack.
Everyone in the room was staring now some with pity, some with hidden satisfaction.
Vivian turned to the mirror. Her reflection looked ruined foundation cracking, mascara running, eyes wide with disbelief.
“This isn’t over,” she whispered to herself. “He thinks he can destroy me? Fine. Let’s see how far he’ll go when I ruin his perfect little wife.”
“I'm going to see Reginald, he should solve this.“
She grabbed her bag, stormed past the reporters waiting outside, and pushed through the flashing cameras.
Vivian’s heart pounded as her car screeched to a stop in front of Reginald’s grand villa. The headlines dragging her name through the mud, her face plastered across every gossip site. "Actress caught in sex scandal on wedding night," that's what they called it to make it more popular which even surpass the sex tape incident. She’d lost her contract, her reputation, her fans. Everything was falling apart even have father's company is facing backlash.
She stormed through the villa, ignoring the guards’ protests. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she pushed open the living room doors. Reginald sat on a leather couch, shirt slightly unbuttoned, a cigar burning between his fingers. The man looked too calm for her chaos he already expected her to come as soon as he saw the news.
“Mr Fu,” she blurted out, her voice cracking. “You have to help me. They ruined me! Cheng he’s destroying me publicly, and ”
Reginald didn’t even look up from his glass of whiskey. “And you fucking deserve it.”
Vivian froze, her chest tightening. “Wh what?”
He leaned back, eyes cold as steel. “You think I don’t know what you're trying to do? You messed with the wrong goddamn wedding. You thought exposing that tape would make him crawl back to you? Stupid girl. You just dug your own grave.”
Vivian’s lip trembled. “I did it for you! For us! You told me Mei ”
“Shut the fuck up.” His voice boomed across the room. “Don’t drag my name into your mess. You were a tool, Vivian. That’s all you ever were. You think I care about your petty career? Cheng’s already cleaning up this shit storm while I have shares breathing down my neck because of you.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she stepped closer. “Please, Mr Fu… you can talk to him. Just tell him I didn’t mean to ”
He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “You didn’t mean to? You leaked a goddamn sex tape at his wedding, Vivian. You think any man would forgive that? Hell, even the tabloids won’t touch you now. You’re poison.”
Vivian’s knees nearly gave out. “I can’t live like this,” she whispered. “They’re calling me a whore online ”
“Then stop acting like one,” he snapped, slamming his glass down. “You fucked with the wrong man. Cheng’s not like me he doesn’t forget, and he doesn’t forgive. You’re done in this city. And if I were you, I’d disappear before he decides to really clean up the trash.”
Vivian’s tears spilled over. “You used me…”
Reginald smirked. “And you let me. Don’t start playing the victim now. You wanted to be his bride so bad, a seat beside a billionaire. You forget who he is and then you got what you deserved.”
She took a step back, her voice trembling. “You’re a monster you old wretched monster.”
He stood up slowly, towering over her. His tie hung loose, shirt collar open, cigar still between his fingers as he stared her down. “Sweetheart,” he said in a low, menacing tone. “I’m just honest. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call someone who’ll make you disappear for real.”
Vivian’s breath caught. She turned and stumbled out, her sobs echoing through the hall as Reginald sank back into the couch, exhaling smoke.
He muttered to himself, voice rough and cold. “Stupid bitch. Always thinking emotions can win in a war built on money and blood.”
Vivian stumbled out of the villa like someone shoved a knife in her chest. Her mascara was streaked, breath ragged, but the fury in her eyes wasn’t weakening it was sharpening.
She slammed the car door so hard the window rattled. For a second she just sat, fists white on the steering wheel, tasting bile and shame. Then she laughed a small, cold sound that had nothing funny in it.
“No. No fucking way,” she whispered to herself. “They think they Used me. They think Cheng can kiss my career goodbye and walk free? Nah. I’ll make them all pay. Every single one.”
Her thumb hovered overher phone for a particular contact. A name she hadn’t used in years blinked on the screen: SERGIO. Old number. The kind of man who did things clean or messy whichever you asked for, whichever you paid for.
She hit call.
The line clicked. A rough voice answered, slow, amused. “Vivian. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Listen,” she said, words tumbling, venom on every one. “I need the Fu's to burn. I need death and pain that smash every window in that family’s house. I want them hungry in agony. I want them desperate. And I want Mei to be the first to fall.”
Sergio hummed. “You sure you want to poke that hornet’s nest? Fu is big. Dangerous. You want all that on your head?”
“Yes,” Vivian snapped. “
Sergio’s voice dropped. “That’s ambitious. Expensive.”
“Money’s not my problem,” Vivian said. “You get me results, I’ll pay. I’ll make you rich enough to disappear for a decade. Or I’ll make you legend. Your pick.”
He laughed low. “Crazy bitch. Fine. I’ll assemble a team. I know people who can do anything, and people who can make the country puke blood. You ready to watch a dynasty choke?”
“Born ready,” she said.
Then hung up. Vivian’s hands were shaking as put the phone down and finally allowed herself to smile.She’d been pushed off the cliff now she would watch the cliff crumble under her enemies.