Chapter 109
The Weng residence glowed with its usual understated grandeur, ivory walls, carved mahogany screens, and a hush that suggested every servant knew better than to breathe too loudly when the master was in thought.
Arabelle swept into the drawing room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. She tossed her clutch aside, the smile she had worn all night fading the moment she was out of sight of the Fengs.
“Father,” she snapped, her tone laced with ice. “You cannot be serious about this. Adrian Feng? He’s nothing but a shadow hiding behind Lucien’s reputation. To even suggest that I...”
“Enough,” Weng Zhen's voice cut through her words like a blade. He sat in his carved sandalwood chair, posture relaxed, but his eyes glinted with authority. “This isn’t about preference, Arabelle. It’s about survival.”
She spun toward him, her jaw tight, eyes blazing. “Survival? You would marry me off to a man like Adrian, a man everyone knows is desperate to prove himself, just so the Feng elders can think we’re aligned? He’s pathetic, Father. I’d sooner...”
“You’d sooner what?” His gaze sharpened, silencing her. “You think you still have choices? That poison stunt of yours nearly killed Serena Lin. Do you think Lucien Feng is going to forget? He’s a man who nurses grudges like they’re treasures. And now that he’s married Serena, his fury will burn hotter. You’ve painted a target on your back, child.”
Arabelle’s breath caught, a flicker of unease passing over her face. She hated to admit it, but the mention of Lucien’s name sent a shiver down her spine.
Her father leaned forward, lowering his voice, each word deliberate.
“Adrian is your shield. As his wife, you’ll have the Feng family’s banner draped over your shoulders. Even Lucien cannot strike openly at you without tearing his family apart. That is why you will smile, you will endure, and you will wed Adrian if I tell you to.”
Arabelle clenched her fists, fury simmering under her skin. “And what then? I am to rot beside a man I don’t respect just to save face? To hide behind his name like some coward?”
Weng Zhen gave a dark chuckle, stroking the jade ring on his finger. “You won’t rot. You’ll play your part. Adrian may be weak, but his weakness is useful. He craves validation, and he despises Lucien. You’ll have no trouble manipulating him. And through him, we’ll pry authority from the Feng family, shares, influence, seats at the table. Slowly, the balance will shift. And when Lucien finally moves against us, we’ll have enough power to withstand him.”
Her lips pressed into a hard line. “You mean to use Adrian as a shield and a pawn.”
Her father’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Exactly. A pawn who thinks he’s a king. The perfect piece on the board.”
Arabelle sank into the velvet sofa, her pride warring with practicality. She loathed Adrian, loathed the thought of being tied to him, yet deep down she knew her father was right. Lucien’s vengeance was coming, it was only a matter of when, not if. And until then, she needed protection.
Her nails dug into her palm as her crimson lips curled into a bitter smile.
“Very well,” she said softly. “I’ll play the game. I’ll marry Adrian. But mark my words, Father, when the time comes, I won’t be the pawn. I’ll be the queen.”
Weng Zhen's smile widened faintly, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease at his daughter’s ambition.
“Then make sure you survive long enough to seize the crown,” he murmured.
....................
At an exclusive private club in the heart of the city, Adrian Feng lounged on a leather sofa, whiskey glass in hand, his laughter ringing across the room. Several young men from the upper circles, all eager to cling to the Feng name, surrounded him.
“I told you,” Adrian drawled, swirling the amber liquid lazily, “Lucien isn’t the only one who can secure a powerful match. The Wengs practically handed Arabelle to me on a silver platter. She’s beautiful, accomplished, and most importantly, she knows where her loyalty lies. To me.”
His friends exchanged looks, some smirking, some skeptical, but none dared challenge him outright. One of them raised a brow.
“Still, Adrian… Arabelle Weng was nearly engaged to Lucien before, wasn’t she? Won’t this… complicate things?”
Adrian leaned back, smirking wider. “That’s exactly the point. Lucien doesn’t get everything. He already swooped in and took Serena Lin, married her like he was parading a trophy. But now? Now he’ll have to watch as I claim Arabelle, the Weng heiress his family favored. You see, my friends, Lucien’s power isn’t absolute. And soon, with the Weng influence tied to me, I’ll have the authority in the Feng boardroom he’s been keeping from me.”
He raised his glass in a mock toast, basking in his own imagined triumph. “To Adrian Feng, the future of this family.”
The group chuckled, half in agreement, half in pity. They knew Adrian thrived on bravado. But the smug grin plastered on his face made it clear he believed every word he said.
Unbeknownst to Adrian, across the city in the Hillside Estate, Lucien Feng sat in his study, the glow of the laptop screen reflecting in his sharp eyes. The news of the Weng Feng “proposal” had already reached him. A thin, cold smile tugged at his lips as he scrolled through the reports compiled by his people.
“Adrian,” he murmured under his breath, voice like steel cloaked in velvet. “You think you’ve trapped me by chaining yourself to the Wengs. You think Arabelle will give you power? No. You’ve just handed me the perfect excuse to dismantle both of you.”
On the screen, detailed dossiers of Weng Zhen’s shady business dealings, offshore accounts, and Arabelle’s hidden scandals flickered one by one. Lucien’s fingers tapped the desk rhythmically, a habit Serena had begun to recognize as the sound of someone’s impending downfall.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes glinting with dangerous amusement.
“Let them celebrate,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “The higher they climb, the harder the fall. And when I decide to strike, neither Adrian nor the Wengs will know what hit them.”