Chapter 90 Fractured foundation

Chapter 90 Fractured foundation
Steven’s POV

Lord Wade’s office had always felt more like a boardroom than a place meant for family. Even as a child, I remembered sitting across from my father at that massive desk, feeling less like a son and more like a junior executive being evaluated. 

Nothing had changed. 

The dark wood paneling, the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. It all spoke the same language my father had spoken his entire life. Control. Power. Business.

My father sat behind his desk, reviewing documents with his secretary standing beside him, tablet in hand. I stood near the window, hands in my pockets, my gaze fixed on the skyline beyond the glass. I had been quiet since I walked in, answering only when absolutely necessary.

Lord Wade finally looked up. “You have been unusually silent, Steven.”

“I am listening,” I replied evenly.

He studied me for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “And Kayla? How is she doing?”

The question was casual, but I knew better. Everything my father asked had a purpose.

“She’s fine,” I said, deliberately vague.

“That is all?” he pressed. “You were quite close not too long ago. I need something more than just the word…fine.”

I shrugged lightly. “We have both been busy.”

His secretary glanced between us, sensing the shift in tone but wisely remaining silent. My father tapped his pen against the desk, his eyes thoughtful.

“It would be advantageous,” he said slowly, “to involve her firm in the new interior design project. Kayla’s company has visibility, credibility, and influence in the right circles. A collaboration would benefit both sides.”

“No,” I said immediately, turning from the window.

The word came out sharper than I intended, and I softened my tone quickly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Lord Wade raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

I took a breath. “Kayla built what she has on her own. I don’t want our family stepping into her work under the guise of partnership when the true intent is expansion.”

My father stood from his chair and walked toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder in a gesture that might have seemed comforting to anyone who did not know him as well as I did.

“Steven,” he said calmly, “a damaged business relationship is not a lost one. You fix what is broken. You amend what no longer works. That is how empires are built.”

The words made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. He was not talking about emotions. He was not talking about people. He was talking about leverage.

I stepped away from his hand. “This isn’t just business.”

“To you,” he replied. “But everything becomes business eventually.”

I felt a flicker of disgust rise in me, sharp and undeniable. He did not care about Kayla. He cared about access. About numbers. About reach. He always had.

“I won’t let this company consume what she’s built,” I said firmly. “Not through me.”

Lord Wade studied my face for a long moment, then nodded once, as if filing my resistance away for later consideration. “We’ll revisit this.”

His secretary handed me a neatly organized file once she finished taking notes. “These are the documents you asked for.”

I accepted them, tucking them under my arm.

As I turned to leave, my father added, “Make sure the Chinese water at our amazing offer. This deal must not fail.”

“I understand,” I replied, already walking out.

The corridor outside felt cooler, quieter. I did not slow my pace. The sooner I was out of this building, the better.

On the way to the private jet, I was intercepted by a familiar voice.

“Steven!”

I turned just in time to catch Lilian jogging toward me, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her face bright with excitement. My younger sister had always been the opposite of our father, loud, expressive, and blissfully unaware of corporate tension.

“You’re leaving again,” she said, falling into step beside me. “Do you ever stay in one place?”

“Someone has to keep the family afloat,” I replied dryly.

She laughed. “You sound ancient.”

She talked the entire walk, jumping from stories about school to friends and teachers and complaints about exams. I listened, occasionally reminding her to focus on her studies when she drifted too far into gossip.

Then she glanced at me sideways. “So, how’s your girlfriend?”

I frowned. “Kayla isn’t my girlfriend.”

Lilian rolled her eyes. “That’s not what social media says.”

I stopped walking. “You need to spend less time on social media.”

She grinned unapologetically. “You should stop pretending you don’t care.”

I shook my head and continued toward the jet. “Focus on school, Lilian.”

As we reached the steps, she hugged me quickly. “Send my regards to Caspian,” she said. “And don’t forget our bet when you come back.”

“I won’t,” I replied, though I already knew she would remind me relentlessly.

Hours later, Hong Kong greeted me with thick air and glowing city lights. The private port buzzed with controlled activity as I stepped off the jet, scanning the landing zone instinctively.

Caspian was impossible to miss.

He leaned casually against a vehicle, sunglasses on despite the hour, his posture relaxed in a way that always irritated me. He smiled the moment he saw me.

“Big brother,” he said, spreading his arms. “Still allergic to fun?”

I did not return the gesture. “You’re entrusted with an important deal. Try to act like it.”

He laughed. “And here I thought you missed me.”

I never liked Caspian. Growing up, we had clashed constantly. He was careless where I was careful, reckless where I was controlled. I still did not understand why our father trusted him with something this significant.

As we walked, he taunted me relentlessly, bragging about his success in pitching a billion dollar deal with the Chinese partners, exaggerating details I suspected were only half true.

“Before we dive into meetings,” he said, slinging an arm over my shoulder, “let me show you the real Hong Kong.”

“I’m here to work,” I replied.

He persisted, naming clubs and lounges, promising distraction. I refused at first, but his relentless persuasion eventually wore me down.

The night blurred into neon lights and noise. Caspian flirted openly, charming waitresses, offering women to me like party favors.

“No,” I said each time, increasingly irritated.

Finally, he smirked. “Still stuck on Kayla?”

The name landed harder than I expected.

“Are you two official yet?” he asked casually.

I did not answer.

He laughed. “Figures.”

Then he said it, carelessly, thoughtlessly. “She always struck me as a social climber anyway.”

I snapped at him almost immediately.

My fist connected with his collar before I fully registered the movement. Rage surged fast and sharp, years of restraint cracking in a second.

“Take that back,” I said through clenched teeth.

Caspian’s hands came up quickly. “Alright, alright. My mistake,” he said, sobering instantly. “She’s self made. Multimillionaire. I know.”

I released him, my breathing heavy.

“Focus on the business,” he added quickly.

I stepped back, straightening my jacket.

“Gia,” Caspian called sharply.

His assistant stepped forward immediately.

“Prepare the vehicle. We’re leaving.”

Gia nodded and moved to carry out the instruction.