Chapter 188 CHAPTER 188
Roman’s POV
Power was never about strength.It is about leverage. And I had it.
Lara stood in front of me, composed as ever. The city stretched behind her through the glass walls, glittering like it belonged to her. Maybe it did.
I placed my phone gently on the table between us.She did not look at it.
“How much?” she asked calmly.
Her voice did not tremble. That almost annoyed me more than fear would have.
“How much what?” I asked.
“To delete the video.”
Straight to the point. I respected that. I leaned back in the chair and studied her. She looked immaculate. Sharp blazer. Hair pulled back. No sign of the irritation she must have felt knowing I held something explosive.
“It is not just about money,” I said.
“It always is.”
I smiled faintly. “Not always.”
She waited.
“I want a position on your board.”
Her eyes shifted slightly. That was the only reaction she gave me.
“And?”
“A significant transfer to my account. Enough to make sure I never have to think small again.”
“How significant?”
I named the figure.
Her brows lifted this time. Just a little.
“You think very highly of yourself.”
“I think accurately.”
Silence settled between us. She folded her hands on the chest.
“And once I give you this,” she said slowly, “you delete every copy.”
“Yes.”
“Every backup.”
“Yes.”
“Every cloud storage.”
“Yes.”
She leaned back.
“And you walk away.”
“Of course.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“You are not asking for romance,” she said.
I laughed. “Romance?”
She did not smile.
“I am not interested in you that way,” I said plainly. “Let us not pretend this was ever about feelings. I want influence. You have it.”
“And you think blackmail earns you a seat at my table.”
“It earns me a negotiation.”
She watched me carefully.
For a moment, I wondered if she was calculating whether to have me removed physically instead.
Then she nodded once.
“Fine.”
The word felt like victory.
“You will receive confirmation by tomorrow.”
“And the board seat?”
“You will receive an invitation to the next meeting.”
I felt satisfaction bloom in my chest. She was folding.
“You should have done this earlier,” I said lightly. “We could have avoided unnecessary tension.”
Her expression did not change.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“No.”
She sat down. ."So we are clear,” she added, and rose again, walking around the desk slowly, “this is purely transactional.”
“Yes.”
“I do not owe you loyalty.”
“Obviously.”
“I do not owe you protection.”
“I do not need it.”
She stopped in front of me.
“And if you attempt anything further, I will respond proportionally.”
I smirked. “I would expect nothing less.”
I left her, feeing taller. In control.
Finally.
Later that evening, my phone buzzed. It was Rosaleen. I almost ignored it. But curiosity won.
“What now?” I answered.
Her voice sounded tense.
“We need to talk.”
“I am busy.”
“You will want to hear this.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“Speak.”
“The Greywood contract is dead,” she said quickly. “Raymond is out. The leverage is gone. We need a new angle.”
“I already secured one.”
“You think Lara will keep her word?” she scoffed softly. “You underestimate her.”
“I do not need your advice.”
“I have a plan,” she continued, ignoring me. “We siphon funds. There is a vulnerability in one of her subsidiary accounts. Temporary chaos. No one traces it to us.”
I laughed.
“You are too late.”
Silence.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I have already negotiated my terms.”
“With her?” Her voice sharpened.
“Yes.”
“And you trust that?”
“I trust leverage.”
She inhaled slowly.
“You always think you are the smartest person in the room.”
“I usually am.”
“Be careful,” she warned. “Lara is not me.”
“I know.”
“And that video,” she added, voice tightening, “you will delete it.”
“When I decide.”
“You promised.”
“I promised nothing.”
Her tone shifted from controlled to angry.
“You think releasing it helps you?”
“I think it reminds people who holds the cards.”
“You are playing with fire.”
“I enjoy it.”
I ended the call. For a moment, I considered leaving it there. Letting Rosaleen panic. But pride is a dangerous fuel. And I was running on it. If I had secured my position with Lara, I no longer needed insurance from Rosaleen. So I opened the folder. Selected the files. And pressed send. Public domain. Anonymous distribution. No turning back. The satisfaction was brief. Very brief.
The next morning, I went to make a withdrawal. Large transfers require confirmation. Physical presence. Signatures. I stepped out of the bank feeling accomplished. That was when I saw the police car. At first, I assumed it was unrelated. Until they stepped toward me.
“Roman Reign?”
“Yes.”
“You are under arrest for blackmail and financial coercion.”
I laughed instinctively.
“This is absurd.”
“Anything you say can and will be used against you.”
They grabbed my arms before I could react.
“What blackmail?” I demanded.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
My pulse began to spike.
“This is a mistake.”
“It is not.”
The cold metal of the cuffs snapped around my wrists. People were staring. Whispers began. They led me toward the car.
“This is because of her,” I muttered.
In the station, they showed me the recording. Lara’s house.Her calm voice asking how much. My voice naming a number. Demanding a board seat. Stating clearly that I wanted her money. That I was not interested in her romantically. That it was transactional. She had recorded everything. Perfectly..
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“She set me up,” I said.
“You set yourself up,” the officer replied.
Then came the second wave. Fraud allegations. Questionable deals in New York. Irregular transfers linked to shell companies. Rosaleen’s name mentioned. My name attached to investigations I thought were buried. I requested one call. I called Lara.
She answered.
“You should not have done this,” I said immediately.
“I warned you.”
“You agreed to the terms.”
“Yes.”
“You said you would transfer the funds.”
“I did.”
“What?”
“You asked for money. I sent it. Under documented conditions. Along with your recorded confession.”
“You trapped me.”
“You attempted to blackmail me.”
Silence stretched between us.
“You could withdraw the charges,” I said quietly.
“I could.”
“Then do it.”
Her voice cooled.
“You should have thought twice before trying to ruin me.”
“It was business.”
“It was stupidity.”
“You think you are better than Rosaleen?” I snapped.
“No,” she replied evenly. “I think I am smarter.”
The words stung.
“You were blackmailing her too,” she continued. “Did you think that would never surface?”
I swallowed.
“I can fix this.”
“You cannot.”
“I will expose everything.”
“You already exposed yourself.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Please,” I said, the word tasting foreign.
Silence.
Then her final response.
“I am not Rosaleen. I do not bend under threats.”
The line went dead.
I sat there in the holding cell, staring at the
gray wall. The irony was almost laughable. I had believed I was in control. Believed leverage made me untouchable. Instead, I had handed her the rope and tied the knot myself. And now the only thing I controlled was the realization that I had finally overplayed my hand.