Chapter 18 The Big Hole
Myrdal's POV
I locked myself in my office and didn't step out all day.
I don't know how much time had passed when my personal email suddenly showed a new message notification.
I froze for a moment, then slowly got up and walked to my desk.
The screen showed an unfamiliar sender address—a random string of letters and numbers that looked like a spam account.
Who would be emailing me at a time like this?
I hesitated, but still clicked on the email.
The email contained only three words, no signature, no greeting, brief to the point of being eerie.
[Appendix C. Geneva.]
I stared at the three words, my mind going blank.
Appendix C? Which Appendix C?
Countless contracts flashed through my mind, quickly settling on the international contract for the North Star project—that was it.
It had to be that agreement signed with the European company.
My fingertips paused. I didn't rush to act, first mentally reviewing where the documents were placed before bending down to search.
The documents were piled messily, but I didn't waste time and quickly found that wrinkled contract.
When I picked up the contract, my knuckles tightened. This couldn't go wrong—I had to sort it out quickly.
Appendix C... I quickly flipped to the end of the contract, my eyes landing directly on the page marked "Appendix C."
My heartbeat was faster than usual—not panic, but the sense that this might be a turning point.
The clause was unambiguous: any commercial disputes shall be subject to binding arbitration in Geneva, Switzerland, in lieu of litigation in either party's domestic jurisdiction.
I stared at the clause, my finger tapping the desk twice lightly. I hadn't noticed this clause before, and the legal team had missed it too.
But I didn't panic. I already knew how good the European company's lawyers were. If we really had to fight the lawsuit on their turf, we'd definitely be at a disadvantage, and a nine-figure compensation would be almost certain.
But Swiss arbitration... the corner of my mouth lifted slightly.
Swiss arbitration was always strict, meticulous about contract details—this was an opportunity.
As long as I found the right people and made an issue of this clause, I could not only drag out the compensation matter but maybe even reduce the amount.
I looked back at those three words on the screen. The sender was completely anonymous, with no traceable clues.
But now wasn't the time to dig into that. Whether it was a well-meaning reminder or had ulterior motives, there would be plenty of time to investigate later.
Right now, I needed to get control of the situation first.
I picked up my phone and directly called the chief lawyer, my tone leaving no room for ambiguity. "Come to my office immediately, bring the North Star project contract and all related materials. Also, within half an hour, contact the best commercial arbitration lawyer in Geneva. Money is no object—I want the most professional one."
After hanging up, I tossed my phone on the desk, leaned back in my office chair, tilted back, crossed my hands over my stomach, and let out a long breath.
Not relaxing—just temporarily getting a grip on the pace of this situation.
Who sent the email?
My fingertips tapped the desk lightly. I didn't think too much about it.
No need to draw conclusions yet. Whether it was unintentional help or part of some other plan, this reminder came in handy.
The person behind it would show up eventually.
When that time came, I'd set the pace.
Selena's POV
After sending the email, I completely deleted all traces of that email account.
After finishing all this, I felt great.
I picked up a plant encyclopedia from the desk, ready to go back to the greenhouse.
Just then, my personal phone rang.
It was a number from France. I recognized it—Mr. Arnault.
I didn't really want to answer. This old fox's enthusiasm sometimes felt a bit overwhelming.
But after hesitating, I still swiped to accept the call.
"My dear Astraea!" His energetic voice with a heavy French accent came through the phone. "You'll never guess what interesting news I just heard!"
"If it's about some duchess wearing your competitor's jewelry at a dinner party again, I'm hanging up," I said impatiently.
"No, no, no, a hundred times more interesting than that!" He grinned like a cat that ate the canary. "It's about that Royce, you know? The heir of the family you were supposed to marry into."
Royce?
My eyebrow raised.
"What about him?"
"He was at the hotel that night too!" Mr. Arnault's tone was full of gossipy excitement. "He saw your spectacular 'performance'! And then, this young man, he went crazy!"
"Crazy?"
"Yes! These past few days he's been asking around everywhere about who 'Astraea' is! He even came to me, wanting to trade a ten-year strategic cooperation agreement between our group and his company for your information! My God, my dear, do you know how much that agreement is worth? He's absolutely crazy!"
My fingers unconsciously tightened.
Using an agreement worth hundreds of millions just to get my name?
This Royce, what exactly was he trying to do?
"Of course I refused him," Mr. Arnault continued, his tone full of pride. "I told him that Astraea is my friend, not a commodity to be traded. However... this young man is very interesting. After I refused him, he didn't get angry, just smiled and said, 'No problem, hunters always have ways to find their prey.'"
Prey?
That word made me very uncomfortable.
I hated this feeling of being targeted, as if I were a deer running through the forest and he was a hunter with a gun.
"Tell him that Astraea is a gust of wind—impossible to catch," I said, my voice turning cold.
"Oh, I love that metaphor!" Mr. Arnault said cheerfully. "I'll pass that along to him. But seriously, Selena, you need to be careful. This Royce, he's different from his shrewd and cunning father—he's a madman, a gambler who doesn't play by the rules."
I hung up the phone, but my heart wasn't as calm as my words suggested.
I mulled over that name.
Royce.
A madman willing to put up a hundred-million-dollar bet just for a name.