Chapter 33 The Silent Struggle
Selena's POV
I got into Royce Sterling's car.
He drove himself.
The space inside was cramped, filled with the smell of expensive leather and that damn cedar-tobacco scent of his.
"You don't seem nervous at all," he said, shooting me a sideways glance as he drove.
"I'm not the one who should be worried. That would be the idiots who thought they could steal from me and got caught red-handed."
He chuckled softly.
"You handle pressure well, almost as well as when you dealt with that thief bare-handed."
I looked into his eyes, and my heart skipped a beat for no reason.
"Mr. Sterling seems to enjoy putting people under pressure," I turned my head to meet his gaze, "and really enjoys watching from the sidelines."
Just then, red light.
The car stopped smoothly.
In the cramped space, only our breathing remained.
He didn't speak, just turned his head, those unfathomable eyes looking right at me.
I didn't look away.
I met his gaze, examining him just the same.
The light turned green, he looked away and started the car again.
That suffocating sense of pressure finally eased a bit.
The car didn't head to any flashy club in the city center, but followed a winding mountain road toward the suburbs.
Finally, it stopped in front of a modern-style villa hidden among pine trees.
This place was extremely private, heavily secured—exactly the kind of place a narcissist like him would love.
An assistant in a black uniform with an expressionless face opened the car door for us.
We were led into a minimalist living room, where floor-to-ceiling windows covered an entire wall, overlooking the glittering night view of Monaco.
"Please, sit." Royce pointed to the sofa, then walked to the wine cabinet and opened a bottle of champagne.
Selena's POV
I looked at the champagne he handed me. I knew this smell well.
It had an aphrodisiac in it!
I put down the champagne, sneering inside.
This bastard.
This wasn't any celebration, nor any business discussion.
What was he trying to do?
I looked up at him.
I looked at the champagne glass in his hand, then at the one he handed me.
Same champagne, same glass, but my instinct told me the one in my hand had probably been spiked.
I couldn't drink it.
And I couldn't just sit here waiting for disaster.
This villa was too secluded, heavily guarded, his people everywhere.
If I got drugged, the consequences would be unthinkable.
I needed an excuse, a perfect excuse to safely leave this place.
"Mr. Sterling," I put the glass back on the tray, my voice sounding a bit tired, even weak.
I tried to make my expression look less angry and more drowsy.
"Today's summit, plus the long flight, it's all catching up with me. I suddenly have a bit of a headache, and my stomach feels off too."
I gently pressed my temple with one hand and covered my stomach with the other.
I even bent over slightly, looking like I might throw up.
"I think... I might need to go back and rest."
Royce's smile froze for a moment.
He clearly didn't expect me to pull this move.
Those deep eyes quickly scanned my face, as if trying to tell whether I was telling the truth.
I maintained that weak appearance, but inside I was sneering: Go ahead and pretend, you old fox. Let's see who can out-act whom.
Just as he was hesitating whether to let me go, his phone suddenly rang.
He frowned, glanced at the screen, then answered the call.
An urgent and tense voice came from the other end, and even though I was some distance away, I could hear some fuzzy words.
"...Emergency! Core equipment... malfunction... penalty fees... huge losses..."
Royce's expression changed instantly.
That confident, strategic look on his face disappeared.
He said a few words into the phone, his tone heavy, then hung up abruptly.
He turned to look at me, his eyes as complicated as a tangled mess.
He seemed to be rapidly weighing something.
"Astraea," he said, "I need your help."
My heart stirred.
Here was my chance.
"Oh? Mr. Sterling, I'm just a designer. What help could I possibly be?"
"My workshop—the main diamond cutting machine suddenly malfunctioned."
"You know the 'Chimera' technology inside and out. You understand those machines better than anyone. You... you're the only one who can solve this problem."
I snorted inwardly.
What! Just tried to drug me, and now he's begging for my help?
This man really took pragmatism to the extreme.
Of course I knew he was in big trouble.
Anything that could make this domineering CEO lose his composure instantly had to be serious.
For me, this was a golden opportunity.
"My head still hurts, Mr. Sterling." I touched my temple again. "Besides, your workshop is Sterling Group's core secret, right? For an outsider like me to barge in—that wouldn't be appropriate, would it?"
I was playing hard to get.
Royce's brow furrowed tightly. He took a deep breath. "Now's not the time to worry about that. As long as you can fix it, I'll agree to any condition."
He looked at me, his eyes unnaturally sincere.
If it weren't for that candy earlier, I might have actually believed him.
"Any condition?"
"Any."
"Alright." I straightened up, the weakness from moments ago completely gone.
"Lead the way, Mr. Sterling. But let me be clear—if your machine is really broken, I won't go easy on you."
A flash of delight crossed Royce's eyes. He immediately turned and strode out.
"The car's ready."
We got back in his car.
This time, he drove much faster than on the way here.
The car sped through Monaco's night, finally stopping in front of an ordinary-looking industrial building.
This was clearly Sterling Group's secret workshop.
It looked plain from the outside, but the security level inside was probably higher than the presidential palace.
As soon as I got out of the car, I heard anxious arguing and machine roaring from inside.
Royce strode ahead, and I followed closely.
As soon as we entered, I saw a group of engineers in white coats surrounding a huge machine, every face written with frustration and anger.
"What's going on?!"
A man who looked like a supervisor immediately ran over, his face covered in sweat.
"Mr. Sterling! We don't know! The machine just shut down out of nowhere—all the readings are going crazy! We think... we think it might be some kind of internal malfunction."