Chapter 22 A Lamb to the Slaughter
Three hours earlier, Zachary had just returned from Novaria.
James, the CEO of Zenith Enterprises Group, had intercepted him at the airport, hoping to secure Zachary's help in acquiring a prime piece of city real estate. Knowing Zachary's preference for fusion cuisine, James had reserved a private room at Evergreen House.
By an unfortunate coincidence, their room was adjacent to Quinley's. Through the thin wall, they could hear the escalating excitement from the neighboring party.
James suggested moving to the tea lounge.
As they stepped into the corridor, Zachary unexpectedly caught sight of Quinley.
She sat among a group of strangers, playing rock-paper-scissors with a ruddy-faced man. Despite the boisterous atmosphere, she maintained her composure.
From what he could see, she was winning.
Lucas, following behind Zachary, also spotted her.
"Mr. Jennings, that's Ms. Elikin," he remarked unnecessarily.
Zachary's long legs were already in motion. His face darkened as he strode past, barely glancing in her direction.
He had traveled all the way to Novaria, ostensibly on business, but actually to check on the university she claimed to be attending. After spending more than a week searching every major campus, he hadn't found a trace of her.
He had assumed she was deliberately avoiding him.
The journey had begun with anticipation and ended in disappointment.
Before leaving Novaria, he had asked local contacts to continue the search.
Now, he returned to find her here—thriving in precisely the kind of environment he would never have expected.
Should he be happy for her?
An inexplicable anger simmered within him.
Inside the elevator, James attempted small talk, but Zachary remained cold and unresponsive.
When the doors opened at the lobby, Zachary stepped out. At the entrance of the restaurant, he encountered Harold Davis.
Harold stood with one hand in his pocket, moving with purpose while a woman behind him spoke animatedly.
"Mr. Jennings, what brings you here?" Harold spotted Zachary from a distance, his brow furrowing slightly as he approached with an extended hand and a practiced smile.
Both men were rising stars in the business world, evenly matched in influence.
Harold was known for his decisive ruthlessness, while Zachary was celebrated for his shrewd intelligence. Each commanded respect in their own way.
For reasons unknown, the Davis Group and the Jennings Group had not collaborated since a brief partnership three years ago.
Rumors circulated about a potential marriage alliance between the two families, with speculation that such a union could reshape Rosewood City's power dynamics.
Harold's friendly gesture deserved a courteous response, but Zachary's mood had plummeted to its lowest point.
"Just having dinner," he replied curtly, ignoring Harold's outstretched hand.
Harold paused, visibly confused by the cold reception.
James, standing beside Zachary, looked equally bewildered.
Zachary didn't give them time to process his behavior. He walked away briskly.
James hurried after him. "Mr. Jennings, the tea lounge isn't far. Please, take my car."
He hovered attentively, careful not to offend.
"Another time," Zachary replied dismissively as Lucas pulled up in the Maybach. The door opened, and Zachary slipped inside.
At the entrance of Evergreen House, Lauren and Harold watched the scene unfold.
"Is Mr. Jennings always so unfriendly?" Lauren remarked.
Harold narrowed his eyes, his expression unreadable. "You said Quinley Elikin secured that contract?"
Lauren nodded. "She's quite talented. Mr. Carter responded well to her approach."
Harold turned and walked back inside. Lauren quickly followed, pressing the elevator button. Together, they returned to the upper floor.
# THE OBSERVATION
Outside the private room, Harold paused before entering.
Through the partially open door, he observed the scene inside. Seven or eight people were craning their necks, watching the ongoing game.
Damon had consumed considerable alcohol, his face flushed with intoxication.
Yet his gambling instinct had taken over. He continued playing despite losing repeatedly. Quinley occasionally allowed him to win a round, which only fueled his determination to continue.
"Mr. Carter, perhaps we could play again another day?" Quinley suggested diplomatically. "You've had quite a lot to drink. It's not good for your health—you should rest."
She knew when to stop. She understood that successful business relationships required mutual benefit.
Preserving someone's dignity at the dinner table ensured pleasant cooperation in the boardroom.
"No," Damon insisted, grabbing Quinley's hand. "Let's continue. If I lose three more rounds, I'll sign an even longer contract with your company."
It was a tempting offer.
With each contract signed, Quinley would receive a substantial commission.
Tonight's performance had already secured nearly ten years of business, earning her approximately half a million dollars in commission.
If he signed additional contracts, her earnings would increase further.
After all, she had taken this job specifically to earn quick money.
When someone was essentially offering to hand her more cash, refusing would be foolish.
"Mr. Carter, the Seafood Chowder here is exceptional," she said, rising gracefully. "You've been so focused on our game that you've barely eaten. Let me serve you a bowl, and afterward, we can continue playing. Would that be acceptable?"
She filled a bowl with the restaurant's signature Buddha Jumps Over the Wall soup and presented it to him with both hands.
Before Damon could accept it, the door swung open.
Harold entered, radiating authority.
"Mr. Carter, to our successful partnership!" Lauren quickly stepped forward, pouring Harold a glass of wine.
He accepted the drink, his gaze briefly passing over Quinley before settling on Damon.
In that moment, Quinley froze.
When joining Skyline PR, she had done her research.
All information had indicated it was an insignificant public relations firm.
She had even carefully probed Lauren for information, but Lauren had never revealed any connection between Skyline PR and the Davis Group.
In her determination to avoid the Davis Group, Quinley had unwittingly walked straight into the wolf's den.
"Mr. Davis, your employee is quite impressive!" Damon clinked glasses with Harold, his eyes still filled with admiration as he glanced at Quinley.
Harold's gaze swept toward her. "Well done," he said simply.
Without further conversation, he excused himself, citing other engagements, and left the room.
With his departure, the energy dissipated. The other guests began to leave as well.
Quinley followed Lauren, helping to escort the clients to their vehicles.
# THE REALIZATION
On the return journey, Quinley was noticeably subdued.
"You performed excellently today, Quinley," Lauren praised. "Keep this up, and you'll go far."
Yet Quinley showed no signs of pleasure at the compliment.
"Ms. Morgan, when can I expect to receive the commission?" she asked.
Her motivation was purely financial. Money was her only concern.
"The third of next month," Lauren replied.
Quinley leaned back in her seat, mentally calculating the days until then.
Tonight, through her own efforts, she had earned over half a million dollars in commission. Lauren had mentioned that Harold was pleased with her performance, which might result in additional bonuses.
This meant that with a few more successful evenings like this, she could quickly repay Alicia's million-dollar loan and cover Dennis's medical expenses.
With money in hand, she could finally leave this place behind.
Lost in these forward-looking thoughts, Quinley set aside her concerns about working for the Davis Group.
Ultimately, everything she did was for the money. Overthinking would serve no purpose.
# THE SHADOW
That night, Quinley returned home very late.
Alone and exhausted, she dragged herself toward her apartment building.
The complex was deserted, illuminated only by dim yellow lights.
As she stopped at the entrance, fishing out her key card, a tall figure suddenly emerged from the shadows behind her.