Chapter 10
I was taken to the apartment Michael had arranged for me.
Taking off the ill-fitting high heels and slipping into soft slippers, I walked toward the dressing room with my clothes. Looking at my disfigured face, I almost screamed out loud.
I knew I'd been disfigured, and for so long I'd been avoiding mirrors. So when I saw that terrifying, twisted face in the mirror, for a moment I couldn't even tell—who was that?
Is this really my face?
No wonder Michael said I looked like a ghost. The reflection staring back at me was hideous, with cold, ruthless eyes—I looked like something straight out of a horror movie.
I bit my lip and stood before the mirror. A pale face, carved with deep scars, streaked with blood, and oozing yellow fluid—utterly grotesque.
I felt disgusted by my own ugliness, but in the next moment, that disgust turned into hatred. The people who made me like this deserved the hate more. I did nothing wrong—they were the ones in the wrong.
Tears slid down to my wounds, like tiny needles, making the wounds sting all over. My hand slowly moved across my uneven face. Once again, I swore that the next time I saw Sophia, she'd better pray to God for a quick death.
Every wound she inflicted on me, I'd return tenfold. Everything she took from me, I'd take back piece by piece, with interest.
After shedding my last tear, I stopped deliberately looking at myself in the mirror. I changed my clothes and put on the hat nearby. The black veil on the hat completely covered my face.
Soon after, Michael had someone deliver a gift to me.
Looking at Jeffrey trembling and kneeling before me, Michael said casually, "I had this guy brought over. What do you think I should do with him?"
Jeffrey glanced at me cautiously. The black veil under my hat covered my face, but he naturally knew who I was. He crawled to my feet and said in a trembling voice, "Please beg Mr. Johnson for mercy on my behalf. I sold you to give you a way out. I never expected Mr. Johnson to bid fifty million dollars. Please say something for me. I can find the money—I'll pay the fifty million dollars myself."
I kicked him in the chest. Looking at his disgusting face, now completely stripped of his former arrogance—claiming he gave me a way out was just because he was afraid I wouldn't fetch a good price. And now he wanted me to be grateful?
I pulled open my collar, revealing the still-scarred burn on my chest, then raised my right hand, still wrapped in gauze. I asked coldly, "Do you think I have any reason to speak up for you?"
Jeffrey's face went pale. He knew full well that on the ship, I was covered in wounds and nearly died—all thanks to him.
Michael seemed to be in a good mood and casually tossed me the dagger in his hand. "So, I'm leaving this guy for you to deal with. Emily, don't disappoint me."
I pulled the dagger from its sheath. The blade gleamed white, razor sharp. Jeffrey instinctively swallowed and scrambled backward. "Mr. Johnson, please spare my life. I really won't dare again. I really didn't mean to cheat you, Mr. Johnson. I can really pay you back. Please don't kill me."
Mr. Johnson sat down leisurely nearby and raised an eyebrow at me. "You're begging the wrong person. I said I'm leaving him to her, so your life is hers now."
Jeffrey immediately started kowtowing to me again. "It's all my fault, Emily. You can burn me back, you can beat me back, do whatever you want with me. Just please don't kill me."
I raised my hand high, and the dagger pierced straight through his foot, pinning it down. Such a small dagger, yet so sharp.
His screams suddenly rang out. I grabbed a rag from nearby and stuffed it in his mouth. "You like hearing people scream? Well, I don't. Too noisy. So you'd better hold it in. Every time you yell, you get another cut."
I pulled the dagger from his foot, then slashed it across the scar on his face. With one stroke, the skin peeled back, deep enough to see bone.
Jeffrey whimpered, and yellow, foul-smelling urine pooled where he knelt, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust.
"Mr. Johnson, have someone throw him at the police station. I only settle the scores I need to settle." I wiped Michael's dagger clean on my clothes and handed it back to him with both hands.
Michael didn't seem surprised. He just gave a look, and someone dragged Jeffrey away.
"Afraid to kill?" He looked at me with interest.
I answered calmly, "Not afraid. I just think that even if he dies, it shouldn't be me who takes his life. He was just doing a job for money. The person who really wanted me dead is someone else."
Michael glanced at me. "You're pretty clear about settling scores. But knowing you're not making empty promises is enough for me. Rest for a few days, then I'll take you to see my businesses."
Michael gave me ten days to recover. After ten days, he took me on a tour of his businesses.
That's when I realized that following him might have been the right bet. Michael controlled ten percent of the market in Solstice. In addition to his public entertainment company, foreign trade company, and communications parts processing, he also owned the largest underground casino and entertainment clubs here.
Of course, I also learned about his biggest rival here—Oscar.
His rise to prominence was remarkably sudden. From complete obscurity just a few years ago, he managed to capture the market in only five years. Many regard him as a business prodigy—someone who strategizes effortlessly while casually discussing grand plans, expanding into sector after sector and swiftly rising to the very top in each. His success seems almost impossible to replicate.
And the industries he was involved in overlapped seventy percent with Michael's, making them the biggest competitors.
Michael took me on what felt like an inspection tour, his face showing a proud expression. "These legitimate money-makers aren't the main point. You should know that in Solstice, the real money is in the people you buy. You could say it's a great way to make money. I've had my eye on this piece of land for a long time and have been negotiating with the government to get it. With land comes more opportunities. Since you want to prove yourself, help me get this deal done first."
"Is someone else after it too?" If negotiations had dragged on this long without closing, it meant he wasn't the only one who wanted this land, which is why they kept putting off the decision.
I soon met the other person who wanted to buy the land.
"Mr. Johnson is here again today? From the looks of it, like you're surveying your territory?" Oscar smiled at us, but his curious gaze kept drifting toward me, as if trying to see through the black veil.
Michael gave him a sideways glance. "Mr. Lopez, you're here too? I'm curious—are you more interested in other people's things?"
Oscar laughed. "If we're talking about being interested in other people's things, no one's more generous than Mr. Johnson, casually throwing down fifty million dollars to buy a woman. This beautiful lady beside you—aren't you going to introduce her? Her figure looks kind of familiar."
I said calmly, "Hello, Mr. Lopez. My name is Emily. I'm Mr. Johnson's assistant."
Oscar's gaze brazenly looked me over. "Emily? Nice name. But isn't it a bit of a waste for someone with two master's degrees to just be someone's assistant?"
Michael seemed too lazy to hide his feelings and left with me directly. "Mr. Lopez, no need to worry about my people. We'll be going now."
After returning, I got the materials from his multiple negotiations with the government and finally found the key reason why the government wouldn't agree.
I spent three days making thorough preparations and brought people back to the negotiating table.
The reason they couldn't get the land was simply that in the Internet age, even without direct oversight, public opinion matters. The government didn't want its reputation to keep dropping, so it strictly controlled what the land would be used for.
I presented them with a design plan showing a large-scale industrial park. In such a small country, under the law, everyone operates independently, creating huge wealth gaps and unequal distribution of social resources. This leads many people to exploit legal loopholes and spend a lot of money to smooth things over. This is the most basic logic.
"Our company's import-export business has reached its limit. The electronics industry is developing rapidly, and we can't keep up with demand anymore, so we urgently need to expand. With this land, not only will our needs be met, but we can also better drive employment. I think this is a win-win situation, so please consider it carefully."
What I needed to do now wasn't just help Michael get the land, but also help him turn his underground gray-area businesses into legitimate ones.
The negotiations exceeded my expectations. That very day, I got a letter of intent for cooperation.
When I handed the letter of intent to Michael, his usually half-closed eyes opened wide, and for the first time, his face showed approval. "Emily, you seem to break my expectations again and again. I thought even if you could pull it off, it would take at least a month. It's been less than a week. How did you do it?"
I answered modestly, "It's just about putting their needs first, putting yourself in their shoes. With that mindset, it's not that hard to pull off."
Michael tilted his head and looked at me with a wicked grin. "This makes me kind of regret agreeing to let you leave after three years."
"Mr. Johnson..." I was terrified he would go back on his word. With people like him, I never held any illusion of gentlemen's agreements—what I was betting on was their relentless pursuit of maximum gain.
Michael looked at me teasingly and laughed. "Just kidding. Emily, don't forget—you said that even after you leave in three years, if I need you, you'll still give it your all."
"Don't worry, Mr. Johnson. I never go back on my word."
The next time I saw Oscar was at a celebration party Michael threw. He wore a mask-like smile, raising his glass to Michael and congratulating him.
I quietly retreated to a corner. The whole room was full of glamorous people, glasses clinking, but to me, they were all just ambitious businessmen.
"Emily, you really surprised me. I suddenly regret not insisting on bidding for you back then." Oscar appeared beside me at some point, a smile on his lips, looking at me leisurely.
I straightened up, neither humble nor arrogant. "Mr. Lopez, everything works out for the best."
"Is there a chance we could work together on something?" Oscar proposed again.
"I'm afraid not." I refused without thinking.
"Don't be so absolute about it." Oscar brushed his fingers lightly along the side of his nose. "I think you actually want to go back and start over. This Michael fellow might not be able to help you, but I can. After all, my last name is Lopez."
Lopez? Gregory? Oscar?
When he said it, I knew that with him, I probably had no secrets left.