Chapter 9
I was assigned to a guest room in the villa. The spacious bed was covered with a thick mattress and soft bedding. As I lay down and closed my eyes, I finally truly believed that I had survived.
From the wedding until now, I hadn't slept well at all. Every night I had nightmares of all kinds, filled with endless fear about the future. Today, I should finally be able to sleep peacefully.
This thirty million dollars in liquid assets would deal a massive blow to the Brown family, but it wouldn't be enough to bankrupt the Brown Group. At least given how tight the Lopez family and the Brown family are right now, they're joined at the hip - the Lopezes would never let the Brown Group go under.
I only meant to give them a minor lesson. Now, they are witnessing the price of provoking me.
That night, I slept exceptionally well. The soft bed wrapped around me like a cloud until a servant came in to wake me.
Michael was sitting on the sofa downstairs, looking at the numbers on his phone with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. Seeing me come down, he raised his eyebrows at me: "Congratulations, you really did earn back the money I paid for you. Care to explain how you pulled it off?"
I didn't hide anything: "Back in college, my friend got hit by a financial scam, so I developed this software to help him get his money back. While I was at it, I started working on the flip side - creating a comprehensive defense system against this kind of attack. Truth is, the software isn't bulletproof. The cyber crimes unit can trace back through the digital breadcrumbs to find the source code pretty quickly, which is why I told you yesterday to move everything to a secure account."
Their operations were already outside the law anyway. Even if the cyber crimes unit followed the evidence to find them, with it being a cross-border case, it would just end up going nowhere.
"What about the stocks?" Michael asked again.
I smiled at him: "I took the opportunity to alter their system. Because the capital chain broke, the system automatically grabbed useful information, creating the illusion of bankruptcy. So when the stock market opened, it automatically calculated the opening price. Actually, the price at that time was fake, but the Brown Group would quickly patch this loophole. By now, the stock price should be back to normal, but the purchases have already been made, so the money you're supposed to earn, no one can take back."
Michael gave me a light applause: "Indeed, you said you had a double master's degree in finance and management, and that wasn't empty talk. But I'm curious why you're so set on targeting the Brown Family, and why you ended up being auctioned on the black market—Emma?"
I wasn't surprised he knew my name. One night was enough time for him to investigate me thoroughly: "Mr. Johnson, I imagine your investigation of me went beyond just a name. If the Brown Family treated me like a daughter, I wouldn't be here. If there's love, no one can take it away. Bottom line is, I'm not the one they love. There is no Emma here. If I were Emma, I would have died already on the way to being sold."
"You seemed to want to choose Oscar at first. Now that I bought you, do you have some regrets?" He looked into my eyes with a half-smile.
I shook my head decisively: "I wasn't trying to choose anyone in particular. Whoever can help me do what I need to do is the person I need to choose. Mr. Johnson, you have that capability. I'm not in a position to make demands right now, but I'll show you my value. Give me three years, and I can help you build a business empire—not just in the gray market."
People who operate in this world all ultimately aim to legitimize all their businesses. I believed this temptation would be attractive enough to him.
"And then?" He waited for me to continue.
At this moment, I had to be sincere: "After three years, I hope Mr. Johnson can let me go back. I still have many things to do. But don't worry, Mr. Johnson, if you still need me, I'll be at your service anytime."
"Three years?" His tone carried hesitation.
I quickly stated my position: "Three years is enough time. By then, Mr. Johnson will need more professional managers, and I'll have lost my value. Also, please rest assured that during these three years, if all your businesses haven't expanded tenfold, consider our three-year agreement void."
Sure enough, he became interested: "How can I trust you?"
"If what happened yesterday and this morning isn't enough to make Mr. Johnson trust me. It's often said that time reveals a person's true character. As long as Mr. Johnson gives me a chance to prove myself."
Michael seemed unconcerned about my promises: "I can give you what you want, but you need to remember that no matter who you are outside, once you're here, you can only be my person. Absolute loyalty, absolute obedience. If there's any betrayal, I don't care how much money you can make me—I won't allow such people to exist. Understand?"
I nodded seriously: "I understand. But Mr. Johnson, as I just said, that software can't prevent tracking, so after using it once, it's basically useless. I'm not making excuses, but recreating something similar will take time. The timeline I mentioned and this issue don't conflict."
"What do you mean?" Michael looked at me lazily.
I took a deep breath and finally voiced my terms: "For the first stretch, I'll need to be hands-on with your operations. After that, I can work with you in my spare time."
This wasn't a simple request. To him, I was a stranger. In their line of work, most of it involved gray-area businesses. I was just merchandise he bought, and wanting to participate in company management—the other stakeholders probably wouldn't agree either.
But he didn't seem to hesitate much: "Heal your injuries first. I'll have someone arrange things later. I hope what you're saying now isn't just empty talk."
My nervous mood instantly relaxed, and I nodded at him: "Rest assured, Mr. Johnson, I never say things I can't do."
"Don't be in a hurry to make promises to me. I don't look at that—I only look at final results. If you don't disappoint me, I won't disappoint you. Three years isn't that long. I can still afford to wait." Michael spoke lightly, slowly standing up and gesturing to a servant, who brought up breakfast.
I stood to the side without moving, watching him eat his breakfast carefully while giving low instructions on his phone: "I'll have someone buy you some clothes later. Just tell the servant your size. With all those injuries, find a doctor to treat them and check you over. Your ugly appearance makes me uncomfortable to look at. Remember to buy something to cover your face."
I nodded obediently: "Okay."
Michael waved his hand: "Someone will take you to where you'll be staying later. After you've recovered, I'll arrange your work. You definitely can't keep calling yourself Emma. You'll need a new identity. You'll be called—"
"Emily Wilson," I said flatly.
From now on, there will be no more Emma in this world—only Emily, seeking vengeance.