Chapter 797: Marriage Alliance, Exploitation, Conspiracy
Chapter 797: Marriage Alliance, Exploitation, Conspiracy
After a wild night of debauchery, Debra was woken up by a waitress in the bathroom. Without even properly cleaning herself up, she slipped out through the back door of the club in a sorry state.
By the time she got outside, it was broad daylight — already the afternoon of the next day.
There was no way Debra could show up at Riverside Villa looking like this. She drove straight to one of the Wellington Group's luxury hotels and locked herself in the presidential suite she kept year-round. She ran a bath and washed away the filth and sweat left from a night of being ravaged, her mind drifting in and out of flashes from the night before — tangled up with that hot-bodied, incredibly skilled male escort.
Damn... the guy was absolutely unreal.
Too bad she hadn't gotten his number. She'd love to see him again sometime.
Once she'd cleaned up and changed into the designer outfit the staff had brought in, Debra was back to her usual self — polished on the outside, rotten on the inside. Then she had her driver take her back to Riverside Villa.
The moment she walked in, she heard laughter coming from the sitting room.
"Do we have guests?" Debra stopped the butler to ask.
"Yes, Ms. Debra. Mayor Mario and his wife are here with their son. Mr. Wellington is with them now."
Debra's expression flickered for a moment, then a cold smirk settled in her chest. Austin, that idiot — he really was that woman's most devoted lapdog. Didn't waste any time, did he.
She quickly smoothed her hair, put on her best gentle, gracious smile, and walked into the sitting room.
"Dad, you have company."
Debra made it look like she'd just happened to wander in. "Oh — Mayor Mario, Mrs. Mario! And Austin too. Good afternoon, everyone."
Patrick caught a faint whiff of last night's alcohol still clinging to her and frowned slightly, but with guests present, he kept his expression perfectly composed.
Mayor Mario and his wife had never thought much of Debra. Their breeding kept them from showing it, but their smiles were purely polite — they simply picked up their cups and sipped without a word.
Austin, the spineless coward, couldn't even bring himself to look at her directly, working overtime to play the role of the upright, wholesome, promising future son-in-law.
As if he hadn't spent that night at the hotel tangled up with Jessica, not a stitch of clothing between them.
"Mr. Wellington, it's such a shame we couldn't see Molly today," Mrs. Mario said warmly, making no effort to hide her eagerness. "Austin picked out so many gifts for her — he really wanted to hand them to her himself."
"Our Austin has always had his nose in his books his whole life. He'd blush just talking to a girl." Mario laughed and clapped his son on the shoulder. "But for Molly, he's finally come around. Ha!"
"Pfft—"
Debra couldn't hold it in. She laughed out loud.
The room went dead silent. The air turned thick with awkwardness.
The smiles froze on Mayor Mario and his wife's faces. Austin felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, terrified that Debra was about to lose it right here and blow everything wide open.
"Dad, I can vouch for that — Mayor Mario and Mrs. Mario aren't exaggerating one bit. Austin and I were schoolmates, and he really was exactly what they're saying — hardworking, decent, one of the top students."
Debra let her gaze drift over Austin's face, which had gone completely pale and stiff. "Austin and Molly are a perfect match. Couldn't be more suited for each other — they've known each other for years, and the families are on equal footing."
Patrick's lips pressed into a thin line, and the shadow that crossed his face was impossible to miss.
"We've already taken up enough of your time. We should get going." Mario read the room smoothly and rose to his feet with an easy smile.
"Mr. Wellington, once Molly's feeling better, let's set a time for both families to get together properly," Mrs. Mario added, the eagerness for this match barely concealed beneath her words.
Patrick cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "As you've both seen in the news recently, my daughter's condition right now..."
"Mr. Wellington," Mario cut in, adopting the warm, magnanimous air of a seasoned politician, "the fact that we came today should tell you everything — Molly's illness doesn't matter to us. Not at all."
He laughed openly. "My son has had feelings for Molly since their school days. Then he saw her again at the Alexander family's reception a while back, and he hasn't been able to get her out of his head. Austin adores that girl. Whatever you're worried about — it's simply not an issue for the Bishop family."
"And if you think about it," Mrs. Mario chimed in, "Austin and your daughter have practically grown up together. Childhood sweethearts, really!"
Debra bit back a sneer.
Childhood sweethearts, sure. Except back then, Austin had been hers — at her beck and call, completely under her thumb. Molly had nothing to do with it.
Patrick's brow finally eased a little after hearing all that.
After they left Riverside Villa, the Bishop family settled into their stretch limousine — Mario and his wife on one side, Austin facing them.
"Patrick seemed to like you well enough," Mario said, crossing his legs, his tone now relaxed and stripped of the warmth he'd shown at the Wellington house. "That unstable Molly is beneath you, obviously. But like you said — marry her, and the Wellington family's money becomes a serious asset for my campaign down the road."
Austin sat expressionless, his downcast eyes filled with resentment and a cold, calculating darkness.
Mario looked at his son's sullen face and let out a short, contemptuous laugh. "Her mental illness is actually an advantage, if you think about it. Saves you from having a wife who'll lord the Wellington name over you once she's in our house. Give it a few years — when her condition gets bad enough, you'll be her primary legal guardian. Whatever the Wellington trust has set aside for her will be yours to control entirely."
"Son, whether your father makes it to the next level in parliament — that's all riding on you," his mother added, eyes gleaming, barely able to contain her eagerness to lock this marriage in.
Austin turned to look out the window. Jessica's parting words — cold, calculated, ruthless — surfaced in his mind, and his eyes went flat and dark.
---
After the Bishops left, Debra — every bone in her body aching — was heading upstairs to sleep it off when Patrick's voice stopped her cold.
"How did you know ahead of time that the Marios were coming today to discuss a match between our families?"
The question hit her like a wall. For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Her mind scrambled furiously before she managed to stumble through an excuse. "Oh — ha, well, Dad, I mean, just looking at how eager they were — bringing their son, bringing gifts for Molly — anyone could see they were here to propose a match. But Dad... are you actually thinking of marrying Molly off to Austin?"
Patrick's sharp, hawk-like eyes narrowed, his gaze moving slowly over his daughter's face, unreadable.
"Molly and Eric — that's finished. My daughter isn't going to keep throwing herself at one man."
Debra had to fight to keep the gloating smile off her face.
"What I want to know," Patrick said, his jaw tightening, his voice dropping to something quiet and deadly, "is who's been working with the Clark Group behind my back to set my daughter up."
"I have never hated anything more than being stabbed in the back. When I find out who did it — and I will — I'll make sure they regret ever being born."
The satisfaction drained from Debra's face in an instant. Her breath caught. Her heart shot straight up into her throat.
In the suffocating silence that followed, steady, commanding footsteps sounded from outside the sitting room.
Then Edward walked in, pushing Byron in his wheelchair, with Tyler at his side — the three of them entering with an air that filled the room.
Edward's eyes locked onto Debra's face — pale, rigid, caught — and a cold smile curved at the corner of his mouth. But when he spoke, it was to Patrick:
"Rare, isn't it — this time, it seems the Chairman and I are in complete agreement about cleaning house."