Chapter 165
Orion
The drive home from Aveline's house was pure euphoria.
I couldn't stop replaying every detail of the evening—the way she'd tried to look fierce and intimidating while scolding me about the auction, the adorable way she'd pinched my thigh under the dinner table when I'd made jokes about her grandmother's cooking, pretending to be annoyed while fighting back a smile. Even when she'd glared at me and declared that I was "impossible to deal with," her eyes had been sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like affection.
Nothing could dampen my mood tonight. Not even the memory of Charles Ashford's face when I'd effectively declared war on his family in front of half of Manhattan's elite.
The painting itself? I hadn't even glanced at it once since the auction ended. But its value far exceeded ten million dollars—after all, the benefits of driving Charles and my uncle out of the company would be worth hundreds of millions in the long run. Tonight had simply been the opening move in a much larger game.
Let them scramble, I thought with satisfaction. Let them think they caught me off guard.
By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was practically humming. I expected to find the usual welcoming committee—Mitchell greeting me with some dry comment about my evening, Ryan bounding down the stairs to ask about his teacher.
But the house was unnaturally quiet.
Only the soft glow from the living room suggested anyone was home. I found Grandfather sitting alone in his favorite leather chair, his usually immaculate appearance somehow deflated. Gone was his typical mischievous energy, replaced by something that looked distinctly like worry.
When he saw me scanning the room, clearly looking for the rest of the household, he sighed heavily.
"I sent Mitchell to keep Ryan company in his room," he said without his usual humor. "I thought it best if it was just the two of us for this conversation."
I shrugged off my jacket and kicked off my dress shoes, replacing them with comfortable slippers. The routine felt strange in the heavy atmosphere Grandfather had created.
"You know about tonight?" I asked with a smile, settling into the chair across from him.
"Oh, I know alright," Bryce said, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic note of despair. "If I'd had any idea you'd pull something like this, I never would have let you set foot in that auction house! Do you have any idea what you've done?"
I raised an eyebrow with mock curiosity. "What did I do? I bought a painting."
Grandfather shot to his feet, his composure finally cracking. "I know you have feelings for Ryan's teacher! But this kind of behavior—this complete lack of strategic thinking—it's going to destroy you! Right now, Charles and your uncle are probably locked in some room plotting exactly how to remove you from the CEO position!"
I calmly stood and poured him a glass of water from the side table, extending it toward him with an amused expression.
"You're overthinking this, Grandfather," I said with a laugh. "They were already conspiring against me. Charles has been bleeding our company dry to fund his own operations for years—did you really think marrying his daughter would change that? All a merger would have done is bury the parasite deeper and delay the inevitable explosion. At least now we're fighting in the open."
Grandfather reluctantly accepted the water, taking a long sip before shaking his head.
"But you have to think strategically! Plan these things carefully!"
"Tonight wasn't just about declaring war," I said, settling back into my chair with obvious satisfaction. "I also secured myself a very valuable ally."
"That teacher?" Grandfather's voice carried a note of skepticism. "She might have some money, but how can that possibly compare to real corporate power?"
I smiled, allowing the moment to build before delivering my revelation. "What if I told you she's not just friends with Laurent from Laurent Atelier—she's his business partner? They built one of Europe's most exclusive luxury brands together, and they're rapidly expanding into the New York market as we speak."
The transformation in Grandfather's expression was immediate and dramatic. His mouth actually fell open as he processed this information.
"Are you serious? Laurent Atelier—the company that has celebrities and European royalty on waiting lists for months? Word is Laurent's just the pretty face, and there's some mystery genius pulling the strings behind the scenes."
I nodded, unable to suppress my triumphant grin. "Completely serious. I've spent months observing her. Every piece of jewelry she wears is from their collection, she has an intimate knowledge of their design process, and her attitude toward Laurent isn't that of a client or even a friend—she talks to him like she's his boss."
Grandfather sank back into his chair, his mind clearly racing through the implications.
"If that's true, their company's influence rivals Charles's corporation. Maybe even exceeds it, given their growth potential and international connections."
I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the shift in his demeanor from panic to grudging admiration.
"Now can you put away that terrified expression?" I said with deliberate arrogance. "Your grandson became CEO based on merit, not luck. Otherwise, do you think my uncle would have tolerated my presence for all these years?"
Grandfather's lips curved into the first genuine smile I'd seen from him all evening.
"Well," he said, raising his water glass in a mock toast, "I suppose I should prepare myself for the entertainment of watching your next moves in this war. Good night, Orion."
As he headed toward the door, he paused and turned back with something approaching his usual mischievous glint.
"Just try not to burn down the entire city while you're conquering it."