Chapter 261: Her Child Must Die?
Chapter 261: Her Child Must Die?
Dorian's POV
“Seraphina Calloway’s a pro at taking what doesn’t belong to her.” I raked a hand through my hair, lacing my tone with just enough despair to sell it. “Sometimes, I think about just ending it, you know? She stripped me bare—my company, my pride, even my little girl…”
Her eyes widened, shock cutting through her anger. “Your daughter?”
I turned away, letting the fake pain weigh on my shoulders. “Isolde. My baby girl. Died of bone cancer. And even while we were living that hell, Seraphina was scheming, twisting my grandfather’s arm to hand her Ravencroft Group.” The lie slipped out smooth, woven with enough truth to make it sting.
“That’s fucking vile,” Charlotte whispered, her own heartbreak drowned out by my fabricated tragedy.
I stared at the rain pounding the windows, keeping my voice low. “You should change out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia. Heater’s on, but you’re soaked to the bone.”
She pulled the throw tighter around herself, shivering—whether from the cold or pure rage, I couldn’t tell. “I can’t believe Leander bought her bullshit. The Whitmores and Kingsleys go way back, generations deep. We were damn near engaged!”
I watched a vein throb in her temple, hatred festering in her gaze, dark and vicious. Perfect.
“That’s Seraphina’s gift,” I said, voice quiet but heavy. “She makes men forget their duties, their families, their fucking sense. She made me forget mine once.”
Charlotte’s fingers clawed into the cashmere blanket. “I’ll never forgive her. Never.”
I let a small, broken smile tug at my lips. “Anger’s natural. I’ve been drowning in it for months.” I paused, baiting her. “But it doesn’t change shit. She’s still winning.”
“I’m not gonna sit here while she flaunts my man like a goddamn trophy,” Charlotte spat, venom dripping from every word. “Someone needs to rip the mask off that bitch.”
I caught her eyes in the rearview mirror, holding her gaze with a charged intensity. “What if… we could do more than just expose her?”
Her brows knit, suspicion flickering. “What the hell do you mean?”
I leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What if we teamed up to take back what’s ours?”
Charlotte sat up straighter, suddenly sharp despite looking like a drowned rat. “I’m all ears.”
I laid out the plan with surgical precision, watching her drink in every word. “Seraphina’s got two pillars propping up her perfect little life: Ravencroft Group and Leander Kingsley. We’re gonna knock ‘em both down.”
“How?” Her tone was hungry, eager for blood.
“You’re a Whitmore. Your family’s got ties to the Kingsleys going back decades. Use that. Sow doubt. Remind them Seraphina’s nothing but a gold-digging leech who’s already stolen one empire.”
She nodded slowly, gears turning in her head. “I can talk to Leander’s mother. Helena hates outsiders. And the Kingsley board—half of ‘em are family friends.”
“Exactly,” I pressed, fueling her fire. “Meanwhile, I’ll stir shit up inside Ravencroft. Create some internal fuck-ups. Keep Seraphina so busy dousing flames she won’t see what’s coming.”
“And Leander? He’s completely pussy-whipped by her.”
I shrugged, a smirk playing on my lips. “Guys get bored fast when their pregnant girlfriend’s drowning in scandal and corporate bullshit.”
Charlotte’s mouth curled into a frigid, cruel smile. “So we make her life a living hell from every angle until Leander’s sick of the drama.”
“That’s the play.”
Her jaw set, determination carving her features into stone. “I’ll do whatever it takes. That bitch deserves every ounce of misery we can throw at her.”
I squeezed her hand, faking compassion while relishing the ice in her touch. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. You need rest.”
“Thanks, Dorian,” she said, her desperate gratitude almost pathetic. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t picked me up tonight.”
I flashed a warm smile, hiding the cold calculation beneath. “Sometimes fate puts the right players on the same team at the perfect moment.”
---
Five days later, I lounged in a private room at The Ascend Society, swirling cognac in a crystal glass while Charlotte paced like a caged animal. In less than a week, she’d morphed from a sobbing wreck into a vengeance-driven machine.
And holy shit, she’d delivered. Three Ravencroft board members had called emergency meetings after “anonymous concerns” about leadership hit their desks. Stocks dipped two points on whispers of “instability at the top.”
“You said we were targeting Seraphina,” Charlotte snapped, slamming her water glass down so hard it sloshed over the edge. “But it looks like you’re torching the whole fucking company just to screw her over.”
I raised a brow, cool as ice. “Watch the accusations, Charlotte. We’re on the same damn side, remember?”
“Are we? ‘Cause I’m starting to wonder what your real game is, Dorian.” She stepped closer, eyes slits of suspicion. “You’re using me as a fucking pawn while you play your own angles with the Kingsleys.”
I stood, looming over her, voice hard. “Calm the hell down and remember who you’re talking to. Everything I’ve done is to drag Seraphina’s true colors into the light.”
She didn’t flinch. “Then why keep me in the dark? Why feed me scraps instead of the whole damn plan?”
“Because the less you know, the more real your moves look,” I lied, smooth as silk. “If anyone sniffed out we’re working together—”
“Save the bullshit,” she cut in, sharp. “I’m not an idiot, Dorian. You’re playing me just like you say Seraphina played you.”
I forced a dry laugh. “Paranoia’s not a good look on you. Seraphina’s the enemy, not me. She’s the one about to marry Leander, pop out his kid, while you’re left with jack shit.”
Her face darkened, rage flaring at the reminder. “She doesn’t deserve a damn thing. Not Leander, not the baby, not a second of happiness.”
I saw something lethal spark in her eyes, cold and unhinged.
“You know, Dorian,” she said, her voice dropping to an eerie calm as she toyed with her glass, “I’ve been thinking about what you said about your daughter. How Seraphina schemed while Isolde was dying. Wouldn’t it be fitting if history repeated itself? If she lost this baby too?”
A chill sliced through me, sharp and unexpected. I’d meant to use Charlotte to fuck with Seraphina’s world—corporate chaos, maybe split her from Leander. But threatening an unborn kid? My mind flickered to Isolde’s frail face, a memory I’d buried deep.
“What exactly are you getting at?” I kept my tone flat, hiding the weird knot in my chest.
Charlotte shrugged, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “Just saying, karma’s a bitch. Wouldn’t it be poetic if Seraphina felt the same gut-punch she dealt you?”
Her words hung heavy, a line I hadn’t planned to cross. I’d built this monster, aimed her at Seraphina, but now she was spiraling into darker territory than I’d anticipated. I wanted to ruin Seraphina’s life, reclaim my company, shatter her heart. But another dead child? That hit a nerve I didn’t expect to feel.