Chapter 271: Destroy Ex-Wife’s Love Once Again

Chapter 271: Destroy Ex-Wife’s Love Once Again
Dorian's POV

I stood by the towering window of Ravencroft Manor’s opulent living room, the kind of place that screamed “I’m rich” but whispered “I’m empty.” Outside, Charlotte’s sleek black Audi rolled into the circular driveway, tires crunching on gravel. Perfect stage for today’s twisted little charade.

I straightened up, plastering on my most disarming grin as she stepped in. “Charlotte, welcome to my humble abode,” I said, sweeping an arm toward the room. “Make yourself at home. Earl Grey or French press coffee? I’ve got the good shit.”

Her eyes flicked around, calculating every damn detail, before she perched on the edge of my imported Italian leather sofa. “Earl Grey, thanks,” she replied, voice smooth as silk.

“Coming right up,” I smirked, heading off to handle the tea myself. No staff for this—I wanted control over every detail.

When I returned with the silver tray, I caught her eyeing the abstract painting on the far wall—crimson slashes on midnight blue, raw violence trapped in a gilded frame. “Like the art?” I asked, setting the tray down with a clink.

She flinched, just a hair. “It’s... intense as hell.”

“Snagged it at a private showing last year,” I said, handing her a delicate porcelain cup. “My favorite in the collection. Guess I’ve got a thing for chaos.” I flashed a grin.

Charlotte sipped, leaving a perfect lipstick mark on the rim. “Didn’t peg you for an artsy type, Dorian,” she quipped, a barb wrapped in honey.

Sweetheart. I kept the smile. “There’s a lot of shit people don’t know about me.”

I dropped into the armchair across from her, fingers tapping the armrest. Something had been gnawing at me for days, a goddamn itch I couldn’t scratch. “So, about Seraphina,” I started, keeping my tone light as air. “Haven’t heard from her lately. What’s the deal?”

Her face stayed neutral, but a flicker—satisfaction, maybe?—flashed in her eyes. “You didn’t hear? She’s in the hospital.” Her voice was flat, like she was reading a weather report.

The teacup nearly slipped from my grip. “What the fuck?” Hospitalized? My brain spun through the possibilities—and the goddamn opportunities. “What happened?”

Charlotte’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. “There was a fire. At our villa.” She watched me like a hawk, gauging every damn reaction.

I set my cup down, steady as I could manage. “A fire? How the hell did that happen?”

Her smirk grew. “My mother arranged it, actually. Though I probably shouldn’t spill that little tidbit.” She leaned back, crossing her legs like she’d just dropped a casual bombshell.

Holy shit. I didn’t expect her to just lay it out like that. Either she trusted me way too much, or—more likely—she was testing my ass. I leaned back, feigning cool curiosity. “Damn, that’s... unfortunate she made it out alive.” The words slipped before I could stop them. I quickly tacked on, “I mean, for you. Wasn’t the whole point to clear your path to Leander?”

Her eyes narrowed, just a fraction. I pushed harder. “And hell, it would’ve solved one of my headaches too. One less pain in my ass to deal with.”

I stood, strolling to the bar cart and pouring a finger of scotch. “Ravencroft Group’s in deep shit. Financially fucked,” I admitted, swirling the amber liquid before turning to her. “The board’s up my ass, and Seraphina’s got the majority stake. It’s a goddamn nightmare.”

Charlotte set her cup down with surgical precision. “The fire didn’t fix your problem, Dorian. Or mine.” She rose, gliding to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the manicured gardens, her posture stiff as a board. “Leander’s guarding her like an attack dog now.”

I watched her silhouette against the fading afternoon light. “You’d better watch your back,” she warned, voice low. “Leander plays the gentleman, but he’s a ruthless bastard in business. He doesn’t tolerate threats to what’s his.”

“And Seraphina’s his now?” I couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice.

She turned, locking eyes with me. “After this, he’ll be hunting for someone to blame. Someone to destroy.”

I downed the scotch, savoring the burn. “What if I told you there’s a way we both get what we want?” I dangled the bait.

Her brow arched. “I’m all ears.”

I set the glass down. “The Whitmore family could step in, ‘help’ Ravencroft Group—call it a goodwill gesture for Seraphina after her... tragic little accident.” I smirked. “It eases my financial shitstorm, and gives you an in with Leander.”

“How exactly?” Her tone dripped with suspicion.

“Simple,” I shrugged. “Your family offers a partnership to save Ravencroft from collapse. You oversee it personally, get cozy in Leander’s orbit. Play the concerned friend, protecting Seraphina’s interests while she’s down for the count.”

She scoffed. “You think Leander won’t see through that? After we just tried to torch his precious Seraphina?”

“He doesn’t know for sure,” I shot back. “Timing’s everything. While she’s weak, vulnerable, you swoop in as her savior. Make him see you as indispensable.”

Her eyes glinted, gears turning. “And you? What’s your endgame?”

“Survival. And control,” I said, raw. “Ravencroft Group is mine—always should’ve been. This little alliance buys me time to lock that shit down.”

Charlotte paced across the marble floor. “If I pitch this to my family, I’ll need guarantees. This is a big investment.”

“Name your terms,” I nodded. “I’m ready to play ball.”

She stopped, staring me down. “And you’re fine with Seraphina getting all the credit for saving your sorry ass? Building her up even more?”

I smirked thinly. “I can choke down my pride when I have to. Ravencroft’s in crisis. I’m not letting ego fuck this up.”

I stepped closer, voice dropping. “Think about it, Charlotte. With Seraphina out of commission, you’ve got a shot to get tight with Leander. Show him the real you—the woman ‘helping’ his darling in her time of need.”

Silence hung heavy, broken only by the tick of the antique grandfather clock. Finally, she grabbed her purse. “I’ll think it over, Dorian.”

I escorted her to the door, all polished courtesy. “That’s all I ask.”

As the oak door slammed shut, a sly grin crept across my face. Charlotte might think she’s playing me, but I’m always three goddamn steps ahead. We’re both snakes in this den, ready to strike for our own gain—and fuck anyone who gets in the way.