Roselle's POV
After that little performance, I stepped out of the lounge, the echo of my heels tapping against the marble floor like a ticking clock counting down Abigail's final moments of dignity.
Kaisel waited by the car, silent as always, but his eyes flicked toward me with that unreadable look. Respect? Amusement? Maybe both.
"She didn't say a word?" he asked as he opened the door.
I slid into the backseat, my lips curling into a satisfied smile. "What could she possibly say, Kaisel? Truths burn louder than any scream."
The car pulled off into the night, the city lights dancing against the tinted windows. I took another sip of my whiskey from the crystal glass I kept in the car's mini-bar.
"You think she'll fall for the bait?" Kaisel asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
"She already has," I replied coolly. "Abigail Bardot is spiraling. After Samuel faked his death, she needed something to latch onto. She grabbed the first snake she could find—Joshua Leinin. What a poetic match: a woman with no loyalty, and a man with no spine."
Kaisel chuckled under his breath. "You really think Joanna will go through with our little deal?"
"Everyone has a price, Kaisel." I stared out at the skyline, my voice sharp. "And in Joanna's case, it wasn't just money—it was finally seeing her brother humiliated. I gave her a stage. Now I want to see the whole act."
There was a moment of silence as we drove. Then Kaisel asked the one thing I had been waiting for.
"And Samuel?"
I didn't answer immediately. My fingers traced the rim of the glass, lost in thought. That name always brought something heavy, something dangerous in my chest.
"He's not dead," I finally said. "You know that. I know that. But the world doesn't… yet."
Kaisel nodded. He didn't push.
"Heavenly Demon or not, the man was fire incarnate. And if he's truly back, Abigail's story hasn't ended… it's only just beginning. With blood, regret, and one name carved into the ashes—Samuel Gebb."
As the car disappeared into the shadows of the city, I leaned back in my seat, eyes closing briefly.
Let the world turn.
Let the stories clash.
Because the next time Roselle Vasilyev and Samuel Gebb meet...
It won't be for war.
It'll be for destiny.
________________________________________
Location: Bardot Industries – Abigail's Private Office
Time: Late Afternoon
The golden hue of the sun filtered through the large tinted windows of Abigail Bardot's lavish office, casting long shadows over the sleek furniture and polished marble floor. Abigail sat behind her massive desk, perfectly poised in a designer pantsuit, a crystal glass of scotch in her hand as she flipped through reports with a mildly irritated expression.
Then came the knock.
"Come in," she said coldly.
The door opened to reveal Joanna Leinin, dressed modestly, her movements quiet but deliberate. She held a neatly prepared folder in her hand, her expression unreadable.
Abigail barely looked up.
"Joanna. You're late."
"Apologies," Joanna said softly. "I had to double-check a few details before presenting the documents."
"I don't have all day," Abigail replied, waving her hand. "Whatever it is, just tell me."
Joanna approached the desk and placed the folder in front of her. "It's regarding a new international venture. Roselle Vasilyev showed interest in collaborating with Bardot Industries on a logistics expansion through Eastern Europe. These are the preliminary agreements and investment protocols."
Abigail's eyes lifted slightly at the mention of Roselle Vasilyev.
"Roselle? Why would she want to do business with me now?"
Joanna kept her tone calm and respectful. "She's impressed with your recent moves in the Eastern sectors. Apparently, she wants to extend a hand… discreetly."
Abigail hesitated. She didn't trust Roselle, but the idea of such a powerful woman acknowledging her strength stirred her pride. She opened the folder and skimmed through the dense legal text.
"It all looks standard," she muttered. "Signatures required?"
Joanna nodded. "Just yours. Once signed, I'll send it to Roselle's legal team. She insisted it be handled today before midnight to avoid any interference from third parties."
Abigail, proud and always eager to prove herself superior, didn't think twice.
"Fine."
She pulled out her signature pen, elegantly clicking it, and without reading too deeply, scribbled her name at the bottom of the key pages. The bold "Abigail Bardot" inked itself into legal reality.
Joanna remained composed, though inside her heart pounded. When Abigail finally slid the folder back across the desk, Joanna took it with steady hands.
"I'll courier it personally," she said.
Abigail took a sip of her scotch, already moving on in her mind.
"Make sure Vasilyev knows I'm not someone to underestimate."
Joanna turned, her face remaining neutral as she walked toward the door.
Just as her hand reached for the handle, Abigail called after her.
"Joanna?"
She stopped but didn't turn around. "Yes?"
"Your brother's really pushing his luck with me. Tell him if he screws up one more deal, he'll be out."
Joanna paused, then turned her head slightly. "Of course. I'll let him know."
She stepped out of the office and closed the door gently behind her. The moment she was in the hallway, she leaned against the wall for a second, exhaling slowly.
She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
"It's done," she said quietly.
Roselle's voice crackled through the line, sharp and satisfied.
"Good girl. I hope you understand now… power doesn't lie in blood. It lies in control."
Joanna didn't respond. She just walked toward the elevator, her heels echoing through the corridor.
Behind her, in that pristine office, Abigail Bardot had just signed away the one thing she swore never to lose:
Control.