Chapter 8

One month later, Wilbur thought he had successfully snatched the Nirvana project.

He couldn't wait to hold a grand press conference.

He was eager to announce to the world that the Chapman Group was back.

At the press conference, Wilbur stood confidently on stage.

Nora, dressed in a high-end gown, clung to his arm and smiled happily.

"Thank you, everyone, for being here today. I have great news for you. The Chapman Group has secured exclusive development rights for the Nirvana project. This will be a new milestone for the Chapman Group."

The audience erupted in applause.

Wilbur basked in the long-awaited glory.

His gaze scanned the crowd and was finally fixed on me in the corner.

He smugly raised his chin.

His eyes were clearly saying, "Alina, you lost."

After the press conference, a lavish banquet followed.

Wilbur held a wine glass and went straight towards me through the crowd.

He cornered me in the banquet hall.

The heavy velvet curtains behind me muffled the outside noise.

He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were hazy and fervent.

"Alina," he said, placing one hand against the wall to trap me between his body and the wall.

That familiar sense of oppression crept over me again.

If it were three years ago, I would have been trembling with fear.

But now, I just looked at him calmly, as if he were a clown.

"Congratulations, Mr. Chapman," I said, swirling the wine in my glass. "But are you sure you've won?"

Wilbur chuckled and leaned closer to my face. "Haven't you had enough fun? You stirred up such a ruckus just to make me regret it and get my attention? Admit it, Alina. You still have feelings for me. Otherwise, why would you deliberately leak such a lucrative project to me?"

He assumed that I had lingering affection for him and that it was proof of his charm.

"Alright. You've won." Wilbur reached out and attempted to touch my face.

His eyes were filled with patronizing affection. "For all your scheming, I forgive you. Now, come home with me. I'll deal with Nora. As long as you behave yourself well..."

Before his hand could touch my face, a strong hand firmly grasped his wrist.

A sharp crack echoed, and the sound of bones misaligning was clear.

"Ah!" Wilbur screamed as his wine glass fell and shattered on the floor.

Theo had appeared beside me before I knew it.

He gripped Wilbur's wrist tightly, and his gaze was cold when he looked at Wilbur as if the latter were a corpse. "Mr. Chapman," Theo said, "did you think you could touch my woman like that?"

I naturally linked my arm with Theo's and nestled into his embrace.

I smiled brightly at Wilbur, whose face was contorted in pain. I said, "Wilbur, did you misunderstand something? I gave you the project not out of love, but because..." I leaned closer and said in a voice only the three of us could hear, "that was your grave I prepared for you. The first lesson Theo taught me was that anything worthless should be thrown away. And you, along with your doomed project, are that trash."