Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 287: A large bait...

The assistant’s head snapped towards his boss, taking in the hard lines etched across Desmond's face. It wasn't

often that Rick saw his boss this tense, his usually calm demeanor riddled with traces of unease. A gnawing

sense of curiosity and concern crept into his thoughts.

"What exactly is happening?" Rick wondered silently. Desmond. Uf had been relentless these past few days,

hopping from city to city, meeting unseen faces in hidden places.

He had never seen Desmond like this—not even when the Allen board threatened his influence years ago. Rick

hadn’t been present the day Desmond visited Davis in the hospital, so the cause of this sudden anxiety

remained unknown to him. Still, his instincts screamed that something was unraveling fast.

Recalling his instructions on phone asking him to arrange a press conference and also to arrange a legal team,

his heart skipped a beat and his brow furrowed.

As if reflecting on his own uncertain future, Rick narrowed his eyes in quiet thought. "Will there be a power shift?

Is Davis regaining his strength or influence? Should | start preparing for the rainy days ahead? | have my family

to think about too. Maybe it’s best to stay silent and observe for now."

Lost in his musing, he barely noticed Desmond shift in his seat until his voice broke the silence.

"Rick, how many people arounddo you think are truly loyal to me?"

The question hit like a bolt of lightning. Rick’s ears tingled as if he had been physically struck. The question

wasn't just rhetorical; it was loaded and unnerving.

He hadn't expected this question, this concern—not now.

Only moments ago, he had been entertaining thoughts of planning for his own safety—probably securing a way

out for himself. Now Desmond was probing for loyalty when he hadn't even considered this issue.

Rick swallowed hard, trying to steady his nerves. His gaze flickering and unable to meet Desmond's eyes. He

forced a confident tone though it wavered ever so slightly. "Sir, | believe many people will stand with you. You've

been good to them."

Desmond nodded slowly, repeating the words, "You're right," he murmured though his expression betrayed a

lack of conviction. Deep down, even he doubted the extent of loyalty surrounding him. He wasn’t convinced he

had truly been good to them

Rick released a quiet breath, trying to calm his fraying nerves. But just as he began to relax, hoping that

moment had passed. Desmond spoke again, softer this time, yet every bit as piercing.

"Rick, are you loyal? Or should | say... will you remain loyal?"

Rick hadn't expected to be singled out. His heart pounded. It was a direct challenge, one that didn’t allow room

for half-truths or vague answers. He hesitated, nodded and finally managed, "Yes. | am and will be."

Though he uttered the words, his heart continued to thunder against his chest.

Desmond simply looked at him and then turned his head toward the front of the car. He had noticed the brief

hesitation, the slight tremble of his hand which is on the steering but then...

"Alright. Let's go inside." Desmond said, his voice revealing nothing of his true thoughts or intentions.

Without waiting for the door to be opened for him, a luxury he usually accepted, Desmond stepped out of the

car. Rick scrambled after him, following him toward the front door of the club while wondering again who his

boss was planning to meet.

For the past few days during their trips, Desmond had always asked him to wait outside while he met with

guests. It seemed today would be no different.

The Everett Nightclub gleamed with wealth and opulence. Commonly known across Country Y as a fortress for

the elite.

It was infamous for hosting deals that never saw the light of day. Its underground operations were rumored to

influence stock markets, elections, and even transcontinental treaties with a price tag.

A doorman approached. "Your membership card, Sir," he requested.

Rick watched as Desmond reached into his breast pocket and handed over a sleek, gold-trimmed card. The

doorman inspected it thoroughly before handing it back with a deep bow.

Taking one last breath, Desmond stepped inside, his face resolute. Rick followed behind him, his eyes darting

around as he took in the club’s arrangement and décor.

A tall man in a black suit approached them. Judging from the earpiece and measured steps, Rick guessed he was

security.

"Boss is waiting for you," the man said. Desmond nodded and followed him, his posture straight, his eyes

focused.

They passed through corridors alive with energy—throbbing music, bursts of laughter, clinking glasses, and

shadowy figures whispering in velvet booths. But the security man led them past all of it, toward the back halls

cloaked in darkness, where only dim wall lights offered direction.

Rick’s instincts stirred uneasily. He felt a wave of fear and unease sweep through him. Symbols lined the walls,

sancient, others occult.

Every single item seemed to be made from gold, and with the lighting, the entire space glimmered ominously.

Finally, they reached a wide hallway with many turns. Desmond's thoughts ran wild with the memory of past

mistakes, with Davis's nheavy on his tongue.

His senses heightened. Though skeptical about this trip, he had to take the risk. He had already made one

mistake. Now he had to fix it.

And this meeting? It was a gamble, one that could correct his failure or destroy him further.

His jaw clenched with one decision made.

Davis had to be erased. Only then coud he step into the power vacuum the Allen family had kept tightly sealed

for generations. There would be no compromise.

They stopped at a black double door etched with a strange logo that shimmered under the faint light. Rick, eyes

wide, remained outside as instructed. Desmond tapped lightly.

The door creaked open. He stepped in.

The room mirrored the hallway—dark, luxurious, and dangerous. A low fire burned behind thick glass. The scent

in the air was strange—spicy, warm, and dizzying. Desmond blinked rapidly.

"Am | drugged?" he thought, trying to shake off the fog seeping into his limbs. He saw no incense, no smoke, no

drink.

A voice, old and low, sliced through the silence. "You are welcome."

Desmond blinked again. His eyes adjusted, and finally, he saw the figure across the room. A man seated in a

high-backed chair, dressed in grey robes, his face half-hidden in the shadows.

"What is it you want that made you seekout?" the man asked.

Desmond steadied his breath. "I cwith a proposal. Cooperation. Advancement."

The man tilted his head, his eyes glinting like a hawk. "And what do | stand to gain?"

Desmond hesitated. This was the moment.

"If you help me... if you assist in removing the shares from the old man’s hands, then you will becthe

highest shareholder of the Allen Empire."

The man murmured, "That is a large bait."

He knew it wouldn't be easy. The patriarch of the Allen family was sentimental, stubborn, and sharp but mildly he

is a shrew. He doubts if those shares are still in his hands.

But Desmond no longer cared how it would be done. The tfor diplomacy had passed. If he couldn't be

accepted into the family, then he would tear it down and rebuild it in his own image.

Their discussion continued for hours. As they carefully plotted out the best Strategies, names and timelines.

By the tDesmond left the club, the weight in his chest had lessened. He had planted the seeds of

destruction.

~Ravendale’s estate~

The Ravendale estate was

breathtaking in the moonlight. White

mansions stood preudy against

emeraliNewng. The air was scented

with blooming roses and jasmine, but

in one of the private studies, the

temperature was anything but sweet.

Elliot Ravendale sat behind a

massive mahogany desk, oh

tight, his gaze figida(Subbr inate

stoad are him, stiff and silent,

bracing for whatever storm might

come. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

In his hand, Elliot swirled a glass of

q ) q q

red wine but hadn't taken a 8 ff

mind was on the.myséabehe ad

Ao re) Desmond had sought

the destruction of the Allen family

and worse, he had found an ally. The

content is on novelenglish.net! Read

the latest chapter there!

"What was the response?" Elliot asked.

"He accepted the cooperation," the subordinate said quietly.

Fiercely, he hauled the glass to the wall as it shattered.

Wine sprayed across the floor, a deep red like blood. The subordinate flinched and stepped back immediately,

sweat beading on his brow.

Elliot leaned back slowly, his expression calmer now but far more dangerous.

"Tighten the security around Davis. If anything happens to him... | will take your life for it."

"On it, sir."

The moment the man left the study, Elliot reached for his private phone and dialed a secure line. It rang once.

"Godfather," a soft, teasing voice answered. "Never thought you still remember you have a goddaughter."

"Jessica," Elliot chuckled. "I've been... a little busy. How are you?"

They exchanged light banter, but soon his voice grew grave.

"You have to work up something."

"Alright," Jessica responded. "I'll take a look. Anyone in particular?"

"Your husband," Elliot said.

Silence. Then a quiet chuckle.

"Don’t worry, Dad," she said, voice low and dangerous. "I'll handle it."