Chapter 3

I didn’t go to the basement. I walked right out of the building.

Night was falling, but I’d lost my appetite for dinner.

I sat in a private, members-only antique bookshop until midnight.

Around dawn, I got a call from Stephen’s father.

Alistair, the eleventh-generation head of the Blackwood family.

A slick, phony, useless man who was only good at maintaining the status quo.

The moment I answered, I heard his nervous cough.

“Ms. Yvette, is this a good time to talk?”

“Speak.” I turned a page of a yellowed tome.

Alistair sighed, his voice testing the waters.

“Stephen and Victoria… those two kids are just so out of line.”

“I heard about what happened this morning. It’s ridiculous!”

He sounded angry, but his words had no bite.

“But you know, I’ve already handed over the reins. Stephen runs the show now.”

“That boy grew up in the modern business world. His head is full of that Wall Street stuff. He… he lacks respect for our family’s ancient vows.”

I leaned back in the velvet armchair, watching the New York neon outside.

“And?”

My cold tone stopped him short. He paused for a few seconds before forcing himself to continue.

“What I mean is, the board is full of his young guns now.”

“They’re really not happy about you taking such a large portion of the net profit each year.”

“So, how about this?”

He finally showed his true colors.

“Could you just… compromise a little? Take a step back.”

“We lower the tribute to ten percent. And I’ll have a new office set up for you on the floor just below the penthouse.”

“We both give a little. No need to make things ugly. What do you say?”

I couldn’t help it. I let out a cold laugh.

“Alistair, are you negotiating with me?”

The other end of the line went dead silent.

“When your father was dying, and the entire company was facing a hostile takeover…”

“Who was it that used their ancient European allies to bail you out of that mess?”

My voice was soft, but it carried weight.

“And now that you’re back on your feet, on the foundation I built, you think you can just kick me to the curb?”

Alistair was panicking now, his voice stammering.

“No, no, Ms. Yvette, that’s not what I meant at all.”

“I’m just… just trying to find a compromise.”

“Shut up.”

I cut him off, my voice hard.

“I’ve lived a long time. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned to hate, it’s compromise.”

“What is mine is mine. Down to the last cent.”

“Since you all think I’m a parasite, then we’ll see.”

With that, I hung up. Mercilessly.

Near dawn, I returned to the Blackwood estate, my home for generations. I found all my personal belongings packed in boxes and thrown onto the lawn.

Victoria was in the living room, lounging in a silk robe, sipping champagne.

She didn’t even look up when I walked in.

“Yvette, so sorry about this.”

“Stephen and I are getting engaged next month. We’re renovating the estate to be our marital home.”

“Your junk was taking up too much space, so I had it cleared out for you.”

She swirled her glass, her tone light and airy.

“But don’t worry. Stephen rented a studio for you in Brooklyn.”

“It’s a nice, quiet area. Perfect for a light-sensitive old relic like you.”

I looked at the boxes on the lawn. They’d been handled roughly.

Inside were my collection of rare first editions and priceless paintings, gathered over centuries.

Some of the book corners and canvases were crudely torn.

“Who gave you the nerve to touch my things?”

I flashed in front of the sofa, towering over her.

The ghostly speed startled her. She shrank back instinctively.

But she quickly forced herself to stand up.

“So what if I touched them?”

“This estate is Blackwood property. You’ve been squatting here for centuries. It’s about time you were kicked out.”

“Yvette, don’t push your luck.”

She pointed a finger with a freshly painted red nail, almost touching my nose.

“What can you even do? Besides wave around some mysterious piece of paper and play god?”

“Even if you brought God himself down here today, you’re still getting the hell out!”

I looked at her face, twisted with jealousy.

I felt no anger. Only amusement.

Mortal stupidity. Truly a terminal disease.

I tilted my head slightly, avoiding her tacky finger.

“You don’t have to kick me out. I’ll leave.”

I took out my phone and dialed a private number.

In less than ten minutes, two custom black Rolls-Royce Phantoms glided silently to the front gate.

Several men in black suits, moving like ghosts, entered and respectfully began loading my things into the cars.

Victoria stared at the two luxury cars with their special license plates, her face stiffening.

But she quickly covered it with a sneer.

“Playing billionaire? You probably rented those with our money. All those years of bloodsucking, and you waste it all on show.”

I ignored her bitter words and walked to the car door.

Before getting in, I stopped. I turned back and locked my crimson eyes on hers.

“Victoria, remember everything you did today.”

“I will make your entire family pay for it. With interest.”