Chapter 5. Satisfaction

“Since when did you learn to stab your own father in the back, Lyra?” Damian Cullen said, fixing his only daughter with an intense stare.

On his mahogany desk lay a tablet with its screen still glowing, displaying a business headline that felt to Damian like a slap across the face.

“Kenzo Alberto and Cullen heiress announce engagement.”

“Answer me!” Damian rose to his feet, moving slowly like a man restraining himself from exploding.

Lyra stood frozen in the middle of the room. The pale yellow desk lamp made her face look older than her years. She hated how cold her hands felt, but she refused to let the tremor show.

“I didn’t stab you in the back, Father.” Lyra repeated the sentence flatly, almost like a murmur. She even dared to look him straight in the eye.

“I prefer to call it saving myself.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Lyra!” Damian growled, gripping the edge of the mahogany desk so hard it creaked beneath his hands.

“Two days ago you were curled up in your room, crying over that useless bastard like the world had ended. And now? You’re all over the business headlines with your hand wrapped around Kenzo Alberto’s arm. God… why do I have a daughter like you?” Damian muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He stepped closer, his breathing growing heavier. “Do you know who he is? He’s not a man you can play with, Lyra.”

Lyra clenched the folds of her skirt, trying to absorb the cold sweat dampening her fingers. She knew her father could smell fear from a mile away, so she forced her spine to remain straight.

“I love him. I want to marry Kenzo Alberto, and I don’t think he’s that bad.”

Damian froze. He released the desk. His eyes narrowed, searching for a lie behind his daughter’s gaze.

“Love? You’ve known him for a matter of hours after Hans dumped you. You expect me to believe that?”

“Kenzo gives me what no other man could,” Lyra shot back quickly. “He gives me security. He makes me feel valuable again. Is it wrong if I choose the most powerful man in this city to be my husband?”

Damian did not care about love, but he understood numbers. And from a business standpoint, this alliance was too tempting to refuse.

“Turns out heartbreak can turn someone into a genius overnight,” Damian muttered, exhaling a thick cloud of cigar smoke toward Lyra.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll throw a party tonight. We’ll give Hans a front row seat to learn what it feels like to be stuck in the very back.”

“That sounds perfect, Father.”

Three hours later, the Cullen mansion looked like a circus for the elite. Thousands of white lilies had been forced into every corner of the grand hall until their fragrance became suffocating.

Amid the clinking of crystal glasses and the hollow laughter of ministers, the atmosphere simmered with gossip. Everyone pretended to be busy with their champagne, yet their eyes greedily stripped every guest, sniffing for the next scandal to turn into tomorrow morning’s conversation.

Lyra stood at the top of the staircase, motionless. The blood red gown wrapped around her body felt foreign, as if the color itself were trying to swallow her pale skin.

Silver threads stitched into the fabric shimmered coldly beneath the crystal chandeliers. Lyra knew the price of the dress clinging to her skin tonight was enough to send Hans’s family begging in the streets.

She drew a slow breath, feeling the tightness in her chest. Not from the corset that cinched her waist too tightly, but from the realization that from this moment on, she was nothing more than an expensive pawn in her own game.

“Breathe, Lyra. You’re going to faint before you even touch the floor if you keep holding it like that.”

The voice came with a heavy masculine scent. Kenzo Alberto was already standing beside her.

He did not look like a groom. He looked like a predator who had just finished showering and slipped into a tuxedo. His hands rested in his trouser pockets, his shoulders relaxed, as if he were the sole owner of the building.

“That’s exactly my intention,” Lyra replied shortly. She refused to look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on the crowd below, who looked like starving ants.

“I want them to be afraid when they see me.”

Kenzo chuckled, a low sound that vibrated the air between them. He stepped closer, letting his lips hover near her ear.

“Good. I like the way you look at them. Sharp, full of hatred, and not a trace of tears left. Don’t blink, all right?”

Their footsteps on the wooden stairs triggered a chain reaction. One by one, heads tilted upward. The socialites’ laughter faded, replaced by restrained whispers. Lyra could feel their stares piercing her skin, probing, judging, hungry for gossip.

Yet the pressure of Kenzo’s hand at her waist gave her a strange sense of security, as if a glass wall separated her from the crowd.

Near the bar, Hans looked like a man who had just been slapped. He stood stiffly, gripping a champagne glass so tightly that the liquid spilled over, soaking the cuff of his white shirt.

Hans did not even notice the stain on his expensive shirt. His eyes were locked on Lyra, sweeping over her gown, the necklace around her neck, then stopping squarely on Kenzo’s face.

Hans looked small. Very small in the midst of all this grandeur.

“Focus on your target, Lyra,” Kenzo whispered without changing his cold expression.

“He looks so pale,” Lyra murmured. A bitter satisfaction stirred in her chest. “Like he’s just seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost.” Kenzo adjusted his stance so he stood closer to Lyra, an intentional display of possession.

“He just realized he threw away the most valuable lottery ticket of his life.”

Lyra’s heel had barely touched the marble floor when her father emerged from the crowd. Damian Cullen was not merely smiling, he looked like a man who had just won the largest contract in his company’s history. He embraced Kenzo, a strange sight, watching two men who usually sought to undermine each other now act like old friends.

“Magnificent evening, Kenzo. Absolutely magnificent,” Damian said, his voice heavy with satisfaction.

“Only the best for Lyra, Damian,” Kenzo replied. His tone was flat, but his eyes were cold, as though he were silently mocking the hypocrisy before him.

Then the chaos arrived. Hans pushed through the crowd, his face no longer pale but flushed red with alcohol and anger.

Beneath the expensive chandeliers, Hans’s suit, usually sharp and impressive, now looked wrinkled, as though it had forced its way into the wrong room.

“Lyra!” he shouted, making several nearby guests flinch.

Kenzo did not move. His hand tightened around Lyra’s waist, a calm yet lethal claim.

“Hans, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Lyra said softly, almost casually.

“You’re engaged to him? Are you insane?” Hans pointed at Kenzo with a violently trembling finger.

He laughed, the sound almost unhinged. “Two weeks ago you were curled up on the floor of my apartment, Lyra. Crying, begging me not to leave. And now what? You’re just something this Alberto bought?”

The hall fell into a painful silence. Whispers spread like fire.

“Lower your finger, Hans. Before you lose that hand,” Kenzo interjected quietly, yet it was enough to make those nearby hold their breath.

“You want to talk about reality, Hans?” Lyra stepped forward. She slipped free from Kenzo’s hold and stood very close to Hans. “Let’s talk about reality.”

“The reality is you’re just trying to get back at me!” Hans scoffed.

“An hour ago, I signed an important document,” Lyra said. Her voice was clear. Everyone could hear her.

“I unilaterally terminated all vendor contracts between the Hans family and Cullen Group.”

Hans went rigid. The smirk vanished from his face. “You’re lying. Your father would never agree. There are massive penalties.”

“The penalties were paid in cash by Alberto ten minutes ago,” Lyra cut in coldly. “Right now, your father is outside. He’s trying to call the bank before all your assets are seized tomorrow morning. You just bankrupted your family, Hans.”

Hans swayed. He glanced toward the corner of the hall. His father stood there, speaking frantically into his phone, his face stricken with panic.

“You destroyed my family over this?” Hans muttered weakly.

“I didn’t destroy it,” Lyra replied. “You did, the moment you turned me into a wager in your foolish game.”

Lyra turned away. She did not want to see his face anymore. Kenzo stepped forward and took Lyra’s right hand. He pulled a small box from his pocket. Inside lay a rare blue diamond of absurd value.

“Starting tonight, Lyra Cullen belongs to Alberto,” Kenzo declared firmly. He slid the ring onto her ring finger.

Two large men approached Hans. They wore Alberto security uniforms. Without much discussion, they seized Hans’s arms roughly.

“Let me go!” Hans struggled.

“You no longer meet the guest standards for this event,” one of the guards replied coldly.

Hans was dragged out of the hall. His shoes scraped across the slick marble floor. People watched with disdainful stares. No one intervened. In this world, power was the only law that mattered.

Lyra stared at the massive doors after Hans disappeared from sight. She felt the weight in her chest evaporate.

“Are you satisfied?” Kenzo whispered near her ear.

“This is only the beginning,” Lyra answered.

The orchestra resumed its soft melody. Damian Cullen approached, handing a glass of whiskey to Kenzo.

“Congratulations, Kenzo. You’ve acquired my best asset.”

“I know how to take care of it, Damian,” Kenzo replied with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Kenzo pulled Lyra to the center of the dance floor. They turned beneath the glow of the chandeliers.

Lyra could feel the envious stares from every woman in the room. Yet she also felt the cold weight of the ring on her finger. Beneath the brilliance of the diamond, she knew she had sold her freedom. But seeing Hans’s ruin crushed beneath her heels was a very small price to pay.