Chapter3The Past

Inside the hotel suite, Leonard Eastwood stood shirtless by the window, his expression dark as he looked out over the city skyline.

“Adam.”

At his call, a bald man in a tailored suit stepped in quickly and bowed his head.

“Boss. You’re up.”

Leonard didn’t turn.

“What did you find?”

“It’s confirmed,” Adam replied grimly. “Victor Lin, CEO of Seabright Holdings.”

Adam’s jaw tightened as he continued, anger barely contained.

“He lost the government contract to us last quarter. This was payback. He had something slipped into your drink—planned to set you up.”

“He even had reporters lined up, ready to break the story tomorrow—headline news meant to cripple Eastwood International.”

Leonard’s mouth curved slightly. Not amusement—something colder.

“Fortunately, you didn’t fall into his trap. You left the room he prepared. That bastard ended up celebrating too soon.”

“He’s been in this game long enough to know better,” Leonard said.

“And yet he still dared to scheme against me.”

His gaze sharpened.

“If I let this slide, he’ll think I’ve gone soft.”

Adam met his eyes.

“What’s the move?”

Leonard rolled the signet ring on his thumb, the metal catching the light.

“Make him disappear from the board.”

Adam didn’t flinch. He simply nodded.

“Yes.”

Then, as if remembering something, he added quickly,

“Oh—one more thing. The woman you asked for. The Reed family agreed immediately. They’ve already signed the documents.”

He handed over a sealed folder.

Leonard barely glanced at it. He didn’t take it.

Instead, he pulled on his shirt and said coolly,

“Find out who booked Suite A910. I want that woman located.”

“Yes.”

After Adam left, Leonard noticed something beneath the pillow.

An emerald pendant.

Flawless. Old. Expensive enough to matter.

He picked it up, weighing it lightly in his palm.

A slow smile formed.

“So,” he murmured,

“you left me a clue.”

Carefully, he pocketed it.

His thoughts drifted back to her—the fire, the defiance, the taste of resistance.

He would find her.

Outside the hotel, Leonard spotted a tall man in casual wear leaning against a Ferrari, waving lazily.

Raising an eyebrow, Leonard walked over and clapped him on the shoulder.

“When did you get back?” Leonard asked with a grin. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“This morning,” the man replied, fastening his seatbelt as Leonard climbed into the passenger seat.

“Heard you were here. Thought I’d check in.”

This was Nathan Cole.

Unlike Leonard’s cold ruthlessness, Nathan carried an easy warmth—handsome, refined, perpetually smiling. The kind of man people trusted instinctively.

As the engine roared to life, Leonard chuckled.

“Sherry still hasn’t gotten over you, you know. Aren’t you afraid she’ll come running the moment she hears you’re back?”

“Stop it,” Nathan said, laughing softly.

“But you—your story’s already reached my ears. Sounds… eventful.”

“Very,” Leonard replied, eyes glinting.

“I ran into a little wildcat. All claws and teeth.”

He paused.

“And damn… she was exquisite.”

Nathan glanced at him, surprise flickering across his face.

Women were never lacking around Leonard—but genuine interest?

That was rare.

Still, Nathan frowned slightly.

“What are you planning to do about Tanya Reed? Are you really going to marry her?”

“Marry her?” Leonard let out a short, derisive laugh.

“The daughter of that woman?”

His voice dropped.

“She doesn’t deserve the Eastwood name.”

The Ferrari sped away from the waterfront.

Nathan gripped the steering wheel, his tone turning serious.

“The sins of the previous generation don’t have to be carried forward. Tanya knows nothing about the past. She’s innocent.”

He hesitated, then added,

“And from what I’ve heard, she’s highly educated. Clean, straightforward. Not what you imagine.”

Leonard stared out the window, the city blurring past.

“The daughter of a whore can’t be that pure,” he said coldly.

His voice sharpened into ice.

“Women raised in that kind of house don’t grow up innocent. They learn early how to survive—how to lure, how to attach themselves to power.”