The Poisoned Gift

The luxurious tea house in the financial district served as a meeting place for the business world's elite and high-ranking officials to seal discreet deals. It was an exclusive venue adorned with opulent antiques, where soft classical music played in the background to ensure that sensitive conversations remained strictly private.

I sat near the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, sipping a special rose-white tea. Resting on the classic antique table was the leather binder containing the document I had prepared just an hour earlier.

Right on schedule, the double glass doors opened, and Jacob walked in.

He was wearing an expensive, elegantly tailored navy suit—purchased with the bribe money my father had given him as a "performance bonus" to keep tabs on me. Handsome and gentle, with striking hazel eyes that had once made my young heart race, he truly looked the part of a loving, devoted boyfriend.

The moment his gaze locked onto mine, a look of relief briefly flickered across his face before being instantly replaced by his practiced expression of tender devotion.

"Aurelia!" Jacob exclaimed. He rushed over to my table and immediately tried to take my hands in his. "Oh, I was so worried about you! It looked like your father was ready to disown you. What happened? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

I pulled my hands away from his grasp under the pretense of reaching for my teacup. "I'm fine, Jacob. I'm just tired of them constantly treating me like a child."

There was a subtle shift in Jacob's eyes, but he quickly resumed his deceptive smile, leaning even closer across the table.

"I know, babe. I know how strict your father can be," he said soothingly. "But you have to understand him, too. He’s stressed about company matters, and then you defied him at breakfast. He was panicked by what you did—he said that kind of behavior isn't like you at all."

He paused for a moment, skillfully fabricating a tale. "Why don't you let me help you? If you transfer your shares to your father for safekeeping, I can arrange a seat on the board of directors. That way, I can protect your interests from the inside."

Protect my interests?

I forced down a bitter sneer. In my past life, I had believed that exact lie. I had handed everything over to him, trusting that he would be my shield. Instead, he became the dagger that stabbed me in the back.

"I know you always look out for me, Jacob," I said, pretending to be deeply touched. I lowered my eyes to my tea, acting as though I were struggling to control my emotions. "That's why... I realize I can't depend on my father anymore. Valerie and Chloe are always poisoning his mind against me."

Jacob's eyes burned with calculating greed. "You're right, babe. Valerie is a venomous snake. You need someone you can fully trust."

"I do," I softly replied, raising my eyes to meet his. "I trust you."

A smug grin broke across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he could say another word.

"Which is why," I continued, opening the sleek leather binder across the table toward him, "I want to give you control over my mother's hidden reserve before my father finds out and tries to seize it."

Jacob froze, his intense gaze dropping to the leather folder. "What? Your... mother's hidden reserve?"

"My mother didn't leave behind just company shares," I lied smoothly, leaning in close. "She left a private offshore alternative investment fund valued at fifteen million dollars. It's completely separate from the Mercer Group's main accounts—my father doesn't even know it exists."

Jacob caught his breath in surprise. Fifteen million dollars. For an ambitious, greedy man surviving on my father's handouts, that amount was intoxicating.

"Because my father threatened to freeze my accounts today," I said, playing my part flawlessly, "I need someone independent and trustworthy to act as the principal administrator and managing director of the main holding company. That person is you, Jacob. If you sign these documents, you will have full signatory authority over the assets. My father won't be able to touch a single cent."

Jacob stared at the binder as if it were a winning lottery ticket. "Aurelia... is this real? Are you serious? You're handing over full management authority to me?"

"I don't care about the money, Jacob," I whispered, forcing a soft, gentle smile onto my face. "What matters to me is us. I want us to build a future together—far away from my father's control."

"Yes! Of course, babe!" Jacob didn't hesitate for a second. His greed had completely blinded his caution.

He opened the binder. Inside were twenty pages of dense, complex legal jargon printed beneath the heading: Mercer Global Asset & Management Trust Directive.

He flipped to the final page for the signature, his eyes skimming right over the crucial fine print.

What Jacob didn't know—and what any competent lawyer would have warned him about—was that this was not an asset directive. Hidden within Document 14B was an existing legal rider drafted under the authority of Thomas Mercer, my maternal grandfather. By signing as managing trustee, Jacob did not acquire fifteen million dollars in assets; instead, he legally assumed full personal, criminal, and financial liability for a shell entity holding millions in defaulted, high-risk foreign debt.

Furthermore, a strict provision stated that any attempt to liquidate or transfer funds out of the entity without the express written consent of the Mercer Family Lead Legal Counsel—Elias Mercer—would immediately trigger automatic criminal fraud charges before the International Commercial Court.

I was not handing him a fortune. I was handing him a massive financial time bomb—and I held the detonator.

"Where do I sign?" Jacob asked, his voice trembling with excitement as he pulled an expensive gold pen from his jacket pocket.

"Right here, on the line designated for the principal trustee," I said softly, pointing to the bottom of the page.

Without hesitation, Jacob signed his name in large, elegant script: Jacob Alonzo.

The moment the ink dried on the paper, a wave of dark, intoxicating satisfaction surged through my entire being.

"It's done!" Jacob smiled victoriously. He closed the binder, kissed the leather cover, and clutched it tightly against his chest—as if afraid I might take it back. "Don't worry, Aurelia. I’ll make sure this stays safe and hidden from your father."

"I know you will," I said, smiling sweetly. "Oh, by the way... you spoke to Father earlier, didn't you? Did you tell him where I was?"

Jacob paused. A shadow of guilt touched his eyes before he smoothed it away. "Ah, he called me before we met. He ordered me to find out where you were going."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him I was still looking for you, but hadn't found you yet," Jacob lied smoothly. "I wanted to prioritize this and ensure it was safe for both of us."

Liar.

I knew for a fact he had already informed my father of my exact whereabouts thirty minutes ago. David Mendez was likely on his way to the tea house right now, expecting Jacob to hand me over like a trapped stray dog.

"That's wonderful," I said, picking up my clutch bag and rising gracefully from the table.

Jacob looked startled. "Wait, where are you going? We just got here."

"I have an important meeting to attend," I said softly, fixing him with a gaze that had suddenly turned sharp and icy. "Someone is waiting for me downstairs—my personal attorney."

Jacob’s smile vanished, replaced by sudden nervousness. "Attorney? Aurelia... what attorney?"

Before I could answer, the double glass doors swung open.

David Mendez stormed into the room, a cloud of anger surrounding him, with two burly guards at his side. A mask of pure rage twisted his face the moment his eyes locked onto me.

"Aurelia!" David shouted. His voice echoed through the quiet tea house, causing several wealthy patrons to turn and stare. "Stop being so stubborn! Hand over the documents and come with me quietly, or I’ll have you dragged out of here this instant!"

Jacob immediately stood up, playing the hero while clutching the leather binder tightly behind his back. "Mr. Mendez, please, calm down—"

"Shut up, Jacob!" David snapped, striding toward our table. He glared at me, his eyes burning with hatred. "Did you think you could hide from me? Did you think you could stop me from reclaiming the Mendez family's property just by hiring some worthless lawyer?"

"The Mendez family?" A tall, dignified man with an authoritative bearing stepped out of the private elevator near the tea house entrance. His calm, composed voice easily cut through David’s shouting.