Chapter 7: Kyle's Greed

The long-awaited evening had finally arrived.

The main hall of the luxurious restaurant located in the most exclusive district of downtown had been transformed into an extraordinarily magnificent celebration venue. Massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling reflected golden light, bathing every corner of the room adorned with arrangements of expensive white lilies and red roses.

The invited guests from the upper class—board members, international business partners, and prominent socialites—began to arrive, filling the hall with the shimmer of gala attire and the murmur of elegant conversations.

At the back of the hall was a private VIP room reserved exclusively for the host.

Inside the lavishly designed soundproof room, Kyle Stevens stood beside a glass table. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that accentuated his physique, he was carefully arranging a maroon velvet jewelry box.

Bram, his best friend and corporate attorney, sat on the sofa across from him while sipping whiskey, a deep frown etched on his face.

“I honestly can't understand the way your mind works, Kyle,” Bram said, breaking the silence in a low voice. “Why are you wasting money renting out an entire floor of this restaurant and preparing such an extravagant gift just to celebrate a ten-year marriage that... legally doesn't even exist anymore?”

Kyle did not answer immediately.

He tightened the golden ribbon around the jewelry box before finally speaking.

“This is extremely important, Bram. Everything has to look perfect in public. Especially in front of Ravelle. At least until I achieve my goal.”

Bram let out a long sigh and set down his whiskey glass.

“Kyle, be honest with me. We've been friends since college. Why have you kept Ravelle around for the past eight years? You know perfectly well that the legal wife registered with the state is Jessica. Why didn't you get rid of Ravelle long ago and officially present Jessica to the public?”

Unbeknownst to them, a woman stood motionless behind the slightly open oak door.

Ravelle.

She had just arrived and intended to meet Kyle, but her steps came to an immediate halt when she heard Jessica's name.

Instead of panicking or trembling, Ravelle's maroon eyes narrowed sharply.

She moved closer to the crack in the door and listened carefully, prepared to hear the confession of the man who had deceived her.

Kyle set down the jewelry box and leaned against the edge of the table with his arms crossed.

His eyes gleamed with cold calculation.

“You don't understand the business dynamics, Bram. This isn't simply a matter of sentiment,” Kyle replied in a deep voice. “Eight years ago, Jessica became pregnant with my biological child, Calysta. You know very well how my mother constantly pressured and humiliated Ravelle because of that infertility diagnosis. My mother demanded a Stevens bloodline heir. At a time when I was frustrated, Jessica came along. I had no choice but to marry her legally so Calysta could have a legitimate birth certificate as my daughter.”

Kyle walked toward the large window, staring arrogantly at the glittering city lights.

“But I couldn't just throw Ravelle away. The soul of Stevens Corporation's core technology system is permanently tied to intellectual property rights under her name. If I divorced her openly before the company went public, those patents would be withdrawn, and our stock value would plummet before we even reached the market.”

Kyle chuckled, a greedy smile appearing on his handsome face.

“Ravelle is my ace card. She's a genius and obedient woman. For ten years, she managed the household, raised my child with Jessica, and protected my reputation as a devoted family man in the eyes of investors without asking for a single share. She's the perfect tool to take me to the top.”

Bram shook his head, shocked by the level of cunning displayed by his friend.

“And what about Jessica? Doesn't she demand to be publicly recognized as Mrs. Stevens?”

“Jessica knows her place,” Kyle replied without the slightest trace of guilt. “Ravelle may be too elegant, rigid, and boring in bed, unlike Jessica, who knows exactly how to satisfy my desires and my ego as a man. But when it comes to the position of a life partner respected by business tycoons? Only Ravelle is worthy of that. Jessica is my passion, but Ravelle is the foundation of my wealth.”

“But this charade will explode if Ravelle finds out, Kyle! If that day comes, who will you choose?” Bram asked anxiously.

Kyle turned around, his smile now filled with the absolute arrogance of a man who believed he held all the cards.

He picked up the velvet jewelry box from the table.

“I won't need to choose either one, Bram. Because both of them will remain mine forever. Ravelle will continue to be the lady of the house who protects my technology patents, and Jessica will continue to be the woman who satisfies my needs. Everything is under my control.”

Outside the room, Ravelle pulled her head away from the crack in the door.

Not a single tear fell from her eyes.

Her face was pale, but not because of sadness.

It was because of a level of disgust so profound that it reached her very bones.

'Your greed truly knows no bounds, Kyle,' Ravelle thought.

The corner of her lips curled into a thin smile that was unbearably cold and terrifying.

The man believed he was controlling a helpless orphan girl, never realizing that he was playing with fire against the sole heiress of the Branson empire.

With graceful and silent footsteps, Ravelle turned around, left the private corridor, and made her way back toward the bustling main hall.

The moment she entered the main hall, Ravelle's gaze immediately landed on the VIP sofa near the main stage.

There, an equally disgusting scene was unfolding.

Calysta—the little girl she had raised at the cost of her own health for seven years—was sitting affectionately on Jessica Hepburn's lap.

Tonight, Jessica looked especially eye-catching in a low-cut crimson gown, displaying diamond jewelry that stood in stark contrast to Ravelle's elegant maroon dress.

Jessica fed a small piece of cake to Calysta with theatrical tenderness.

The child accepted it with sparkling eyes before wrapping her arms around Jessica's neck and kissing her cheek affectionately.

To the invited guests, the three of them (if Kyle joined them) would appear to be the portrait of a perfect and loving family.

But to Ravelle, they were nothing more than a group of clowns dancing on a stage that was about to collapse.

'Mother and biological daughter... what a cheap spectacle,' Ravelle sneered inwardly.

Ravelle touched the smartwatch Ethan Jhins had given her on her left wrist.

The device provided a cold sense of security.

She glanced at the restaurant's wall clock.

It was almost eight o'clock in the evening.

Soon, Ethan's message regarding the toxicology laboratory results would arrive.

Ravelle took a deep breath, straightened her beautiful shoulders, and put on the flawless mask of aristocratic composure.

Not a ripple of emotion appeared on her face as she walked through the crowd of guests who looked at her with admiration for her elegance.

She was ready to greet her “husband.”

The greedy man who would soon emerge from the private room carrying a jewelry box wrapped in layers upon layers of lies.