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Chapter 7 - The Retaliation

While peace settled over the Buckhead estate, a storm was brewing across the city in a penthouse overlooking Piedmont Park.

Olivia sat in a plush leather armchair, a glass of expensive scotch in hand, staring out at the Atlanta skyline as rain began to pelt the glass. Her father stood by the bar, pacing angrily while talking on his smartphone.

“No, I don't care about the catering deposit! Cancel the whole damn thing!” Robert snapped into the phone before slamming it down onto the marble counter. He turned to his daughter, his face dark with fury. “He’s ruined us, Olivia. The social columns are already sniffing around asking why the wedding was called off at the eleventh hour. Your mother is inconsolable.”

Olivia didn’t cry. Tears were for the weak. Her eyes were hard, fixed on a singular, burning objective: destruction.

“He didn't just break off the wedding, Dad,” Olivia said, her voice frighteningly calm. “He chose a maid over our family name. He thinks he’s untouchable because he runs that tech division.”

“What do you want to do?” Robert asked, his corporate killer instincts kicking in. “Sue him for breach of contract? Launch a PR campaign?”

“No,” Olivia said, standing up and walking toward the window, her reflection cutting a sharp silhouette against the city lights. “Lawsuits take too long, and public relations are messy. We destroy him where it hurts the most: his father’s legacy and his firm’s major capital investors.”

She pulled out her own phone, scrolling through a contact list until she found a name she hadn’t dialed in months: Victor Vance.

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Victor Vance was a ruthless corporate raider known for hostile takeovers, asset stripping, and ruining rival executives with calculated smear campaigns. He also happened to owe the wealthy family a massive financial favor.

“Dad,” Olivia said with a chilling smile, pressing the call button. “Get my laptop. It’s time to teach Michael what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you.”

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