Chapter 89: Crea de' la Technologies.
Next day, Morning...
Mia, the mother of Arthur, sat quietly in the sunlit drawing room, sipping her tea with the grace of a woman who had mastered the art of patience-and manipulation. Though she rarely spoke of her ambitions aloud, they ran deep, dark, and dangerous.
She hadn't married Matthew Silver for love. It was for power-pure and simple. His empire, his influence, his name. That union had given her access to the kind of authority that could sway both enemies and allies. And now, her son-her precious Arthur-was preparing to rise against the one family that had long stood in their way: the Silvers. Especially Scott, and his ever-precious wife, Flora.
But Mia had secrets. Ones that even Arthur must never know.
Across from her, seated with a kind of rigid elegance, was Diana-the very woman Mia had summoned. There was a fire in Diana's eyes, barely masked by her polite demeanor. Exactly what Mia needed.
"Dear," Mia began, setting her teacup down with quiet intent, "I called you here for a personal matter. A secret that must remain between us. Even my son cannot know."
Diana leaned in slightly, curiosity dancing behind her eyes. "Yes, ma'am. You can trust me. Do I look like someone who'd betray you for the Silvers?" Her voice was unwavering. "I'll do anything to bring Scott down-and everything to support you."
Mia smiled, slow and calculated. There was something satisfying about finding the right piece for the game she was playing.
"I knew I wouldn't call the wrong person," she said smoothly. "I want you to support Arthur in whatever I ask of you. Play it smart. Play it loyal. And when the dust settles, there'll be something grand waiting for you."
Diana's lips curled into a knowing smile. She didn't need money-her family was already wealthy. But the fall of the Silvers? The look on Scott's face when his perfect world shattered? That was worth everything.
"Understood, ma'am," Diana said, rising from her seat. "I'll take my leave now."
But Mia lifted a hand, stopping her gently. "Why the rush? I just finished preparing lunch. Stay and eat with me."
Diana shook her head politely. "Thank you, ma'am, but I've got some things to take care of. Another time, perhaps."
Mia nodded slowly, though her eyes remained keen and unreadable. "Very well. Just remember what I said. My words aren't to be taken lightly."
They both shared a short, knowing laugh-two women bound by secrets, power, and the quiet thrill of impending war.
And as Diana walked out, Mia sat back, her tea growing cold, the scheme only just beginning.
~~~
This was what Mia had called Diana for before she made her way to Arthur's residence that very day. She knew the mother and son were drowning in bitterness. Their hatred for Scott and Flora wasn't just deep-it was venomous. And Diana? She was ready to use that poison to her own advantage.
As she drove down the long, winding road, Diana's lips curled into a wicked smile. Then, out of nowhere, laughter burst from her throat-wild, sharp, almost unhinged. It filled the car like a storm, as if she'd momentarily forgotten the world outside.
She could already picture it-Flora's eyes glistening with tears, her perfect little world crashing down around her. And Scott... oh, Scott. The man who had rejected her, humiliated her. She could practically taste the satisfaction of watching him crumble-regret etched into every line of his face. Regret for not choosing her. Regret for not seeing her worth.
She wasn't just some woman he could step over. She was a wealthy man's daughter-too powerful, too connected to be dismissed. And now, she had every intention of showing the world exactly who Diana was.
But as her laughter faded, a shadow of caution crept in.
She knew the danger she was walking into. Mia and Arthur weren't fools-they were dangerous players in a game where trust was a fragile illusion. If she wasn't careful, she could end up as their scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb left behind once the fire started to burn.
She had seen it before-alliances turning cold, betrayal dressed in promises. If things went sideways, if the plan unraveled, Mia and Arthur would throw her to the wolves without blinking.
No. She wouldn't let that happen.
She had to be smarter. Sharper. She needed to play this game like her life depended on it-because in many ways, it did.
So, as the car rolled forward and the city skyline edged closer, Diana straightened in her seat. Her wicked grin returned, but this time it was calmer. Calculated.
If Mia and Arthur thought they could use her and leave her behind, they were sorely mistaken.
She wasn't just a pawn in this war.
She was preparing to be queen.
~~~
Noon.....
Andrea Hart wasn't sleeping either. Like a storm biding its time beyond the horizon, he was watching-waiting for the wind to strike at just the right moment. Nothing about his silence was passive. It was the kind that builds power in shadows.
That afternoon, he sent for Cylene.
He didn't bother with long explanations. "Dress up," he told her over the phone, his voice firm and brief. "You're attending a special occasion."
Cylene didn't ask questions. When Andrea summoned her, it was never without reason.
She dressed with sharp precision, every detail screaming elegance and intent. Her makeup was flawless-deep, seductive eyes framed with kohl, and red lips that glistened with an intensity that could rival a vampire's thirst. There was no softness in her look today. Only power.
Stepping into the brand-new luxury car that waited out front, she didn't need to ask where they were headed. She knew.
Andrea's company-his hidden ace, the one that had been tucked away in City B's shadows for months-was about to make its first public appearance. It had remained buried beneath layers of shell businesses and tight-lipped executives, but now, a part of it would officially surface. And Cylene... Cylene would be the face of it.
She wouldn't show up often. No, her presence would be rare, strategic. The kind of woman who walked in once and left an impression so deep, the room would still feel her for days. She'd have people under her, teams of brilliant minds doing the legwork. But when she appeared-Cylene would speak as the power behind the name.
As the car cruised through the wide City B streets, she leaned back slightly, staring out the tinted windows. Her mind wandered only briefly. She wasn't nervous. This was war-quiet, methodical, and dressed in luxury.
Then, as the vehicle curved into the business district, it rose into view-the tall, gleaming skyscraper that mirrored the sky in its spotless glass panels. It stood proud and silent, towering over the others like a sentinel.
And there, etched across the reflective face of the building in sleek, silver lettering:
Crea de' la Technologies
Cylene's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile.
The world would see innovation.
Only a few would see the truth.
Crea de' la wasn't just about communication-it was about control. And soon, City B would feel it.
Andrea had lit the match.
Now, it was her turn to watch the flames spread.
Inside the top floor of Crea de' la Technologies, the air was too cold-sterile, like the future had already arrived and decided warmth was unnecessary. Glass walls gleamed. Chrome fixtures reflected the quiet hum of machines running somewhere just beyond reach. And in the heart of it all stood Andrea Hart, gazing out across City B with the detachment of a man who saw the world not as it was, but as he intended it to be.
He didn't smile. He rarely did. Emotions were useful tools, nothing more. What mattered now was execution.
Behind him, the doors slid open with a soft hiss.
"Cylene has arrived," came the voice of his assistant, crisp and low.
Andrea didn't turn. "Send her in."
A moment later, she stepped into the room like it already belonged to her. Cylene Hart-calm, beautiful, dangerous. Dressed in a fitted black suit, her heels clicked confidently across the floor. She paused beside him, their reflections standing shoulder to shoulder against the sprawling cityscape.
"It's done," she said simply.
He finally looked at her. "The labs?"
"Sealed. Scrubbed. No trail. What they find is what we want them to find."
Andrea nodded once, pleased. That was the thing about Cylene-she didn't ask questions, and she never left loose ends. That's why she was here. That's why she was the face. If Crea de' la was the machine, she was the illusion of a human hand guiding it.
"They won't know what hit them," she added.
"They won't even know they were hit," Andrea replied.
A brief silence passed between them.
"City B is ready," he continued, folding his hands behind his back. "The branch goes public next week. We let them celebrate a little. Let them believe they've finally caught up with the future."
He arched a brow. "And then?"
Andrea's gaze sharpened. "Then we remind them who owns it."
Because Crea de' la wasn't about progress-it was about power. Clean. Quiet. Unquestionable. It had taken decades to build this façade, to position themselves as saviors of the digital age.
But Andrea had never wanted to save the world.
He wanted to own it.
And Cylene? She was perfectly fine with that-so long as the world knew her name too.
~~~
Cylene, after leaving the Crea de' la Technologies building, moved along with her driver on the road.
An order from her made the car stop violently.
"Let me stop here at this junction, I'll be back in some minutes," she said nonchalantly.
The driver shook his head in agreement. Not that he was willing to stalk her before-he just wanted to get paid and that's all.
She got down hurriedly, and just then she realized she was still on heels. She quickly changed them to flat footwear before leaving.
The estate was just like it was in the past-silent, beautiful, and aristocratic. She walked past a street before turning to the right, and the destined mansion she was heading to appeared before her.
Reaching the gate, the security man immediately recognized her.
"Ohh, madam! It's been a long time. How have you been?" he asked with an astonished expression.
"I'm okay," she replied dryly, even though she felt it wasn't any of his business. A pokenoser.
"Is my daughter in?" She couldn't waste any more time.
"Yes, madam."
Before she walked in, she handed the security man some cool cash-to keep him shut from telling anyone, especially Broe, her daughter's husband.
She pushed open the door and walked in slowly. The living room was silent, and nothing had really changed.
Just as she lifted up her face, she saw Presch setting the dining table just as a housewife should do.
"My love."
Presch immediately recognized the voice, even though she was backing the owner.
She turned around instantly.
"Mum?"
Surprise! Hatred and love mixed up together within her all at once.
"You left us all this while, and here you are, claiming to be our what?"
"Do you even know where your son is right now?" she continued, pretending like she ever cared about her brother.
"Even I, who lost her child... my own mother wasn't even there to support me. You left-leaving me to face that pain alone!"
Presch began to sob non-stop.
Cylene felt weak in her legs. They twitched and made her lift herself slowly. She walked up to her crying daughter.
"My love, I'm sorry..."
She began to cry too, tears flowing freely, comfortably.
"I shouldn't have just left that way. I was caged, restricted... tortured."
"He imprisoned me. He shut me away from the world for years. I'm so sorry."
The mother and daughter sobbed together. Cylene quickly held on to her and gave her a warm, motherly hug.
"Mum, who is he? What offenses have you committed?" she asked in awe.
Cylene was struck dumb. She couldn't find the words.
"Let's forget about the devil. I'm just happy to see you. And I promise, from now on, I'll never leave your side again."
"And for Flora's case-we're never backing down. I'll give her the torture she owes us. I'll pay her back for you... and for Royce."
She promised solely, firmly.
Presch nodded.
She was relieved to hear that. She smiled wickedly, knowing Flora would never escape her grip again.
"Mum, but you need to leave now. Broe will soon be back with his mother," she said as she released the hug.
"That old witch is still coming back here?" Cylene's face twisted in annoyance.
"Yes, mum. I tried my best to make her stay where she was, but Broe never agreed. You know I can't let him know about the drugs I took during my pregnancy."
She said in a low tone.
"He will never know. We'll either eliminate the doctor... or bury him," Cylene snapped.
Presch's eyes lit up-her mother hadn't changed. She was glad.
"But... I think the doctor told him some things. But Broe never talked about it to me till this day. I'm worried, mum."
"You don't have to be, dear. I'm back. And how sure are you about what the doctor said?"
"I was still unconscious at the hospital when they met for discussion. I underwent an operation... for the dead baby to be removed," she said, her voice tightening with pain.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there, Princess. I should have-"
"It's fine, Mum. You're here now. And I believe you'll surely do the best for me now."
"Yes. I promise," Cylene whispered, stroking her hair.
Just then, a car horn beeped from outside the gate.
"Mum, that's Broe!"
"What?!"
"He mustn't see you now. Hide fast!" Presch urged.