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Amelia smiled at the elderly man before her. “Good evening, Mr. Cavendish. Ith Amelia.”
Percival Cavendish watched Amelia remove her mask with only mild surprise no shock.
Seeing his reaction, Amelia got the message loud and clear.
She carried the bag of premium tea Louie had prepared and walked to the old man’s coffee service, slowly unwrapping the beans.
“Louie said this is your favorite Ethiopian single–origin. Want me to brew some?” Amelia asked.
“Sure,” Percival replied.
The room went quiet except for Amelia preparing the coffee. Her movements were smooth and practiced.
The rich aroma filled the space.
Finally, Amelia handed the cup to Percival.
He took it and sipped thoughtfully.
“It’s been years since anyone could make coffee this good. He taught you everything,” Percival said.
Amelia’s eyes dropped slightly as she cleaned the equipment.
“Yeah, who else would he teach? I was his daughter,” she said.
They both knew “he” meant her dead father.
That once–powerful, charismatic man was forever frozen on that rainy day.
“I thought you weren’t planning to drop the mask,” Percival continued.
Amelia smiled, meeting Percival’s gaze. “How could my amateur hour fool you. Mr. Cavendish? You’ve known all along, right?”
Amelia studied the old man calmly.
From the second she’d gotten that invitation, she knew the jig was up.
Sure, she and Louie had NDAs and were careful as hell, but lots of things couldn’t survive real scrutiny–especially when Percival Cavendish wanted
answers.
Take tonight’s tanzanite–other families might struggle to trace it, but if Percival wanted intel, he’d have it instantly.
It was his auction house, after all.
So when she’d walked into this room, she’d decided to drop the bullshit.
“What’s the deal with you and my grandson?” Percival asked straight up.
“Not sure which part you mean,” Amelia said.
“All of it,” Percival’s voice carried serious weight.
Amelia didn’t seem fazed, just smiled:
“First off, Louie and I aren’t hooking up. We’ve got a business thing going–mutually beneficial.”
“Second, I didn’t tell Louie to pick fights with Nathan, but I definitely dragged him into my mess.”
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“Bullshit!” The second Amelia finished, Percival slammed his hand on the armrest, looking plased.
But Amelia just looked at him calmly. “Mr. Cavendish, watch that hand.”
Percival kept up his act: “You know Harrison Group runs this city, and you still dragged my grandson in! You trying to sink the whole Cavendish family?!”
“Mr. Cavendish, you’re being dramatic. That’s not my game,” Amelia replied coolly, totally unfazed.
Seeing intimidation wasn’t working, Percival dropped the theater: “Cavendish Group has no business in your drama with Nathan Harrison. I’m not looking to piss him off.”
Amelia finally cracked another smile.
“Mr. Cavendish, you’re fucking with me,” she said, leaving it hanging.
Percival stared at her with predator eyes, cranking up the pressure.
The Cavendish empire wasn’t built on handshakes and charity–young Percival had been ruthless, borderline criminal.
Only losing his golden boy eldest son had mellowed him slightly.
But that killer instinct never left.
Look how he was letting his three grandsons tear each other apart–still ice–cold.
Someone like that wouldn’t fold just hearing Nathan Harrison’s name.
“How am I fucking with you?” Percival finally asked.
Amelia said quietly: “Because you’re actually pumped that someone’s ballsy enough to go after Harrison Group.”
She flashed a gorgeous smile.
“You’re making your grandsons compete because you want the family stronger. If you backed down every time someone mentioned Nathan, this family would be toast.”
“Plus, Cavendish Group isn’t some pushover. You’ve already run the numbers on this risk.”
“Percival’s eyes narrowed as he sized up the woman across from him.
Somehow, he was seeing glimpses of his beloved eldest son in her.
His actual plan was way more brutal than she imagined.
Harrison Group was a beast, but Cavendish wasn’t going down easy. If Nathan came for blood, he’d throw Louie to the wolves as an offering–after all, Percival “had no clue” Elena was really Amelia.
If Louie won, he’d lead Cavendish to new heights.
Win the bet, family rises.
Lose the bet, sacrifice Louie.
He was ready to burn a grandson if necessary.
The room was bright, coffee steam making everything feel sophisticated.
Amelia waited a beat, then said: “So, Mr. Cavendish, do I pass?”
Percival glanced at Amelia and chuckled.
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Chapter 45
“I honestly don’t know what you were doing all those years playing house with Nathan.”
Amelia grinned: “Well, I’m done playing house now.”
As a seasoned operator, Percival had figured out the Amelia Nathan situationes ago.
Amelia wasn’t satisfied with vague promises and kept watching Percival, waiting for real answers.
Silent psychological warfare played out between them.
Finally, Percival said: “I can promise to stay out of my grandsons‘ war. Everything else, like you said, I’m letting them fight it out–last man standing
wins.”
Amelia smiled. Tonight’s mission: accomplished.
Louie had explained that each brother controlled their own business segments Sebastian had gained ground mainly by trash–talking Louie to their grandfather, poisoning the well.
The old man’s opinion shaped everyone else’s moves–critical leverage.
Once grandpa went neutral, Louie just needed time to reclaim control.
Perfect.
Amelia made small talk with the old man, then put her mask back on.
As she reached for the door, she heard Percival sigh: “Shame he died so young
Amelia’s hand froze on the handle. She wanted to spin around and demand answers about her father’s death!
Her last bit of sanity held her back.
Tonight’s performance–the bluffing, fake confidence, mysterious act–had maxed out her current abilities. Her father’s case had to wait.
Amelia let go of the handle, bowed to the old man after stepping out, then shut the door.
“How’d it go? What happened?” Louie was practically vibrating with anxiety.
The room was soundproof–he’d heard jack shit even with his ear pressed to the door.
The other two brothers were still lurking. Amelia kept her face neutral: “Let’s bounce.”
She headed downstairs first.
Louie hung back to argue with Sebastian, who’d been dropping snarky comments.
Amelia didn’t want to hear that drama, so she calmly walked down.
But right around the first corner, someone blocked her path.
Amelia looked up.
Wessex family.
New York’s power trio: Harrison Group, Cavendish Group, and Wessex Industries.
Each controlled different vital parts of the city.
Wessex Industries owned New York’s biggest gem and jewelry chains.
Her tanzanite had originally come from a Wessex store.
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“Elena?” He looked her up and down with an amused smirk.
“Mr. Wessex,” Amelia greeted him evenly.
“You know me?” Lester seemed surprised.
Amelia looked up: “Your rep speaks for itself. How could I not?”
Lester figured that tracked, but whatever.
“Why are you and Vivian going nuclear over that tanzanite?” Lester leaned in
Amelia just smiled without answering.
“I saw how crazy that bidding got, so I had my people pull our records immedi
Amelia stayed silent, staring straight ahead.
“Come on, aren’t you curious? Fine, I’ll tell you–original buyer was Amelia Vis
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“Elena?” He looked her up and down with an amused smirk.
“Mr. Wessex.” Amelia greeted him evenly.
“You know me?” Lester seemed surprised.
Amelia looked up: “Your rep speaks for itself. How could I not?”
Lester figured that tracked, but whatever.
“Why are you and Vivian going nuclear over that tanzanite?” Lester leaned in Spill.”
Amelia just smiled without answering.
“I saw how crazy that bidding got, so I had my people pull our records immediately. Wanna know what we found?”
Amelia stayed silent, staring straight ahead.
“Come on, aren’t you curious? Fine, I’ll tell you–original buyer was Amelia Visconti. Nathan Harrison’s wife.”
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