Chapter 184: Chapter 184: Friend Or Enemy?
The doors of Arthur Livingston’s study were shut tight, keeping the chill of the west wing corridors at bay. Inside, the sharp smell of old paper and physical leather dominated the room. Arthur sat behind his expansive desk, flipping through a thick stack of printed logistics manifests—a stubborn holdover from his refusal to rely entirely on digital clouds.
He didn’t look up when the door clicked open, though he spoke immediately. "Sit down."
Alex walked in, pulling back the heavy leather chair across from his father. His movements were deliberate, completely devoid of the restless, eager-to-please energy he used to carry into this room. The dark purple bruising along his jawline from the gallery incident had long faded, replaced by a cold, hardened expression that had become his permanent mask over the past month.
Arthur finally set the manifest down, crossing his hands over the desk. He studied his son for a silent moment, noting the sharp cut of Alex’s tailored suit and the quiet intensity in his eyes.
"The Ministry of Commerce is hosting a private dinner at the Grand Pavilion this Friday," Arthur began, his gravelly voice echoing slightly against the high ceilings. "The invitations are tightly regulated. It’s mostly upper-tier sector heads and ministry officials. I want you to attend and represent the family, along with Anna."
Alex didn’t hesitate. "Consider it done. I’ll coordinate with her family to make sure nothing goes wrong."
A small, rare nod of approval came from Arthur. He leaned back, the leather of his executive chair creaking under his weight. "Good. I’ve been tracking the quarterly numbers. The logistics division managed to secure three major distribution contracts over the past four weeks under your direct supervision. Your focus has changed, Alex. The business has grown more in this past month than it did in the last fiscal year when you were still treating the family name like a social pass."
He tapped a heavy finger on the desk. "We’re already looking into expanding our primary port warehouses to accommodate the influx of these new contacts. You’re delivering the weight of result I asked for."
’Finally. He’s looking at me as an executive, not just a tool for an arranged marriage.’
"But," Arthur’s voice dropped, the brief praise instantly pivoting back to strategy. "The expansion requires capital, and more importantly, it requires the infrastructure alignment we discussed. Why are you still delaying the formal marriage? Every week you push back the date is another week the Brodick merger remains stuck in legal limbo. We need their telecommunications network fully integrated if we’re going to lock down the backbone of the Veyra One layout."
Alex met his father’s sharp gaze without flinching. "There won’t be any more delays. The wedding will be next month. I’ll let Anna pick the exact date this week so the legal teams can finalize the merger paperwork concurrently."
"Next month. Make sure she holds to it," Arthur said flatly. He picked his pen back up, his eyes already dropping back down to the printed ledgers on his desk, signaling the conversation was effectively over.
Alex stood up, smoothing the front of his jacket. He turned toward the heavy doors, his mind already shifting to the logistics of the upcoming ministry dinner. He took three steps before his father’s voice cut through the quiet room one last time.
"One more thing," Arthur murmured, not looking up from his paperwork. "My contacts in the ministry mentioned the guest list for Friday. Jake Rivers is scheduled to be present."
Alex froze. His boot remained poised an inch above the Persian rug as a sudden, sharp coldness flooded his chest. For a split second, the phantom thud of Jake’s fist against his jaw seemed to echo in his ears, and the image of Aliya flashed behind his eyes.
’Jake is going to be there.’
Alex closed his eyes, swallowed the sudden dryness in his throat, and forced his posture back into a rigid, unbreakable line. He didn’t turn around to face his father. He simply dropped his foot, took the final steps to the door, and walked out into the corridor, letting the heavy mahogany door click shut behind him.
Standing in the quiet, dim hallway of the west wing, Alex stood still for a long beat. Slowly, a sharp, bitter grin spread across his face, his jaw tightening with a volatile mix of defiance and anticipation.
’Let him be there. I’m not the same guy who used to bail him out of college fights and clean up his messes while he played the hero. Friday night, he’s going to see exactly what the Livingstons are building.’
With his grin widening into a cold, focused smirk, Alex turned on his heel and walked briskly down the corridor.
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Reaching his private office at the end of the east corridor, Alex locked the door behind him and bypassed his main desk entirely. He walked over to a sleek, unadorned biometric terminal mounted on the wall, pressing his thumb against the glass. A hidden panel slid open, revealing a dual-monitor trading station completely isolated from the Livingston group’s corporate network.
He sat down, waking the screens. The glowing interfaces of his private offshore accounts illuminated his face in a cool, blue hue.
’Father actually believes this entire warehouse expansion hinges on his traditional credit lines and the Brodick merger. He still looks at me and sees the boy who needs a family sandbox to play in. The old guard really has absolutely no idea how slow their world moves.’
Alex leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the flashing data streams.
’Tuesday and Wednesday changed the entire board.’
He tapped a key, pulling up the history logs for the week’s trading volume.
Jake’s signal on Tuesday morning was the moment Alex’s capital increased by nearly a hundred million. And by Wednesday afternoon, the second signal panned out more or less the same. He knew Jake to the core and that if Jake dared to post the signal, then it was most definitely the right. And he wasn’t about to lose on making massive profits just because Jake is the one feeding.
The interface refreshed, displaying his private capital ledger. Bright green digits flashed across the dark background.
’Look at that liquidity. It’s staggering. More than enough liquid capital to break ground on the primary port warehouses tomorrow morning if I want to. No waiting for father’s signature. No waiting for the Brodick legal teams to drag their feet through the telecom integration paperwork.’
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a dark, completely unbothered smirk cutting across his face.
’Keep fighting your public crusade, Jake. Keep running around Veyra pretending you’re the only genius in the city because you stepped into a dead man’s shoes. Every single time you push the market to settle your personal scores, you throw millions of dollars directly into my war chest. You just funded the foundation that’s going to swallow you whole.’
Alex closed the terminal, the blue light fading instantly into pitch black. He stood up, adjusted his French cuffs, and walked out into the evening light.
The cool air of the courtyard did little to settle the high-octane buzz humming through Alex’s veins. He pulled his smartphone from his inner pocket, sliding his thumb across the screen to dial a familiar number. It rang twice before a crisp, perfectly measured voice answered.
"Alex," Anna Brodick said, the background noise on her end completely silent. "I assume you’re calling about the wedding timeline. My father has been breathing down my neck all afternoon."
"The wedding is next month, Anna. Pick whatever date keeps the old men happy," Alex said, his tone flat, entirely transactional. He walked down the marble steps toward his parked sedan. "But that’s not why I’m calling. The Ministry of Commerce sent out the finalized guest list for the Grand Pavilion dinner this Friday. We’re representing the Livingston name together."
There was a brief pause over the line, followed by the soft rustle of silk as Anna shifted her position. "A ministerial dinner. Direct access to the regulatory heads. That’s a significant step up from the local commercial circuit."
"It gets better," Alex replied, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice as he opened his car door. "Jake Rivers will be in attendance. Personally."
The silence on the other end instantly tightened. Alex could practically hear the gears turning in Anna’s head. Ever since the violent blowout in Box 7, she had been treating their arrangement less like an unwanted obligation and more like a high-stakes intelligence operation.
"Jake is going?" Anna asked, her voice dropping into that sharp, intensely focused melody she used whenever she smelled real power. "After what happened at the gallery, I didn’t think you’d willingly put yourself in the same room as him so quickly."
"You are overthinking it," Alex said, sliding into the leather driver’s seat and resting his wrist against the steering wheel. "He thinks his little Aurelia Capitals shield makes him untouchable in front of the old guard. But Friday night is going to be different."
"I’ll have my dress prepared immediately," Anna murmured, a calculating hum beneath her words. "If Jake is going to be there, every tier-one executive in Veyra will be watching. We need to look entirely unified, Alex. No hesitation, no cracks in the facade."
’She still wants to use me as leverage,’ Alex realized, his eyes narrowing into the dark windshield. ’She thinks she can play both sides of the fence to see who comes out on top.’
"We’ll be more than unified, Anna," Alex told her, his jaw tightening into a hard line. "Just make sure you’re ready to play your part when the cameras flash. I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t be late."
"I’m never late for a performance," Anna replied smoothly, and the line went dead.
Alex tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He turned the key, the heavy V8 engine roaring to life with a deep, guttural growl that echoed off the stone walls of the estate. Shifting into drive, he accelerated down the long, shadowed driveway, his eyes fixed firmly on the city skyline gleaming in the distance.
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