Chapter 4 Chapter 4: Malicious intent

Damian Blackwood

I cut the call, pinching the soft skin between my eyes. Why did she always have to be so fucking needy? All the time. If I hadn’t found out who she really was, I wouldn’t have wasted one second of my precious time on her.

But I needed that inheritance. And I was willing to do anything to get it.

Thanks to how stupid she was, she didn’t even realize she was the one and only Marcus Vance’s daughter.

I noticed it right from when we started dating, when she got that first scholarship.

A normal, wretched orphan? She wasn’t as simple as she seemed. After a lot of digging in with all my resources, I discovered I had hit the jackpot. A chance to expand past anything Blackwood Tech could do on its own.

Not only that, she got to raise my children with the absolute love of my life, and I still got a dirty cut. All I had to do was keep up with her stupidity for a while, and I’d be free.

“Babe, I’m getting tired. I need to go home soon.”

Serena’s voice pulled me back to the private lounge at Azure. She had played her part well tonight…draped in the gold gown I bought with Ava’s card, laughing at the right moments, touching my arm and kissing me nonstop.

I had brought her out to meet some business partners, presenting her as my future heiress. Together with my children. So far, she had held up much better than Ava would have ever been.

“Okay, babe. The driver will take you home. I need to spend a bit more time here.”

“Alright, babe,” she said, walking to my front and kissing me deeply, not minding the people seated around us.

My smile faltered a little as she took the children’s hands, walking away with them. Isla looked back once. I didn’t wave.

I turned back to the table, raising my glass. “Alright, gentlemen. So about that proposal?”

Brian…my oldest friend, leaned back in his chair, swirling his whiskey. “You’re going to leave sweet Ava for that bitch?”

I set my glass down. The sound was sharp. “Watch your mouth, Brian.”

“Bro, we don’t support you. That’s just weird as fuck.” He squinted toward the door where Serena had disappeared.

“And this bitch looks familiar. I don’t know where, but I feel like I know her from somewhere.”

“And so?”

“And what you’re doing is just not fair. Where is your wife now?”

“Ava?” I laughed, waving a hand. “She called some weeks ago saying she had an accident or something. It’s just a plot to be clingy. She’s probably sitting at home waiting for me to rush over and hold her hand.”

Brian shook his head. “You’re a cold bastard, you know that?”

“It’s called being a CEO, Brian. Emotions don’t build empires.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice.

“Speaking of empires, I need to talk to you about Julian Wright. I’ve been trying to partner with him for months. His brother’s fashion house is expanding into tech…wearables, integrated software. If I can get Blackwood Tech into that deal, we’re looking at a nine-figure valuation jump.”

“Julian Wright?” One of the other men, Cole, whistled low. “Good luck. That family doesn’t return calls. They buy companies they want and bury the ones they don’t.”

“They’ll return mine,” I said, smiling. “I have leverage.”

“Leverage?” Brian asked.

I was about to answer when my phone buzzed against the table. The caller ID read: Vance Investigation Services.

I stood up. “Excuse me, gentlemen. Business.”

I walked to the far corner of the lounge, near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and answered. “Tell me you have good news.”

The PI’s voice was flat, professional. “It’s done, Mr. Blackwood. Arthur Vance is confirmed dead. Due to Heart failure, six months ago. The estate has been in probate limbo because they couldn’t locate the heir, but now that we’ve confirmed Ava Duval’s location and identity, the paperwork is moving. The inheritance should be ready for transfer within the month.”

I felt a rush of heat in my chest. Finally, “And her father, Marcus?” I asked.

“Furious. He’s been contesting the will since the old man died. But it’s ironclad. Arthur left everything to the granddaughter. Marcus gets nothing unless she signs it over.”

“Which she will,” I said quietly. “Because she trusts me.”

“One more thing,” the PI said. “We found the estimated cost of the locket. The market value is above eighty million dollars, sir.”

I closed my eyes. I remembered the first time I saw it, five years ago, when Ava was asleep in my apartment after our third date.

The chain had slipped out from her collarbone, and the silver caught the light. A.V. I had thought it was a coincidence then. Just some cheap orphanage trinket.

But then the scholarship came through. The Arthur Vance Foundation. And I started watching. The anonymous grants. The waived competition fees. The way she never questioned her luck. She thought she was blessed.

She wasn’t blessed. She was bred. And bred well.

“Send me the full report,” I said. “And the bill.”

“Already in your inbox.”

I ended the call and stood there for a moment, looking at my reflection in the dark glass.

I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t feel anything. Ava had always loved too hard, too loud, too much. It exhausted me. It made me feel small. But that love was a tool, and I had finally found the right job for it.

I walked back to the table with a grin.

“What’s got you looking like you won the lottery?” Brian asked.

“Better,” I said, pouring champagne for everyone. “Drinks are on me, boys.”

Cole raised a brow. “What are we celebrating?”

“Love and life,” I said,

Brian stared at me like I was a stranger. Maybe I was.

I picked up my phone, scrolling to Ava’s number. She was probably still in that hospital bed, alone, wondering why her husband hadn’t come. Wondering what she had done wrong.

Poor, stupid girl.

I looked at my friends, raised my glass, and knocked back the rest of my drink.

“Alright, boys,” I said, standing. “It’s show time.”

I dialed her number.