Jessica, with calmness and poise that felt both unsettling and dreadful to Tricia, made her way back toward the ballroom.
But Tricia wasn’t ready to give up—not yet.
She couldn’t afford to lose this one chance to get back at J&D.
She had never expected the tide to turn this fast—and all from a single post. The impact was staggering.
Seeing how the tables had turned with just a single post, she felt her pride wounded, her jaw clenched in anger and frustration.
She had meticulously planned it, very sure it was foolproof but then a single post crumbled her hard work.
If a mere whisper from Jessica had been enough to shake the ground beneath J&D, what would happen if she could lure her to the Watts Group?
Tricia didn’t want to imagine the impact Lady Bright’s name could bring on the Watts Group. If she could convince her to work with them, the leverage alone would be massive.
"You’ll regret walking away," Tricia called after her, frustration and warning lacing her venomous tone. "Opportunities don’t come twice."
Jessica paused but didn’t turn. Her voice floated back, calm and composed. "True opportunities don’t come wrapped in betrayal," she said coldly, turning her head slightly, enough to let a cold smirk lift the corner of her lips.
Her words cut deeper than any blade. She didn’t even need to raise her voice. Triciacs body trembled in anger.
She watched her walk with an air of detached power that made her stomach churn. That calm indifference, that frightening ease, was unbearable.
Jessica couldn’t decide if Tricia was just naive and foolish or just blinded by her obsession with revenge and payback?
She had initially wanted to talk some sense into her, but it had quickly become clear: Tricia’s thirst for revenge was deep and consuming.
It was the kind of desire that devoured everything, even its bearer.
If Tricia didn’t rein it in, it would destroy her.
Either she learned to control it, or she will pay the price for her obsession.
And now, after being out of the hall for so long, Jessica was sure Davis was already searching for her—and probably furious.
A faint smile crept to her lips.
"Despite how troublesome the day has been," she murmured, "it feels good knowing someone is worried about you."
She took the cobbled path back toward the hotel.
Meanwhile, Tricia stood seething in the garden, unable to wrap her head around Jessica’s rejection. She had so many questions to ask.
"Why? How could Lady Bright reject the offer? Did she not like money? Did she not want power? Wasn’t everyone supposed to chase prestige?"
This would’ve elevated her position in the business world instantly. So why had she turned it down? How could Lady Bright turn down such an offer?
Why, then, would she choose a company that had been closed for so long and was only just reopening?
They claimed she had business skills—but this? It looked like empty hype.
Tricia clenched her fists tightly by her sides.
Maybe she had been hasty. Maybe her choice of words was poor.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched Jessica’s figure disappear into the night.
"You’ll see," she whispered. "You. All. Shall. See."
She typed a message into her phone:
"Go ahead with the arrangement. No more delays."
A cold gleam lit her gaze as she stared into the distance, her fingers tightening around the phone.
"No matter how long it takes, I’ll see this through. Davis, you will come begging."
She didn’t doubt her ability to impact Davis or his company.
But what stung most was the fact that Davis had let his wife humiliate her—and offered no apology, no support.
She had once envisioned helping him revive the company. But after tonight, Tricia couldn’t reconcile herself with that hope.
She wouldn’t suffer such a loss and remain calm.
They would pay. All of them.
"Davis may have Lady Bright as his trump card," she muttered. "But what happens when someone bigger, more powerful than Lady Bright steps in? Will they still hold their ground?"
She paced the garden, her mind swirling with dark plans.
While Tricia fumed in the garden, consumed by bitterness, Jessica paid no attention. In her eyes, Tricia was fighting a lost cause.
Lady Bright wasn’t anyone’s pawn—and she certainly wasn’t one in a game she herself had already mastered.
Jessica’s eyes glinted with icy resolve. She hated being threatened.
Tricia’s warning only strengthened her resolve—she’d deal with her, on her own terms.
As she rounded the corner to the hotel’s entrance, she spotted Davis seated just outside, his fist clenched around his phone, repeatedly dialing a number. His eyes scanned the darkness—until they found her.
Relief flooded his face, but he said nothing as she approached.
Jessica gave a faint nod, her composure intact.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
She glanced at him and opened her arms slightly. "I am. What could possibly happen to me?" she smirked.
Davis tilted his head, concern etched in his features. "Why did you come tonight? You’re still on medication. Aren’t you exhausted?"
She stopped beside him and gave a small shrug.
"What do you expect me to do when the allegations are this serious—threatening to undo everything I’ve worked for?" she murmured, almost in complaint.
Davis sighed, guilt flickering behind his gaze. "Hubby is sorry. I should’ve planned this better."
"It’s normal. Besides, Tricia is a viper," Jessica hissed.
The word hit Davis like a punch. Of all the enemies he expected to sabotage him, Tricia had never crossed his mind.
He wanted to deny it, to dismiss it as suspicion. But Jessica had never made baseless accusations. She never spoke without evidence.
"Baby... is that the truth?" His voice was barely a whisper.
He couldn’t bring himself to doubt his wife—not after all they’d endured. But the idea that a so-called friend, someone he had once defended despite her insults toward his wife, had plotted against him?
Maybe it was time to stop being Mr. Nice Guy.
Jessica nodded slightly. "The truth," she whispered. "The face behind the mask."
She could see disbelief flicker in his eyes, but there was no point debating. Not here. Not now.
"Don’t worry," she said calmly. "She wants to play? I’ll play. But this time, I’m playing big."
Without another word, she brushed past him toward the hotel entrance. But then, his voice called after her—low, warm, certain.
"You’re beautiful tonight."
Her steps faltered briefly. She turned and flashed him a radiant smile before disappearing into the corridor lights.
Davis watched her go as his mind raced. One fact certain —His wife was going to play. Now the question was—should he spice things up, or let her take the lead?