His Secret Child, Her Revenge: Remarrying Up novel Chapter 8

Leaving the jewelry store, Jasmine still felt like she was dreaming.

Was it a scam?

But they'd agreed to pay before she handed it over, which didn't fit the profile of a con.

She called Sierra.

Sierra didn't overthink it.

"Maybe the guy just really loves the piece and didn't want you to back out and keep it. He's paying a premium to lock it down."

Jasmine decided that made sense and stopped obsessing over it.

She'd just wait and see if 100 million dollars actually landed in her account.

That afternoon, Jasmine arrived at the meeting ten minutes early.

The Gilded Lounge was a high-end club.

The interior was dominated by classic, dark-wood furniture and intricate carvings, with exquisite incense burners set on traditional square tables.

The warm glow of the ornate lamps gave the suite an ancient, elegant atmosphere.

When Jasmine walked in, she saw a tall, straight back.

He was facing away from her, seemingly admiring the calligraphy on the wall.

Yet he looked like a man who belonged in a painting—radiating the effortless calm and authority of someone born to lead.

"Hello. I'm Thorne. Sierra set up this meeting."

The man turned around, and time seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

It wasn't just his striking, otherworldly handsome face that caught Jasmine's eye; it was the natural, king-like aura he carried.

"Hello," the man said. "I'm Ethan. Ethan Cross."

Jasmine instinctively reached out her hand. "Jasmine Thorne."

Ethan stayed still for a moment, his hand unmoved.

Feeling a bit awkward, Jasmine started to pull her hand back.

Suddenly, his hand moved forward, firmly grasping hers.

His palm was warm, sending a faint jolt through her fingertips.

The warmth was fleeting, and they both sat down.

"Should I call you Miss Thorne, or Mrs. Vance?" Ethan asked.

Jasmine was surprised. "You know who I am?"

"I've heard things."

Jasmine was skeptical of that.

In three years of marriage, Silas had rarely taken her to any private gatherings, only the mandatory business functions.

"Miss Thorne is fine. It's more comfortable."

"In that case, Miss Thorne, shall we get straight to business?"

He was decisive and direct. She liked that.

"How much are you offering for my game, Mr. Cross?"

"200 million. For the buyout."

Jasmine smiled faintly. "I assume you've looked into the game. High freedom, low-stress immersion, pastoral healing... once it hits the market, it'll be a massive hit with the corporate crowd.

"My projections show an annual revenue of at least 100 million. If sales take off, you'll make your money back in two or three years.

"And as long as you maintain the updates, the retention rate will be huge. You can even launch merchandise and brand extensions.

"The future revenue will far exceed 200 million."

The man's long index finger traced the rim of his teacup, his voice calm yet serious.

"So, what is your price, Miss Thorne?"

"400 million."

Ethan paused for a few seconds before speaking slowly.

"The profits you mentioned are based entirely on speculation. If I buy it for 200 million, I'm already taking a gamble. What if I lose?"

"You won't," Jasmine said instantly. "I have complete confidence in this game."

"You seem very sure of yourself."

Jasmine didn't flinch under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Of course."

She felt a bit embarrassed to say it, but she went with the truth.

"I handled the entire development alone. I put a massive amount of time and energy into it. I never planned to sell it. I'm only doing this because I'm desperate for cash."

"Fine." The man thought for a few seconds before his lips curled into a thin smile. "400 million it is."

Jasmine was stunned.

He just... agreed?

No haggling?

"Under one condition."

"Go on."

"You continue to handle the updates and maintenance. I'll pay you a separate salary for that, and also..."

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