Larissa Judson and Haskell Palmer novel Chapter 696

“Damn it! That bitch Larissa!” Milton seethed, staring at her replies. “We’ll see if she lives to see tomorrow!”

Honora read the exchange over his shoulder, understanding his fury. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white.

“Why?” she fumed silently. “Why do I have to smile and grovel before idiots like Milton, while Larissa gets to insult him so openly?”

It was so unfair. Everything Larissa had—her status, her confidence—it should have been hers!

...

Lying in bed, Larissa replied to Milton’s taunts in the group chat and then saw a message from her secretary, Ursa.

[Ms. Judson, what’s going on with Ruby Rhythm? I just listened to three of Leopold’s songs, and I can confirm they’re nothing compared to yours. I was about to check the feedback on Ruby Rhythm, but the server is down. It’s driving me crazy.]

Larissa smiled and typed back: [If you’ve already heard my songs, what’s the rush?]

[Because I know how heavenly your music is! Leopold’s new stuff can’t even compare! I wanted to see the fallout from the beatdown immediately! But then Ruby Rhythm had to crash! I knew we should have had a backup plan. We shouldn’t have put all our eggs in one basket!]

Larissa replied: [Don’t worry. I had them do it on purpose.]

Ursa: [What? Why?]

Larissa: [Because I want everyone following this to listen to Leopold’s songs first. Then they can listen to mine for comparison.]

Ursa: [!!! I GET IT!]

A new message from Haskell came through.

[Was the server crash on Ruby Rhythm a deliberate move you arranged beforehand?]

Lucius glanced at his assistant, who immediately understood and turned off the music playing in the private room. The once-noisy space fell into a heavy, pin-drop silence.

“Finally!” Milton exclaimed.

He navigated to the new releases section and clicked on Larissa’s promotional page. The title banner read: “Let Them Rage”.

“Damn, that’s an arrogant title. Let’s see if her music has the same attitude,” he grumbled, refreshing the page. He saw the three song titles in the player.

“‘False Prosperity,’ ‘I’ll Ferry You from Sorrow,’ and ‘Wildfire.’ These names are just as pretentious as she is.”

He hit play on the first track, turned the volume to maximum, and tossed the phone onto the table.

Lucius lit a cigar, leaned back against the sofa, and fixed his eyes on the phone. The music began to swell from its speakers.