My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45: A real threat

The Sterling estate wasn’t a house; it was a fortress of old money.

A long, winding driveway lined with ancient oaks led to a mansion that looked like it had been airlifted from the French countryside. Valets in white jackets swarmed the entrance, opening doors for senators, CEOs, and socialites.

Elena’s hand tightened on my arm as we stepped out of the car.

"Shoulders back," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Chin up. You belong here."

I didn’t need the reminder. The [Shadow Tuxedo] was doing its job. I felt the weight of the fabric, the perfect cut. I felt... dangerous.

We walked up the grand staircase. Flashbulbs popped.

"Dean Vance!" a reporter shouted. "A word on the grant hearing?"

Elena didn’t stop. She smiled—a dazzling, practiced smile—and kept moving.

"No comment tonight, boys. Just enjoying the evening."

We entered the ballroom.

It was breathtaking. A sea of black ties and designer gowns under a ceiling painted with cherubs. A live orchestra played waltzes. Waiters circulated with champagne.

But the real show was the people.

I scanned the room.

[Social Scan: Active]

[Target: The Mayor (Table 1)]

[Target: CEO of TechCorp (Table 3)]

[Target: Victoria Sterling (Center Stage)]

Victoria was holding court near the fountain in the center of the room. She wore a gown of ice-blue silk that matched her eyes, diamonds dripping from her ears. She was laughing at something a senator said, but her eyes were scanning the entrance.

They landed on me.

Her smile didn’t falter, but her gaze sharpened. She raised her champagne glass in a silent toast.

Elena saw it. Her grip on my arm turned into a vice.

"Ignore her," she hissed. "We have a table."

We moved toward Table 1. The Mayor was there, already drunk on expensive scotch. The Provost was there, looking miserable next to his wife.

And then I saw him.

Sitting at the far end of the table, looking like a shark in a bespoke suit, was Marcus Thorne.

He wasn’t just the owner of Vanguard Holdings, the private equity firm that practically owned half the city’s skyline. He was also the Finance Chairman, and he was the man who had tried to have me expelled.

Elena froze.

"Thorne," she whispered. "He wasn’t on the guest list."

"He must’ve bought his way in," I said, my voice low. "Vanguard just closed a deal with the Sterling Foundation. He’s most likely here to collect."

Thorne stood up as we approached. He didn’t smile. His eyes were cold, dead things.

"Dean Vance," he said, his voice smooth but heavy with menace. "And Hart. Still standing, I see."

"Disappointed?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

"Patient," Thorne corrected. "Vanguard plays the long game, Jake. And luck runs out."

He extended a hand. It wasn’t a greeting; it was a challenge.

I took it. His grip was crushing, intended to dominate. I squeezed back, using [Stamina: 12.5] to hold my own.

"I don’t rely on luck, Marcus," I said, dropping the honorific. "I’m always prepared."

Thorne’s eyes narrowed slightly. He released my hand.

"We’ll see," he said. "Enjoy the soup. It might be your last meal at this table."

He sat back down, dismissing us.

We took our seats. The tension at the table was thick enough to choke on. The Provost was sweating. The Mayor was oblivious. Thorne was watching everything, like a spider in the center of a web.

"He’s planning something tonight," Elena whispered to me, picking up her napkin. Her hand was trembling slightly. "He’s not just here to gloat, there must be something else."

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