My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55: The art of war

I didn’t go up.

Walking into the lion’s den when the lion has just invited you for dinner is a rookie mistake. Instead, I told the driver to drive. We circled the block twice before heading back to campus, just to make sure Richard hadn’t decided to return the favor and tail me.

Back in my apartment, I plugged the flash drive into my laptop. My hands were steady, but my mind was racing. Richard knew. He knew about Sofia. He knew about me. He was steps ahead, playing a game I hadn’t even realized had started.

I opened the files.

At first glance, they looked legitimate. Spreadsheets of subsidiary performance, emails between CEOs complaining about Victoria’s leadership, projected losses for the next quarter. It was exactly what a mutiny looked like.

But then I looked closer.

I used [Analyze], a low-level skill I’d picked up during the Thorne investigation. It highlighted patterns, inconsistencies.

The dates on the emails were slightly off—sent on Sundays or holidays when corporate servers were usually down for maintenance. The projected losses were too uniform, too perfectly calculated to cause maximum panic without triggering an audit.

It was a fabrication. A masterpiece of corporate fiction.

If I had taken this to Victoria, if I had presented this as proof of Richard’s betrayal, she would have acted on it. She would have fired the CEOs listed here. And when the dust settled, she would have realized she had just fired her most loyal lieutenants, leaving the real traitors—Richard’s actual allies—untouched.

He had tried to use me to purge his enemies for him.

"Clever bastard," I whispered.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen. Richard Sterling wasn’t just protecting himself; he was counter-attacking. He was using Sofia’s ambition and my eagerness against us.

My phone buzzed.

Victoria Sterling: Lunch. Tomorrow. 1:00 PM. The Club.

It wasn’t a request.

The Sterling Club was old money personified. Dark wood, leather chairs, and the smell of cigars that had been smoked by men who owned railroads. Women were only allowed in as guests, a rule Victoria seemed to enjoy breaking every time she walked through the doors as the owner.

She was waiting for me at her usual table. She didn’t stand. She didn’t smile. She was reading a report on a tablet, her face a mask of concentration.

"Sit," she said without looking up.

I sat. A waiter appeared instantly, pouring water and disappearing like a ghost.

"Tell me you have something," Victoria said, finally setting the tablet down. Her eyes were cold, assessing. "Richard is making moves. I can feel it. The board is restless."

"I have something," I said carefully. "But not what you think."

I told her about the flash drive. About the fake mutiny. About Richard’s attempt to trick us into firing her allies.

Victoria listened in silence. She didn’t look surprised. She didn’t look angry. She looked... bored.

"So you found a trap," she said, picking up her fork. "Congratulations. You didn’t step in it. But you didn’t disarm it, either."

"I stopped you from making a mistake," I countered.

"I don’t want you to stop mistakes, Jake," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I want you to remove obstacles. Richard is still standing. He’s still plotting. And now he knows you’re watching him."

She took a bite of her salad, chewing slowly.

"You’re playing defense," she said. "I need offense. I need you to find something real. Something he can’t fake. A vice. A secret. A weakness."

"He’s careful," I said. "He’s smart."

"Everyone has a weakness," Victoria said dismissively. "Find it. Or I’ll find someone who can."

The threat hung in the air between us. It wasn’t just about the job. It was about the mission. If she replaced me, I failed. If I failed, I died.

"I’ll find it," I said.

"Good," she said, turning back to her tablet. "Now eat. You look thin."

The dismissal was absolute. There was no romance here. No seduction. To her, I was a tool that was slightly malfunctioning.

I ate in silence, the food tasting like ash.

I returned to campus in a foul mood. The pressure was mounting. Victoria was losing patience. Richard was mocking me. And the System was ticking down.

I needed a win. Any win.

I walked into the library, looking for a quiet place to think. To strategize.

"Well, look who it is," a voice drawled.

I looked up. Brad and Roger were blocking the aisle. They were grinning, that predatory grin of bullies who think they’ve found a victim.

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