The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 47

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Chapter 47 When The Hunt Quietly Began

Xan was on his third whiskey. He stood at the wall of glass in the penthouse, but he wasn’t seeing the city lights. He was seeing her. The way her back had looked, straight and unbreakable in that black dress, as she walked away from him. The memory was a physical pain like a hot knife twisting behind his ribs.

The news played on a silent loop on the screen behind him–his father–in–law that never was, Kieran Nethys, dabbing at fake tears and talking about forgiveness and powerful new family connections. The sound was off, but Xan could hear the slimy, triumphant tone in his head. The man was using their humiliation as a ladder.

His mother’s voice cut through the thick, angry silence like a shard of ice. “A buffet table, Aris. She left him at a buffet table. The shrimp cocktail was still on the ice!”

“Enough, Evanthe,” his father’s voice rumbled, low and dangerous. Aris Valdris stood like a general surveying a lost battlefield. His anger wasn’t hot like Xan’s; it was a glacial, scheming cold that could freeze blood.

Xan finally turned from the window, the whiskey glass clenched so tight in his hand he was surprised it didn’t crack. “He’s parading around like he won. Like his daughter landed some great prize. Vex is a dead man walking. What is there to win?”

“That is exactly the point you are missing,” Aris said, his flinty eyes pinning his son. “It doesn’t matter what Vex is. It matters what people think he is. And right now, thanks to that simpering fool on television, people think Kieran Nethys has his hooks into the Vex empire. That makes him untouchable. That makes us look weak for losing her.”

Evanthe paced, her rage was a silent scream in her perfect posture. “We need to remind them. We need to remind everyone what happens when you cross this family.”

“How?” Xan snapped, throwing his arms wide. “Send a threatening note? Burn down his house? Vex has security that makes ours look small. Have you forgotten he’s a ghost?”

“We don’t touch Vex,” Aris said, his voice slicing through the room. He walked to the bar and poured himself two fingers of bourbon, the ritual slow and deliberate. “We make Kieran Nethys’s life a living hell. Slowly and quietly. Every deal he tries to make falls through. Every one of his friends gets a quiet warning. Every door he thinks is opening slams shut in his face. We isolate him. Let him stand on his stage and give his speeches to an empty room.”

Xan’s mind began to cool, the alcohol and fury shifting into something sharper, more focused. His father’s plan was a scalpel and not a hammer, but it was better.