THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY. Chapter 18

The man seated two chairs down added, "And the kind of level where they don’t want people assuming too much, too early. They want the freedom to confirm quietly, behind closed doors, not under flashing lights and award speeches."

Bartholow looked Jas in the eyes again, then said, "But from everything we’re hearing—and I an everything we’ve heard long before this event—the story has always been the sa. It’s done. You’re the one. The Victor family has already chosen. This public announcent is a smokescreen."

There was a pause in the room. The kind of pause that hung with silent validation.

"Because the Victors don’t flip decisions on a whim," Bartholow said finally. "They don’t change their minds the night before the biggest contract reveal in the region’s history. That’s not even possible."

At that mont, hearing what Bartholow just said, Jas couldn’t stop the wide grin spreading across his face. He leaned slightly into the backrest of his chair, his once-tense shoulders finally relaxing.

All the weight that had been sitting heavily on his chest since the incident at the Victor event began to fade. The sha, the fear, the rising doubt—all of it felt like vapor now, disappearing into the air as the truth beca clear.

So the Victor family wasn’t abandoning him. They weren’t pulling out of the deal because of Cora or so random, humiliating slap that went viral on half the social dia platforms. No, none of that. They were just trying to take the pressure off. Quietly.

Jas chuckled to himself. Not loud, just enough to feel it roll in his throat. "So this was all part of the plan?" he thought, amused. "They could’ve just told that from the start. Would’ve saved from dying ten tis inside today."

But hearing it now—from Bartholow Ainsley, of all people—ant it wasn’t a bluff.

Bartholow didn’t deal in shadows and small talk. The Ainsley family might not be Victor-level in wealth, but when it ca to influence? They were kingmakers. In every major city, there was always a trace of their pull behind every major investnt. Their mastery was in building strong alliances, in connecting ten powerful n and turning them into one unstoppable machine. If Bartholow said the Victors were still on track with Jas, then Jas believed it.

Deep inside, Jas felt his heartbeat settle into a rhythm of confidence again. The contract wasn’t lost. If anything, the ga was still his to lose—or win. The Victor family may not have handed him the prize yet, but he was already sitting closer to it than anyone else.

And he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

He adjusted his sleeves, and his gaze drifted across the table at the other n seated—silent, calm, observant. They were watching him too, asuring his reactions, waiting to see if the Jas Lewis they had heard about still carried the sa fire. And from the way their eyes softened and heads slowly nodded, he could tell—they saw it. They knew.

At that mont, Bartholow reached out to the edge of the table and picked up a sleek leather folder. With practiced ease, he opened it and revealed a stack of printed docunts.

Then, with a small but decisive smile, he looked at Jas and said, "Well, we have a business proposal for you. We have sothing that is going to be beneficial to all of us here. So that is the real reason why we actually called you—to discuss business."

Upon hearing what they just said those words, "we have a business proposal for you" Jas couldn’t help himself. His lips slowly stretched into a wide, satisfied grin. He folded his arms and leaned slightly back in his chair, not with arrogance, but with a calm confidence that had returned to him like an old friend.

They didn’t need to spell it out anymore.

The mont Bartholow opened that folder, the mont those neatly arranged docunts sat on the table like gold waiting to be claid, Jas already knew what was going on. The tide had never turned against him it had only paused, perhaps retreated a little like the sea preparing to surge forward again. And now, the waves were returning, bigger and louder than before.

Jas stole a quick glance at Bartholow, then at the four other well-dressed n at the table. All of them held a kind of quiet authority the kind of n who didn’t show respect to just anyone. Yet right now, they were looking at him. Not as soone who had failed. Not as soone who had been slapped in public. But as soone they still needed. As soone still valuable.

The power was still there. He could feel it in his bones.

And the best part? The Victor contract wasn’t gone.

In fact, if anyone in this city knew what was truly going on behind the Victor family’s careful silence, it was Bartholow Ainsley. That man didn’t waste words, and he didn’t attend etings unless the matter had weight. So if he sat here, looked Jas in the eyes, and said the Victor family was only diffusing pressure then it was real.

Jas took a slow breath, he could feel the pride stirring in his chest again. That fire that almost got snuffed out by Cora’s interruption, the public humiliation, the fear that his career was slipping through his fingers it all began to shrink into nothing. A forgotten mory.

He was back, and the image of Cora smiling at him earlier now felt laughable. What exactly did she win? A few stares? A slap? A mont of drama? Nothing more. She hadn’t ruined him. She hadn’t shaken the ground beneath his feet. All she did was throw a spark into a bonfire that couldn’t be touched.

He wasn’t going to fall, If anything, he had beco even more valuable now. After all the noise, here he was again seated in a room of n who mattered, being offered business like a king returning to his court.

He chuckled quietly to himself.

He thought he actually lost it. He thought Cora actually won. But from the look of things, he didn’t lose anything and Cora didn’t win anything. He is just going to be smiling and at the sa ti laughing, because he is still the Jas that everybody wants to be around, he is still the Jas that everybody wants to be with, so he is just going to be smiling.