CHAPTER 153: PAWNS & KINGS

At the Visitor Room, in prison,

Damien’s expression darkened the instant it landed on Theodore. The muscles in his jaw flexed. He marched forward, dropped into the chair like he was forced, and grabbed the intercom from its holder.

The line crackled before his low voice came through, rough, and seething. "What the f*ck are you here for? To gloat at my misfortune?"

His lip curled venomously. "Simon Cladwell," he uttered the name like it burned his tongue, "get your smug face out of my sight before you find yourself rotting in the next cell over."

Theodore aka Simon’s lips curled up. A smile that was colder and promised nothing good.

Damien’s arrogance hadn’t changed, not even in a prison uniform, not even stripped of his empire.

"I’m not the villain in your life, Damien," Theodore said deliberately, his tone a quiet blade.

Damien almost rolled his eyes. "I am the villain, and I’ll be out soon enough." He believed it was the small slip-up that caused his imprisonment.

Theodore’s laugh rang out in the visitor’s room, sharp and joyous, as if Damien had just told the funniest joke in the world. He shook his head slowly, still grinning, until Damien’s irritation reached boiling point.

"If you came here to laugh," Damien snapped, "you can f*ck right off."

Unbothered, Theodore leaned forward, speaking slowly, each word precise. "No, Damien. The villain in your life... is Aveline Laurent."

Damien’s head jerked up, a frown pulling at his brow. "What nonsense?" he didn’t believe Theodore.

To Damien, Aveline was a docile, clueless woman who trailed after her father like a puppet.

Theodore didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as twitch at Damien’s words. And that was when Damien’s smirk began to fade.

"Nine years in business, Damien. You never slipped. Not once. And then..." Theodore’s voice dipped, almost conversational. "Out of nowhere, your wife became the largest shareholder. The woman you married to serve your purpose." He uttered each word as clear as crystal.

Damien’s fingers tightened around the intercom. His breath stuck in his throat, though a part of him refused to believe his words, another part had begun to doubt Aveline.

"As soon as I received an email from Charlie Harmon," Theodore continued, recounting from the beginning, "I kept my eyes on Aveline Laurent. No matriarch would trust a daughter-in-law over a grandson. Yet, she held the power of attorney."

He paused, reading Damien’s slow realization. "That’s when I learned about Alaric De’conti Lancaster. The man who was supposed to treat her like a client. But there was more... so much more."

Damien’s expression hardened hearing it. Aveline avoided Alaric on his words. didn’t she?

Theodore continued "Their frequent meetings. Late-night conversations. Lunches. Dinners..." His voice trailed, recalling the couple.

He snickered, "Your sweet little wife was playing right under your nose."

Damien’s jaw clenched. He recalled the times he caught her red-handed. Yet, how smoothly she escaped with lies, blamed him, cried at his actions, and soothed him by accepting his anger.

Theodore continued, "You know who planted the seed of divorce in your mind?" He didn’t ask to get the response. He had already looked into all the details in the past weeks. "Clara Reeve."

She didn’t let Damien think of a different solution, imposing that it was the only solution. That’s where he slipped right into Aveline’s plan.

Theodore’s tone was almost light, but the weight behind it was heavy. "You know why she suggested it?"

Damien’s eyes narrowed. He already had the answer on his tongue, but he quietly heard Theodore instead.

"Because Aveline met her. Challenged her. Threatened to destroy her career as long as she remained your wife."

Damien gritted his teeth. He wasn’t shocked, but how smoothly Aveline had manipulated them was mindblowing.

Theodore didn’t stop there. "You know who was protecting the Laurent mansion the day of my threat?" He paused, letting Damien make the guess, "Apex."

Damien’s breathing was rugged as he continued to hear Theodore and his eyes were red.

Theodore continued, "You know who was in the car with Aveline when my men attacked her? Alaric Lancaster.

You know who helped Vivienne Sinclair hide from your radar? Alaric Lancaster.

You know who Vivienne met after running from the Starlink apartment? Aveline Laurent."

Damien’s breathing had turned shallow, but Theodore’s voice only grew steadier.

"All along, you thought you were controlling Aveline and Vivienne... but it was Aveline, quietly pulling strings from the shadows. Every move. Every step."

He leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming. "And Daniel Anderson? He was caught by Henry Laurent’s men."

Damien’s eyes widened. No doubt his men never got the chance to learn his location.

Theodore continued, "I wondered... how could Henry stay so quiet without harming you or the Ashfords? Then I learned he wasn’t on vacation with his wife. He was dismantling your empire, Damien Ashford."

Damien’s fingers twitched against the glass as if he wanted to shatter it. But with the cops at the door, he could only swallow down his rage.

Theodore reached the papers he brought inside. He began pulling out one after the other and held them against the glass.

Aveline and Alaric were holding hands in a picture. In another, they were smiling, in another, they were in an intimate hug. It didn’t stop there, they were dancing in another picture and going in a car together.

Each image hit like a hammer to Damien.

"And Damien..." Theodore’s tone was softer now, almost pitying. "Lancaster acquiring Ashford Holdings? That wasn’t Alaric’s move. It was Edward’s. Because they knew you were the man behind the power cut at the event."

Damien’s gaze was burning with rage. He wasn’t able to accept that he was played by a woman. And why would Alaric help her?

Love?

He didn’t believe in that bullshit.

"And Gabriel Fournier?" Theodore’s mouth curved faintly. "Not just Scarlett’s brother, but Aveline’s ex. The day they acquired Prestige Law, it wasn’t just business. It was personal."

Damien could only grit his teeth. He knew he shouldn’t touch a fournier. But he didn’t mean harm Scarlett, he just wanted to use her.

But if Aveline knew all these, Damien was certain Scarlett was aware from the beginning that he was up to no good.

Theodore’s voice sharpened. "You thought the plans executed smoothly because you planned them? Think again. She let you plan it. They fed you the pieces. Because from the very beginning... Aveline doubted you. And she set the traps herself."

After a brief silence, Theodore continued, "But I don’t understand one thing. How did Aveline Laurent know about Elias Hawthrowe? Giselle Lancaster had her eyes on him, and as soon as Elias slipped, she took the chance, reopening the poison case."

His eyes hardened on Damien, "Damien, you are never going to step out of prison. Aveline Laurent woven the web around you, Giselle Lancaster wouldn’t lose a case."

The silence between them was heavy enough to crush bone.

Damien sat there, motionless, his pulse pounding in his ears. The truth was raw and bitter, it was laid bare in front of him, and the weight of it pressed down until he could barely breathe.

He had been played. Cornered. Stripped of control like a fool in his own game.

And it wasn’t just Aveline’s betrayal that burned in his veins, it was Alaric’s smug, calculating hand in the shadows.

His fists tightened until his knuckles whitened. He imagined their faces, hers, serene and smug, and his, sharp with that infuriating confidence. Rage curled through his gut like smoke, thick and suffocating.

But beneath that fury, a sharper thought cut through, Theodore Marston didn’t pity people. He didn’t walk into prisons to hand-feed someone the details of their downfall unless it served him. Which meant...

Damien’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer to the glass. "Why," he asked slowly, voice low and edged, "are you telling me this, Simon?"

Theodore’s lips curled, not in warmth, but in the kind of smile a predator gives when the prey realizes it’s been cornered twice.

"I’m not here to help you, Damien," he said, his voice smooth, deliberate. "But you and I... we have a common enemy."

Damien’s mind raced. Aveline Laurent!? An enemy of Theodore? It didn’t make sense. Not unless...

Theodore cut through his unspoken thoughts. "Victor Hale," he said, his tone sharpening. "My most loyal man. Your former chief of security. Currently in military custody. And soon..." he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with quiet menace, "...he’ll be hanged for his crimes. Do you know who put him there?"

He let the silence answer for him. "Aveline Laurent. She rattled him out to destory you."

Damien’s brows twitched. The spark of his rage flared into something darker. His lips twisted into a humorless snicker. "So... you want her buried six feet under? That’s something I can work with."

"That’s exactly why I’m here," Theodore said. "You still have connections. Resources. Even rotting in here, you have hands in Velmora’s business field that I don’t. I want those hands working for me."

Damien tilted his head. "And in return?"

Theodore’s voice dropped to a murmur, each word precise, lethal. "I’ll dismantle her world. Piece by piece. I’ll make her think she’s winning, put her exactly where I want her. And then..." His smile was cold steel. "...I’ll play her like a pawn on the board, until there’s nothing left of Aveline Laurent but dust."