CHAPTER 198: A DEVIL’S TABLE

In the following days, Aveline focused on her work, ignoring Damien’s calls, while the news channels covered stories about Ashford, from their rise to their fall, with reports that the Ashford lineage would end with Damien.

Giselle appealed to the court to revoke Damien’s absence on Tuesday, as the funeral had been completed.

On Thursday, sitting in a restaurant, Damien cursed Giselle when he received the call from the deputy chief of police, asking him to return to court.

Before he could vent, he saw Vivienne walking in, wearing a semi-formal suit layered with an overcoat to ward off the cold. There was something different about her, the spirit of a model was replaced with the confidence of a woman.

Damien hadn’t bothered to look into her after prison, so he quietly studied her now.

She didn’t flash him a smile or cower in fear at the sight of him. She just walked in, pulled the chair opposite him, and sat down.

"So?" Vivienne began. "How is prison treating you?"

Damien didn’t respond. He quietly watched her. If his guess was right, she was working at Sinclair Lifestyle alongside her father and was much closer to her family, instead of running after a wealthy man.

Vivienne shook her head as a faint smile appeared on her face. Anyway, she wasn’t there to beg him for anything. "I was pregnant when you caused the accident."

And there went Damien’s expression. He had asked his men to find her and get rid of her. However, her bodyguard had saved her. But he had no idea she was pregnant. It sparked complex emotions he wouldn’t voice.

Yes, he did plan to have a family after he got rid of Aveline. His jaw clenched, hearing he had lost his baby before it was even born.

Vivienne continued, "I went to meet Aveline Laurent, to beg her to ruin the Ashfords. And there I saw him, that man with a round hat you hated. Chairman of Marston & Co." Vivienne tilted her head. "Why did he approach Aveline Laurent?"

The round hat? Damien knew it was Simon Cladwell, the man who was using his connections to grow his roots in Velmora. But he couldn’t understand why Vivienne was interested in them.

"How would I know?" Damien shrugged, without a change in expression. He was using Simon to ruin Aveline and suffocate Alaric. He wouldn’t dare leak anything about it.

Vivienne quietly watched Damien for a few seconds but nodded anyway, considering it was purely coincidence.

"Why are you so interested in Aveline Laurent?" Damien asked in disbelief. He couldn’t believe she had met him to ask about Aveline Laurent. "You hate her."

"No." Vivienne’s response was quick. "You made me hate her." She had understood that part very clearly. "I actually began liking her. Yes, she is walking opulence I can’t afford, but that doesn’t make her arrogant. She might enjoy a yacht party, yet she humbles herself for her work. She is living the life she deserves."

And what if the Sinclairs couldn’t afford that lifestyle? Vivienne wanted to work hard and live the life she wanted.

Damien wasn’t sure how to react to that. Vivienne used to be a die-hard hater of Aveline, and now she had turned into a follower of Aveline. He wasn’t sure if it was Aveline’s strong presence or Vivienne’s fickle mind.

Nevertheless, he began considering using Vivienne, a face to give the Ashfords a bit of glory and standing in society, until he found a way out of prison.

Before he could apply his idea, Vivienne fished out a card and placed it on the table. "I’m getting married."

Damien was mind-blown.

Vivienne continued, "Arranged marriage." Her parents insisted, and she found no reason to reject when the man was fine with her history.

"I’m marrying the second son of Lewis. They are in the fashion industry; he is working as managing director in the Velmora branch."

After a beat, she added, "Don’t even try to attend the wedding or pull some crap for that piece of land. I would rather die than let you have your way." Her voice was cold and sharp.

She grabbed her bag and walked away without waiting for his response.

Damien was still getting over the fact that Vivienne was marrying, and into the Lewis family, who scaled no bigger than the Sinclairs, when she was out of his sight.

He was yet to breathe when high heels clicked the floor harder than necessary. He turned to the woman who stood tall and proud, glaring at him from beneath her sunglasses.

Seraphina flung her hand to strike across his face, but he blocked it easily. "How f**king dare you ruin my plan?" Her blood boiled, knowing she had to wait three days to meet him.

"I owe you nothing, Ms. Astor. You gave me a free pass in and out of prison; I took it." He shamelessly responded, despite knowing he could have used her for the long term.

Seraphina’s voice was low and seething, like venom slipping between her teeth. "I was helping you get out of that filthy prison, Damien. Every step, every whisper, every damn deal I made was to clear your path. And this is how you repay me? By sabotaging everything I had planned?"

Damien leaned back in his chair, arms folded, the faintest curl tugging at his lips. "Helping me?" His tone dripped with mockery.

"You weren’t helping me, Seraphina. You were helping yourself. I was just your pawn. And since I had nothing better to do behind those walls, I played along." Of course, he needed a breath of fresh air.

Her nails dug into the table, eyes glinting with fury. "Pawn? You arrogant bastard. I was this close... this close... to making Aveline Laurent lose her mind. I had her spiraling, doubting, questioning. And then you had to open your mouth, talk to her, ruin everything."

A moment passed before Damien burst out laughing, the sound so loud and unrestrained, as though he had just heard the world’s most ridiculous joke. His laughter rang through the restaurant, drawing a few curious stares from the staff.

"That’s what you think? That Alaric Lancaster, the man who shielded her when she was married to me, the man who walked into fire for her, would let her go?" He had seen how protective Alaric was of Aveline. And he knew Alaric could go to any length for her.

He scoffed. "You’re delusional, Seraphina. If anything, you underestimate him more than you underestimate Aveline Laurent."

Seraphina’s face darkened, but Damien wasn’t done. He rolled his eyes with a slow exhale. "And making her go crazy? What are you, five? That’s child’s play. Madness doesn’t destroy a woman like Aveline. She’s one of the strongest I’ve ever seen."

He felt like yesterday, how meticulously she had played when she knew what he planned, even when she knew he wanted her dead, her will never cracked.

He voiced his thoughts: "Her strength is unmatched. Not even you, Seraphina Astor, could match a single strand of her hair."

The insult struck like a blade. Seraphina’s lips curled sharply, her voice laced with venom. "You speak too highly of the woman who manipulated you, tricked you, and left you crawling in prison. You think her strength is unmatched?"

Damien smirked, unbothered. "And weren’t you the one who dreamed of sitting in the president’s chair since you were a teenager? You, the perfect prodigy, groomed to rule. And yet, the moment you stood against her, you fell headfirst into the pit she dug."

Her chest heaved, breath sharp, her composure slipping through her fingers. She had walked in thinking Damien might still be an asset, a weapon in her hand. But hearing him praise Aveline was unbearable.

She pushed back her chair abruptly. "Die in prison, Damien." Her hiss cut the air as she stood, ready to storm out.

Before she could move, another chair scraped against the floor. A man in a tailored suit lowered himself beside her with unhurried grace. Theodore Marston’s presence brought a chill with it, his smile nothing more than a shadow.

Seraphina turned to leave, but Damien’s sharp command rang across the table. "Sit."

For a brief moment, the air stilled. She sat back down, her jaw tight.

Theodore’s gaze swept over her, unimpressed. "She’s of no use to me," he said flatly, shrugging as though dismissing a child.

Seraphina snapped, voice rising. "How dare you..."

"Enough!" Damien’s glare cut through both of them. His voice hardened. "If either of you wants a chance to bring down Aveline and Alaric, you’ll stop playing children’s games and start using each other’s damn connections."

Seraphina barked a bitter laugh. "Bring down the Lancasters? Impossible. As long as Alaric breathes, the family will stand."

Theodore leaned back, his jaw clenched. "I’m not interested in working with anyone. Aveline doubts everything. One slip, and she’d drown me with all my wealth."

Damien’s patience snapped. He slammed his palm against the table. His eyes burned with contempt. "Use each other’s f**king connections or rot uselessly."

His gaze shifted to Seraphina. "You, Seraphina, do your homework before barking. Your husband’s heirship is a title for show. Alaric doesn’t just inherit the DeConti and Isabella’s assets, he’ll wield Giselle’s share and a part of Lancaster, too. That’s the man you have to fight."

He leaned in, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "If you’re not ready to work together, then get the hell out of my sight."