CHAPTER 136: COLD VENGEANCE

Meanwhile, at the Sylvincolm Restaurant.....

"Mom, is Rome coming?" Ingrid asked impatiently as she glanced at her watch for the third time.

Almost half an hour had passed since the agreed meeting time, yet there was still no sign of him.

"He’ll come soon," Rosanna replied, forcing a confident smile. "I know him, he’s not the type to ignore me completely. I already called him earlier, and he said he might bring Gabriel along. Right, Greece?"

Greece merely shrugged, swirling the glass of water in front of him with disinterest.

"I don’t know if Rome’s coming," he said flatly. "If I were you, I wouldn’t count on it. You know how he is—once he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. He looked serious when he said he was cutting ties with our family."

His indifferent tone made Ingrid stiffen in her seat, and the subtle tension didn’t escape Rosanna’s sharp eyes. Quickly, she forced a sympathetic smile and reached out to hold Ingrid’s hand.

"Oh, don’t listen to him, dear," Rosanna said sweetly. "Rome’s just... busy. He’ll be here soon."

On the inside, though, Rosanna grimaced. Just holding Ingrid’s hand almost made her skin crawl. But she had no choice.

Ingrid’s family was their company’s last lifeline, the biggest investor keeping them afloat. Ever since Rome had left the company and built his own empire, Hariston Enterprises had started to crumble.

One by one, investors withdrew their support and shifted to Rome’s side. The once-powerful Hariston Enterprises was no longer what it used to be, and now Rosanna was forced to swallow her pride and keep Ingrid close for survival.

That was why she was pretending to smile. Because if this dinner went well, if Ingrid stayed on their side—there was still a chance to restore their power.

"Greece, don’t say such things, son," Rosanna said through a tight smile, shooting her son a warning glare. "You know your brother. He’s just... stubborn. But he won’t stay mad forever. He’ll come."

Greece leaned back in his chair with a half-smile. Watching his mom and Ingrid pretend to like each other was more entertaining than he’d expected. Maybe agreeing to join them tonight wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"Anyway," Rosanna said, changing the topic before Ingrid could sense her irritation. "You really have good taste in restaurants, Ingrid. I’m surprised, you’re quite updated when it comes to the Lincolm family."

Ingrid smiled proudly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course. This place belongs to Sylvester Lincolm himself. I heard he sometimes oversees this branch personally. That’s why many influential businessmen prefer dining here—it’s the easiest way to get noticed by the Lincolms. You know how powerful they are. Even our families can’t compare."

Rosanna’s smile stiffened slightly, but she forced a polite nod. "Yes, of course. The Lincolms are... remarkable.." she said, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

"Anyway," Ingrid continued, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Now that I think about it, even though they’re remarkable, they don’t seem to know how to choose their staff properly."

Rosanna raised a brow. "Oh? You mean Sylvia?"

Ingrid smirked. "Yes. I was surprised to see her working here. Who would’ve thought someone like her would end up serving tables?"

Rosanna chuckled softly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Indeed. Maybe the Lincolm family is just too kindhearted to notice the kind of people they hire. Poor them for being so generous."

Ingrid leaned closer, lowering her voice with a sneer. "I’m surprised they even accepted her. After all, I made sure she couldn’t get a job easily after leaving Rome’s side."

Rosanna blinked. "Oh? You did that without telling me?"

Ingrid’s grin widened. "Of course, Mom. I had to protect our name somehow after she left Rome. You know I didn’t want her going around spreading that she was once connected to him—it would’ve reflected badly on our family’s reputation. I made sure she wouldn’t find a decent job no matter what she did, that she’d suffer for sure. But sadly, I can’t do anything now. The Lincolm family is far more influential than we are. Even I wouldn’t dare meddle with them."

The two exchanged a knowing look before breaking into low, malicious laughter.

But their laughter faded the moment a calm, masculine voice interrupted.

"Good evening," the man greeted smoothly. "Welcome to Sylvincolm Restaurant. I’ll be assisting you this evening."

Both Rosan and Ingrid turned—and froze.

Standing before them was none other than Sylvester Lincolm himself. He wasn’t dressed like the other servers; his crisp black vest and perfectly tailored suit made him stand out effortlessly. The quiet authority in his stance and the composed confidence in his tone left no doubt—it was him.

Rosanna’s eyes widened slightly before she quickly straightened in her seat, masking her surprise with a polite smile.

Ingrid, on the other hand, looked utterly flustered, she hadn’t expected the restaurant owner himself to approach their table.

"S-Sir Sylvester," Ingrid stammered. "We... didn’t know you’d be here tonight."

Sylvester gave a faint, polite smile, his sharp eyes sweeping over the table. "Oh, you know me? It’s always a pleasure to meet you. I occasionally stop by to check on the service, so I’m glad to assist you this evening." His gaze lingered briefly on Rosanna before shifting back to Ingrid.

As he handed them the menus, Ingrid leaned forward eagerly, trying to catch his attention. "You know, I’ve always admired how you manage your businesses, Sir Sylvester. It’s really inspiring."

Sylvester’s lips curved faintly, though his tone remained distant. "Thank you. I’m glad to know my efforts are appreciated."

He paused for a moment, his expression calm yet unreadable. "However," he continued casually, "I couldn’t help but overhear your earlier conversation about one of my staff."

Rosanna and Ingrid froze.

"If you truly admire my hard work, I hope you extend that same respect to my people. I happen to know Sylvia personally and contrary to what you were implying, she’s one of the most dedicated and capable employees we have."

The faint smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. "So if I were you, I’d be more careful about how you speak of people who work under me."

Rosanna and Ingrid exchanged uneasy glances. Neither of them had expected Sylvester to not only know Sylvia but to defend her so openly.

"Ah... haha, about that," Ingrid stammered, forcing a laugh. "I’m surprised, Mr. Sylvester, that you even know your staff by name. But, well, contrary to what you’re saying, I’ve heard she’s not exactly the employee you think she is. Maybe you just don’t know her that well yet."

Sylvester turned his gaze to her slowly. His expression remained calm, but his tone dropped colder.

"Careful, Miss," he said quietly. "I don’t tolerate anyone speaking behind my people no matter who they are. The way a person talks about others often says more about them than about the one they’re criticizing."

Ingrid blinked, startled by the quiet edge in his voice. Rosanna forced a nervous laugh, desperate to ease the tension.

"Ah, young people and their gossip," Rosanna said lightly. "Don’t mind her, Mr. Sylvester. She didn’t mean anything by it."

Sylvester didn’t respond. He simply gave a polite nod, his expression unreadable as his sharp eyes swept over the two women one last time.

"Enjoy your meal." Sylvester said before turning and walking away.

The air at the table grew heavy after he left. Ingrid fidgeted, her earlier arrogance fading fast, while Rosanna sat back in silence, unsure whether to laugh at Ingrid’s humiliation or pretend to comfort her.

**********

Meanwhile...

As soon as Sylvester left the VIP table, the mild composure on his face vanished.

A cold look took over, and every staff member who caught his eye immediately bowed their heads, afraid to meet him. He walked straight into his office.

"Oh? What’s wrong, big brother? Did someone get on your nerves?"

Stephenson teased, sprawled on the sofa and lazily chewing an apple.

Sylvester wasn’t surprised to see Stephenson, as he often visited the restaurant and liked to make himself at home in his office.

"Tsk. You already knew they’d be here, so don’t ask me about them." Sylvester snapped without looking up.

Stephenson grinned. "Relax. It’s so unusual to see the always-composed Sylvester annoyed for once. What is it this time? Don’t tell me they said bad things about Sylvia that made you like this."

At the mention of Sylvia, Sylvester’s composure finally cracked.

"Tsk. I just can’t stand it! I hate seeing them enjoy themselves after making Sylvia miserable."

Stephenson chewed another bite of his apple, brow raised. "But haven’t you already made them suffer by convincing most of their investors to leave them? Isn’t that enough?"

Sylvester’s jaw tightened. "Tsk—that’s still not enough. I want Rome Hariston to feel it too, but dealing with him is harder than I thought. I want the Haristons and everyone who made Sylvia suffer to pay."

Stephenson laughed. "Pftt—so when are you planning to topple them all? Tomorrow? Is that your birthday present for the triplets?"

"Yes. So prepare your own birthday surprise for the kids tomorrow—because I already have something planned for them." Sylvester said.

Stephenson tossed the apple core aside and pulled out his phone.

"Then I’ll call Dad to prepare our surprise too. I wonder what Sylvia’s reaction will be. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come."