CHAPTER 158: SHELL

Ephyra sauntered out of the car, her pace unhurried as Miles fell into step beside her. Her long, dark red hair cascaded freely down her back.

She wore a light beige trench coat, buttoned and cinched neatly at the waist, layered over a simple white fitted top tucked into light blue wide-leg denim jeans. A muffler was wrapped around her neck, her left hand resting casually in her coat pocket while the other held a black handbag. Chunky-heeled beige ankle boots completed the outfit, the color blending seamlessly with her coat.

The restaurant’s glass doors slid open automatically as she approached. A staff member stationed by the entrance straightened at the sight of her, offering a polite smile.

"Good afternoon, miss. May I help you? Do you have a reservation?"

Ephyra returned the smile, her voice calm and pleasant. "Rylie Carver. I’m here to meet him."

The moment the staff heard the name, surprise flashed across her face. Her posture stiffened, becoming noticeably more deferent as she bowed her head slightly. "Please, follow me. My superior will attend to you."

Ephyra simply nodded, her smile polite but distant, and followed without another word.

"Ma’am," the staff called as they approached a poised middle-aged woman dressed in a tailored blouse and pencil skirt.

"Yes, Erica?" The woman turned, an eyebrow arched.

"She’s here to meet Mr. Rylie Carver."

The woman’s eyes narrowed, immediately taking Ephyra in. "Welcome to Pearl’s Haven," she greeted with a slight nod. "May I have your name, miss?"

"Ephyra Allen."

At once, the woman tapped swiftly on the tablet in her hand, her lips curling into a polished smile. "Of course, Ms. Allen. If you’ll allow me, I’ll lead you to your room."

Ephyra nodded silently.

The walk was quiet until the woman finally stopped in front of a dark wooden door. She gestured, and a staff member quickly stepped forward to open it.

"Here," the woman said with a practiced smile.

Ephyra inclined her head in thanks and stepped inside, Miles following closely.

In the room, a man dressed in a deep blue and black suit sat lazily on the leather couch, a cigar held between his fingers. The suit—tailored jacket, crisp shirt, black tie—fit perfectly, its dark hues complementing him.

As soon as Ephyra entered, the man’s leisurely posture shifted. His gaze snapped to her, watching as she approached. Silently, he stubbed the cigar into the ashtray, his expression unreadable.

Ephyra spared him only a glance. Calmly, she removed her sunglasses and tucked them into her coat pocket. Then, unwinding the muffler from her neck, she slid out of her coat and handed both to Miles, who hung them neatly on the coat rack by the door.

She strode over to her seat, placed her bag on the chair opposite her, and finally turned her attention to the man seated across from her.

Rylie Carver leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other now nursing a glass of whiskey. He studied her with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his storm-gray eyes. "I must say," he mused, swirling the amber liquid, "you’re even more intriguing in person."

Ephyra arched a brow, the corners of her lips curving ever so slightly. "Flattery, Mr. Carver? I wasn’t expecting that."

Rylie chuckled, a low, rich sound. "Oh, but I don’t flatter, Ms. Allen. I simply state the obvious." He lifted his glass in a mock toast. "Or should I say... Mrs. Aelion?"

The name hung in the air between them like a challenge.

Ephyra’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "I see you’ve been doing your homework."

Rylie paused as if surprised, then laughed out loud.

When he stopped, he found Ephyra staring at him, her head tilted slightly to the side. "Was what I said funny in any way, Mr. Carver?"

Rylie smiled and shook his head. "Forgive me. It’s simply been a while since anyone has said those words to me the way you just did. Besides..." He shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. "It would be irresponsible of me not to."

He set the glass down, leaning forward slightly. "Married to Lyle Aelion. Now, that’s an interesting choice."

Ephyra met his gaze, unbothered. "Is it?"

He chuckled again. "Oh, undoubtedly. I was very surprised. Though, does your husband know you’re here right now?"

Ephyra tilted her head slightly, the hint of a smirk dancing on her lips. "Is that one of your questions? You must have a lot of questions, don’t you? Well, I can answer them—but you’ll have to ask."

"Really? Then I’d like to know if your husband has any idea you’re meeting with me."

"Now, Mr. Carver, saying it that way... it would almost sound like I’m cheating on my husband by meeting you. However, I’m sure you know that the relationship Lyle and I have isn’t one where love exists, so whatever scenario is going through your head won’t happen."

Rylie didn’t reply, his eyes lingering on her face as she picked up the menu and gestured toward him.

"Shall we order? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving." Ephyra proceeded to look through the menu without waiting for his reply.

After they both ordered, the servers—efficient and silent—returned in under five minutes with their food before quietly leaving the room.

Feeling Rylie’s gaze on her, Ephyra looked up to see him watching her in amusement.

"Is there something you want to say?"

"I don’t think I would have believed anyone who said you just graduated from high school and only just turned eighteen," Rylie said, his tone slightly taunting.

"Oh?" Ephyra almost snorted, having expected to hear something like that. "Surprised?"

"Very," he admitted, a grin tugging at his lips. "You don’t carry yourself like a teenager. You’re... composed. Straightforward."

You’d be surprised.

Ephyra smiled faintly. "Life tends to speed up when you’re forced into certain situations, Mr. Carver."

Rylie’s eyes gleamed with interest. "I can imagine. Especially being married to Lyle Aelion." He continued eating but then he stopped and looked at her with a smile in his eyes.

"I heard about the altercation between you and my cousin, Celine."

"Celine? Oh! Do you mean that annoying little thing I met at the boutique? She is your cousin?"

"Yes, I also heard that you made my grandfather apologize on her behalf. That hasn’t happened in a very long time."

"What? Making him apologize? Why not? It was also his fault for not teaching his child who is Celine’s parents well who in turn spoiled your cousin and made her into what she is."

Rylie nodded, "That’s a very convincing statement."

"Thank you, I don’t like being on the losing end."

"I’m starting to see that." He leaned back, swirling his drink lazily. "But I wonder... if you’re not here on your husband’s orders, what exactly do you want from me, Ms. Allen?"

Ephyra set her fork down carefully, her gaze steady. "I believe you already know the answer to that. Or at least, you have a guess."

Rylie smirked. "You want to strike a deal."

"Perhaps."

"And why would I help Lyle’s wife?" he drawled, tapping his finger lightly on the glass. "What makes you think I won’t just call him and tell him everything?"

Ephyra’s lips curled slightly, her voice soft but cutting. "Because you’re not the type to run to people and tattle tale, Mr. Carver. You’re the type who waits... until the deal benefits you."

That made Rylie pause, his amusement deepening. "Smart," he murmured. "Very smart."

He leaned forward again, elbows resting on the table. "Alright then, Mrs. Aelion. Let’s talk. What exactly do you want?"

Ephyra smiled tightly, "I want you to keep your family under control; every single one of them including your grandfather. I do not want what happened at the boutique to happen again."

Rylie’s expression turned unreadable and he stared at her straight in the eye. "And what are you offering for me to do that?"

Ephyra’s smile widened when she heard his sarcastic tone. "Latham Laboratories. Lyle told me he didn’t need it and whatever happened to it would be decided by me. Whether it disappears or it rises again but in new hands. I heard that you’ve always wanted to branch into medical experiments, especially for your little brother. So what do you say?"

"And why would I want such scraps?"

Ephyra leaned back, crossing one leg over the other as she rested her elbow on the chair’s armrest, her voice calm.

"Scraps?" she echoed with a low chuckle. "You really haven’t been paying attention, have you, Mr. Carver? After the scandal at the masquerade... when I exposed Latham and Allen for their sins—their stock prices plummeted overnight. Investors pulled out faster than rats abandoning a sinking ship. The company’s net worth dropped by nearly forty percent in less than a week."

She paused, watching Rylie’s expression carefully. "By the time the dust settled, Latham Laboratories was a shell of its former self. Banks refused loans. Partners backed out of joint projects. It was as good as dead."