Trouble in Paradise



At the banquet, I used the slight influence of alcohol to project an image of boldness and strength. I stood at the center of the stage, confidently discussing the present and future of Jones Corporation.

Over the years, Douglas had not been idle. Of the 24 shareholders, some were still holding on at Jones, while others had long since left. Christopher Newton was one of those who had left early.

As I spoke, my gaze locked directly onto Christopher. He used to be the vice president of Jones Corporation but later poached most of my core team, starting his own company.

He was now the CEO of his own company. Even Douglas, who openly mocked him, had received a subtle offer from him. It just showed how deep his schemes ran.

Aside from Douglas's abilities, he held the key to Jones Corporation's most confidential information. If

Christopher succeeded in persuading him, it could mean a fatal blow to Jones Corporation.

When I sent out the invitations for this banquet, many came just to watch the drama. In Radiant City, there were plenty of powerful families, but inviting rival companies to gather like this was rare.

Pete stood behind me. He whispered in a voice that only the two of us could hear, "It's okay, keep going. Don't be afraid."

I glanced back at Pete, sending him a grateful look. I wasn't really afraid, but standing alone like this sometimes made me feel a bit lonely.

I smiled faintly and cast a disdainful look at Christopher, curious to see how far he could tolerate me.

I deliberately asked him, "Mr. Newton, do you have any objections to what I said? My dad always praised your meticulous nature, saying that tasks entrusted to you were always completed to his satisfaction. I hope we'll have the opportunity to work together again in the future."

The murmurs from the crowd weren't pleasant. Those close to Christopher naturally spoke up for him.

"What a joke! Jones Corporation must be truly desperate to let a woman run things. They even have the half-dead Shelman family as support."

Christopher's eyes flashed with anger. But just as everyone expected him to say something harsh, he instead started to applaud.

"It just so happens my wife's birthday is coming up. How about you join us for the celebration? My wife misses you dearly. She used to say how much she felt for you, losing both parents. She even thought about adopting you so we could take care of you..."

Before he could finish, the sound of a wine glass shattering on the floor cut him off. Although the sound wasn't loud, it seemed to freeze everything. All eyes that turned toward the source of the disturbance froze in place.

Standing in the most inconspicuous corner of the banquet hall was a tall figure dressed in black. A low, hoarse voice broke the silence.

"My hand slipped. Please, continue."

Nicholas leaned casually against the wall, his long fingers toying with a half-empty wine bottle. His air of defiance made him seem particularly dangerous this evening.

With just a glance, he made Christopher shudder as if the bottle might be hurled at him at any second.

Christopher quickly changed his tone, laughing nervously. "I'm just joking, Ms. Jones. No need to take it seriously. Of course, we know we're not that lucky."Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

For the rest of the evening, I maneuvered gracefully through the crowd of nearly a hundred guests. Yet, my feet unconsciously avoided a particular area.

Nicholas's presence and his blatant show of support made it impossible for me to gauge the true attitudes of the other guests. I couldn't even decipher Nicholas's own intentions toward me.

After trying to probe Christopher and a few others without success, I could no longer maintain the fake smile plastered on my face.

Retreating to the restroom, I sighed at my reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, I heard the click of a lock.

Nicholas slipped inside, his voice tight with restrained anger.

"Ariana, are you looking for trouble? Didn't I tell you that no one would dare touch you with me around? Don't you trust me?"

He pressed closer, trapping me between his arms and the sink. The smell of alcohol filled the small space.