Meanwhile, after the others had left, Silva remained in the conference room with her father.
"Do you have any intel on what he's up to?"
Lucius asked.
"So desperate, isn't he?"
Silva thought, masking her smirk with a look of calm seriousness.
"He just returned from a meeting. If I had to guess, the probability that he's contacting more allies is quite high. But I'm not entirely sure yet—I'll need to verify it first. If it turns out he does have allies, I'll inform you immediately,"
Silva said, maintaining a professional tone.
"I have to tread carefully here. Not too much information… not too little. Just the right amount to stay relevant and protected."
She thought, watching her father closely.
Lucius sat in silence for a moment, his mind spinning with unease.
"This is getting serious. And the truth is—I don't know if I can even trust her yet. But this fear of losing everything… it won't let go."
His gaze turned cold as he studied his daughter.
"Alright. Continue to keep an eye on him—and report everything back to me."
Lucius ordered firmly.
"Of course, dear father,"
Silva replied with a faint smile as she turned to leave.
Then, she glanced back over her shoulder.
"Rest assured, Father. After all… I'm a Lucius too."
With that, she walked out, a sly smirk forming on her lips.
"Now… just a few more pieces to move on my board."
She thought, exiting the room with silent determination.
The wind blew gently as Silva walked down the hallway, feeling oddly calm, almost serene.
"How I wish my life were truly this peaceful,"
she thought, gazing coldly at her hand as the breeze brushed against her skin.
Suddenly, a jarring presence loomed behind her—sending a chill down her spine.
Before she could react, a hand grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall.
"Richard!!…"
Her heart jumped in terror, though her face remained icy and composed.
"Is all of this just your way of getting revenge on him?"
Richard asked coldly, eyes boring into hers.
Silva smirked, meeting his gaze with calculated boldness.
"Freeing myself from him would probably hurt like last time. So… why not play with him first? Twist the knife a little. Let him chase shadows."
"I take it my last warning went in one ear and out the other,"
she said confidently, her smirk deepening.
"But I'll admit—I didn't expect you to show up at this meeting, How unusual don't you think?."
She tilted her head mockingly.
"Shouldn't your meetings with him be more… special? Just the two of you, as usual?"
"After all, you're his ideal son. The next successor, right?"
Her words dripped with sarcasm, sharp as a dagger.
"His decisions have nothing to do with me,"
Richard replied flatly, his face unreadable.
"Ah, the loyal pet routine."
Silva thought darkly, biting back the urge to sneer.
"Just looking at you disgusts me. But I won't let that show—not yet."
"I suppose that's why you're his favorite,"
she said, forcing the word out despite the bile it brought to her throat.
"Now let me go,"
"I can't afford to keep my husband waiting too long."
Her smile returned, smooth and composed.
A mask of confidence—hiding the venom just beneath.
Suddenly, Richard's grip tightened around her wrist.He didn't speak—just stared at her coldly, eyes like ice.
"GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF ME!"
Silva issued siniterly as the sharp pain coursed through her hand.
"I'm sure you haven't forgotten about that,"
Richard finally said, his voice low and controlled.
Then, without warning, he released her and stepped back.
Silva turned and walked away, biting down her fury.
"Can't believe I just had a conversation with him,"
she thought, her lips curling into a smile of disgust.
"The nerve to bring up Bailey… that damned bastardized Pet."
She stopped in her tracks, turned, and glared at him standing there like a statue. Her smirk returned.
"Who exactly are you talking about?"
Richard stepped closer, lifting a hand to brush her cheek—a touch that made her skin crawl—then leaned in to whisper,
"You know exactly who I'm talking about, Silva. But if you need a reminder, I don't mind spelling it out… I'm talking about your beloved nanny—Bailey. That delusional bin of trash."
"As disgusting as it is to be touched by this clown… that was too far."
The thought blazed through her mind as her palm struck him sharply across the face, the sound echoing down the hallway.
"Congratulations. You got what you wanted,"
Silva said, staring him dead in the eye with a dangerous smile.
Richard slowly turned his head back, unfazed, as it only stings a bit.
He didn't say a word, just watched her walk away.
"Next time, I'll make sure you get it on both sides,"
she called out coolly over her shoulder, heels clicking as she vanished down the hall.
A few minutes later, Silva slid into her car and slammed the door shut. Her head dropped against the steering wheel, and she punched the dashboard in frustration.
"Don't get angry… he's just trying to provoke you, Silva."
She took a deep breath, calming herself as she gazed out the window.
"All these years, I've always wondered what goes on in that head of his… That blank, emotionless face—like a dead man walking."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Is he really just Lucius's killing machine? An Empty soul shaped into loyalty or is there something more going on in his head?"
Her fingers drummed the steering wheel.
"I doubt it. Beneath that cold exterior… maybe there's more than he lets on."
Just then, she opened the door and stepped out.
"Almost forgot something important—thanks to that clown."
Before she could move, her phone buzzed. Claudia was calling.
"Ma'am, the master just returned to the villa," Claudia reported.
Silva's eyes flew open in alarm.