Chapter 843:
Then a voice broke through the chatter — smooth, loud, and edged with provocation.
“The business world never stops turning,” the guest declared. “Old powers fade, and new ones rise. It’s the natural order. After all, refusing to make way for the young only slows progress, don’t you think?”
The room went still for a moment. No names were mentioned, yet everyone knew the barb was aimed straight at Brad. A few guests murmured in agreement, their glances at Brad carrying a mix of pity and thinly veiled scorn.
“Mr. Morgan’s been through a lot,” one said lightly. “Age catches up with everyone. It’s normal to feel worn down.”
“True,” another chimed in. “Stepping away from that position must’ve been quite a blow.”
“I heard the Morgan Group lost several contracts today,” a third added with false sympathy. “When the mighty fall, there’s never a shortage of people waiting to push them further down.”
The comments were just loud enough to reach Brad’s ears.
Rylie shot him a quick look. He seemed completely unbothered, his posture easy and relaxed.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked quietly.
Brad stared out at the inky sea, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “It’s necessary to teach them a lesson, lest they truly overstep.”
Rylie didn’t press him further. She knew him well enough to recognize the edge in his calm. Whatever he was plotting, she’d see it unfold soon enough.
The faint thrum of helicopter blades grew louder, building into a deep, rhythmic pulse. A powerful beam of light cut across the night sky, casting a white glow over the ship’s helipad.
“They’re here! The Havenridge team’s arrived!” someone shouted, their voice trembling with excitement.
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All heads turned toward the entrance as the automatic glass doors slid open. The salty breeze rushed in, carrying the echo of spinning rotors.
Guests stepped aside instinctively, eyes fixed on the doorway. Johnny straightened his tie, his grin brimming with confidence. This was his moment.
He could almost see himself holding the contract, basking in the admiration and congratulations of the entire room.
Moments later, a group of sharply dressed professionals entered, led by a poised woman in her forties. Her gold-rimmed glasses caught the light as she strode forward, a sealed black document case clutched firmly in her hand. Her gaze swept the room with quiet authority.
“Which one of you is Mr. Morgan?” she asked, her voice clear and steady.
Brimming with excitement, Johnny stepped forward at once, his smile polished and calm. “That’s me. I’m Johnny Reid. Welcome, and thank you for coming all this way tonight.”
Before he could extend his hand any farther, the woman in gold-rimmed glasses studied him with a faint frown. Her gaze lingered, cool and assessing, before she said clearly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Reid, but I meant Mr. Brad Morgan.”
Johnny froze, his hand still half-raised. “Wh-what?” The word barely left his lips.
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