Part 3His Heart Gone, System’s Die Command Comes

Peter didn't agree right away. After some back and forth, he finally conceded, offering me seven percent as compensation.

I propped my chin on my hand and watched him, my smile so genuinely joyful that it seemed to momentarily daze him.

“Deal. But Mr. Monks, I’ll need to see the share transfer agreement first.”

“Once it’s signed and sealed, I’ll come back to you, just like you want.”

The look on Peter's face was utterly grim. He had likely never been manipulated like this before, especially not by me, the one who was supposed to be pliable.

But still, he nodded. “Fine.”

Just as the word left his lips, his phone rang.

He answered, and after listening for only a moment, his entire demeanor shifted.

“I’m on my way!”

He hung up without another glance at me, tossing a clipped, “Urgent business at the office,” over his shoulder as he hurried out the door.

I raised an eyebrow, unbothered.

Half an hour later, I was scrolling through my feed when I saw a new post.

It was from Willow.

The picture showed a man’s hand, the knuckles elegant and defined, gently dabbing her forehead with a towel. On the wrist was a Patek Philippe watch.

The same one Peter had been wearing when he came to see me.

The caption read: Just a little fever, but I didn’t expect someone to be so worried about me.

I curled my lip and set my phone face down on the table.

Then I waved over at the model, who was still waiting in the wings.

“Come on back. Keep me company.”

Peter, to his credit, was efficient.

The very next morning, his lawyer delivered the share transfer agreement to my new villa.

Seven percent. In black and white.

As I signed my name, I couldn’t help but calculate Monks Corp’s net profits from the previous year.

This golden goose was far more lovable than Peter himself.

After finalizing the paperwork, I went to Monks Corp in person to register as a shareholder.

Speak of the devil.

I was stopped at the elevators by Willow.

She looked positively indignant, her eyes red-rimmed as if she were carrying the weight of Peter’s suffering on her shoulders.

“Ms. Scott, how could you do this to him?”

“He’s such a good person! How could you threaten him with a misunderstanding and blackmail him for company shares? You’re nothing but a gold digger!”

I almost laughed out loud.

I crossed my arms, looking her up and down.

“And you? What gives you the right to stand here and question me? By the way, that Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet on your wrist… I doubt you bought that yourself, did you?”

The color drained from Willow’s face.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes darted around nervously.

Just as I was about to dismiss her and leave, she lunged forward and grabbed my wrist.

Then, she used my own hand to shove herself, hard.

She crumpled to the ground like a fragile doll.

A piercing shriek echoed through the entire lobby.

And then, a man’s voice, sharp with anger and panic, roared from across the hall.

“Willow!”