Chapter 583 David's Frightening Nature
The Valdemar Mansion, David's Room
The atmosphere in the room was suffocating. David and Violet faced each other with stony expressions, neither willing to yield an inch.
David's penetrating gaze locked onto Violet, searching for any sign of weakness. His fingers were interlaced, index fingers tapping rhythmically against the back of his hand—a subtle pressure tactic he'd perfected over the years.
Violet met his stare unflinchingly, her composure intact. Her eyes remained steady, the corner of her mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smirk.
"This isn't a game," David said coldly. "When will you send me all the files?"
His tone brooked no argument—a command rather than a question.
Violet let out a soft, detached laugh. "David, since you understand our arrangement is merely transactional, you should know I'll proceed step by step. I'm not about to show all my cards at once."
Her voice was clear and resolute, each word like an icicle piercing his ears.
Their gazes clashed, invisible currents of tension crackling between them.
"I understand your reservations," David said, furrowing his brow. "But I need to know what your cards are worth. How exactly will Yvette's medical records benefit me?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Violet's eyes. "David, don't you love Yvette? Shouldn't information about her health be valuable to you?"
David responded with a derisive chuckle, his silence speaking volumes.
"Don't tell me your love for Yvette was all an act?" Violet said, genuinely startled. "That would make you truly terrifying, David!"
His lips curled into a momentary smirk before his face returned to its expressionless state. "Just tell me what your next move is."
Violet studied his fathomless eyes, trying to discern his true intentions but finding only profound coldness.
She drew in a sharp breath, unnerved by what she saw in him. Then, reconsidering, she realized his ruthlessness could serve her purposes.
"Your love may be pretense, but Albert's certainly isn't," Violet said, pressing her lips together. "To Albert, anyone who could save Yvette would be more important than a messiah."
David's eyes flashed with impatience. "What does that have to do with me?"
"Wouldn't it be perfect if Albert were willing to sacrifice everything he has to save Yvette?" Violet suggested, carefully measuring her words. "If we find the person and the treatment that could save her before Albert does, we could leverage that to make him sign over his Valdemar Group shares to us."
She smiled, already imagining their success—the entire Valdemar Group under their control. Then, no one could stop her revenge.
But her fantasy was shattered by David's cold voice.
"Is that so?" he sneered. "But what if Yvette simply dies and Albert loses his mind from grief? The mighty Valdemar Group can't operate without leadership. Wouldn't that make it easier for me to take over?"
Violet's eyes widened in horror.
Even as she followed David downstairs, Violet remained shaken by their conversation.
Her steps were heavy, her mind elsewhere. She never imagined David's thoughts would be so dark—that he actually wanted Yvette dead and Albert broken.
Thank God she hadn't told him about the treatment she had for Yvette. What she'd considered her trump card would have been seen as an obstacle in David's eyes.
The realization sent chills down her spine.
They entered the dining room where James and Lisa were already eating. The lighting was dim, and the couple sat in silence. Only the jarring clatter of cutlery punctuated the oppressive quiet.
The atmosphere was stifling, yet David seemed oblivious as he calmly took a seat at the table.
Violet, now stripped of her earlier confidence, sat beside him with visible discomfort.
James's face was a mask of displeasure, his eyes cold. He didn't even bother to look up at them.
The table was conspicuously set for only two—James and Lisa—a clear message that the newcomers weren't welcome.
Unfazed, David turned to the household staff. "Mary, we're ready for our dinner now."
The maid named Mary shifted uncomfortably, glancing between David and James.
"Mr. James Valdemar?" she asked hesitantly.
James shot David a withering glare, his silent protest evident.
Lisa, eager to stir the pot, smiled sweetly. "James, if they want to join us for dinner, don't be difficult. You are a father, after all."
Before she could finish, James slammed his fork down on the table. "Father? Does he consider me his father? If he doesn't respect me as one, he has no right to eat at the Valdemar family table!"
Lisa flinched, momentarily startled, though a glint of satisfaction lurked in her eyes.
"Calm down, please. No need to throw cutlery. Let's talk this through," she said quickly. "Mary, please bring James fresh utensils."
Having successfully added fuel to the fire, Lisa dropped all pretense of inviting David and Violet to join them.
"Right away!" Mary replied, clearly relieved to have a reason to escape the tension. After delivering James's new cutlery, she hastily retreated to the kitchen.
James and Lisa pointedly ignored David and Violet, focusing on their meal. The occasional clink of silverware only heightened the awkwardness permeating the room.
Only after they finished eating did David break the silence with a soft laugh.
His mask of civility firmly back in place, he spoke gently, "I've come to an agreement with her."
At David's words, James stiffened.
He slammed his hand down on the table with a dull thud. "What have you two cooked up now? Haven't you angered me enough already?"
David's eyes darkened. "We've decided to cooperate with you to secure what you want—the Valdemar Group."
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