Chapter 625 Albert Might Kill Her
In the Office, David sat at his expansive mahogany desk, his attention fixed on the computer screen as he worked through a stack of documents.
His brow was deeply furrowed, eyes locked on the display while his fingers flew across the keyboard in rapid, precise strokes.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow across his desk and illuminating the sharp angles of his face.
The air carried the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich smell of polished wood.
Lately, Albert had been tightening the screws. Every stock holding, every business venture under David's control was being systematically squeezed.
He hadn't even had time to mount a proper counterattack. Thank God he'd seen this coming and prepared accordingly—it was the only thing keeping him afloat.
A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Valdemar," came Efrain's voice through the door.
David didn't look up from his screen. "Come in," he said curtly.
Efrain entered with visible reluctance, approaching the desk with measured steps.
"Mr. Valdemar, Ms. Swift is here again," he said with barely concealed exasperation.
David's jaw tightened, irritation flashing across his features. He despised interruptions during work hours—especially from Violet.
He glanced up briefly at Efrain before returning to his documents, as if Violet's presence was beneath his notice.
Seeing his boss's dismissive attitude, Efrain shifted uncomfortably. "Should I have Ms. Swift escorted out, sir?"
Though Efrain knew David had no intention of seeing Violet, the order had to come from above.
As a mere assistant, he couldn't risk turning away David's fiancée without explicit permission.
"Yes."
With David's confirmation, Efrain turned to leave—only to find Violet had already burst past security and into the office. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, her skirt swaying with each determined step.
Violet strode directly to David's desk, her gaze unwavering. "What's this, Mr. Valdemar? Trying to have me thrown out?"
David's eyes flicked up with cold indifference. "You knew that was the plan. Why force your way in?"
"Everything you've done lately—it's all been to make me come crawling back, hasn't it?" Violet's smile was knowing, almost mocking. "Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?"
David's fingers paused over the keyboard. He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Violet arched an eyebrow. "Suspending our engagement—that was your way of forcing me to the negotiating table, wasn't it?"
David's expression remained stone-cold. "You already know the answer. Why waste time with dramatics? Just give me what I want."
"But I—"
"Save your excuses," David cut her off, returning to his work as if she were invisible. "None of your reasons matter to me."
Violet feigned confusion. "I don't understand. We were so close to executing our plan, and now you want to pull the plug?"
David let out a harsh laugh. "Violet, we agreed from the beginning—this is a game. But you've apparently forgotten the rules."
Violet's face went rigid, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She took a deep breath. "So there's no room for negotiation?"
"None."
Violet stared at David's impassive face, his cold, distant eyes, and finally understood. Getting through to David was going to be nearly impossible.
Violet returned to the Swift Mansion in stony silence, her face drawn with exhaustion.
Several servants greeted her along the way, but she walked past them as if they didn't exist, heading straight for her room.
She slammed the door shut with enough force to rattle the frame, as if she could lock out the entire world.
Thaddeus and Elowen exchanged worried glances when they saw her condition.
After Violet's alcohol-fueled confession the other night, both parents had been consumed with guilt—though they had no idea how to fix things.
They stubbornly believed that Violet was old enough to shoulder the family's burdens, that she was no longer the little girl who needed protection.
"What's wrong with her now?" Elowen asked anxiously.
Thaddeus let out a heavy sigh. "Who knows? But it's clear Violet's under enormous pressure these days."
They approached her door cautiously, knocking gently in an attempt to reach out.
"Violet, would you like some fruit? We could bring it to your room if you prefer," Thaddeus called softly.
"Violet, you can talk to us about anything—even if it's just to vent," Elowen added after a pause. "We promise we won't interfere with your decisions anymore!"
No matter how much they knocked or pleaded, Violet remained silent, as if she couldn't hear them at all.
Minutes ticked by, and Thaddeus and Elowen grew increasingly frantic. They began pacing the hallway, stealing glances at her door, hoping to catch any sign of movement.
But Violet's room remained eerily quiet.
Elowen pressed her ear against the door, straining to hear any sound from within. Nothing.
"What if she's so overwhelmed that she's... that she might do something desperate?" she whispered.
Thaddeus went pale, his voice sharp with denial. "Don't say such things! Violet survived much worse situations before. Nothing catastrophic has happened now—why would she give up?"
"But there's absolutely no sound coming from in there! What if something's wrong?"
The muffled voices from the hallway seeped through the door cracks. Inside, Violet felt her nerves fraying. She sat on the carpet, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly at the floor before covering her ears with her hands.
She felt utterly helpless.
Her plan had been to use David to seize control of the Valdemar Family empire and make Albert pay.
But she'd forgotten one crucial detail—David wasn't someone who could be controlled. Their relationship was purely transactional. The moment her terms didn't satisfy him, he'd cut her loose without hesitation.
Violet couldn't figure out which side David was really on. She knew he hated both Yvette and Albert, but she didn't know if that hatred could overpower his love for Yvette.
What if David discovered that Yvette could be saved through stem cell transplantation?
Would he immediately discard Violet as a pawn and save Yvette instead?
If Yvette recovered, the medication Violet held as leverage would become worthless.
And then Albert might very well decide to eliminate her entirely.
The thought sent shivers down her spine, filling her with despair.
She could fight Rebecca. She could cut ties with Rodolfo. She could even take on the whole world if necessary.
But Albert—the man she'd "loved" for over ten years—was a different story entirely.
Violet wrapped her arms tighter around herself, drowning in her own anguish.
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