Revenge marriage to my ex-husband’s Rival

7.

"What the hell do you mean the deal's off?" Henri's voice thundered across the boardroom, his sharp eyes boring into the executives seated around the table. The room fell silent, everyone too afraid to meet his gaze.

"We had a signed agreement," he continued, slamming his fist onto the polished mahogany table. "Weeks of negotiations, millions in due diligence, and now you're telling me it's all gone to s**t?"

One of the senior VPs, Mark, swallowed hard before speaking. "Sir, the other party backed out at the last minute. They cited unforeseen financial risks and—"

"Unforeseen financial risks?!" Henri interrupted, his face turning a shade of red. "Are they running a lemonade stand or a multinational corporation? They had all the financials from day one. We didn't hide a damn thing!"

Mark tried to maintain his composure. "They claimed the market conditions have shifted significantly, and their board decided it wasn't in their best interest to proceed."

Henri glared at him, his patience thin. "Market conditions? This is business, Mark. Conditions always shift. If they couldn't handle a bit of volatility, they had no business sitting at our table in the first place."

He turned his attention to the head of legal, Sarah. "Did we at least secure the penalty clause for backing out?"

Sarah cleared her throat. "Yes, Mr. Delarney, but it covers only a fraction of what we stand to lose. The primary contract was more about mutual commitment rather than penalties."

"Of course," Henri muttered bitterly. "Commitment. Something no one seems to understand anymore." Like he was one to say such a thing..

He paced back and forth, the room tense with anticipation. "We needed that merger to solidify our foothold in the European market. Without it, we're exposed. Vulnerable."

He sighed bitterly, it was only half past ten in the morning and his day has been ruined already. Just as he was about to bring a meeting to a close, he was interrupted by a timid voice from the back of the room. Liam, a junior executive, had spoken up, drawing a warning look from Mark who already knew what he was about to say.

He approached Mark with the information before the meeting, and Mark dismissed it, thinking it unnecessary to inform the boss and only invoke his further ire, but the damn fool was trying to go against his orders just for a few seconds of recognition? It was his f*****g funeral..

"Sir, there's...something else," Liam said hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Henri's eyes flashed with impatience as he turned his attention to Liam. A man he could've sworn he literally had never met before. "Well, what is it?" he demanded, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Liam swallowed hard, glancing nervously at his colleagues before continuing. "I've heard rumors that the client was scared off by Leclair Industries. Apparently, they were afraid of repercussions."

Henri's eyes narrowed, his face taking on a menacing stillness. "Repercussions? What kind of repercussions?"

Liam took a deep breath. "Well, sir, there's been talk that Sebastion Leclair might have had a hand in bankrupting other CEOs who crossed him. Remember Anderson & brothers? Their CEO, Martha Anderson, got into some trouble shortly after dealing with us and was forced into bankruptcy. No one knows for sure, but the timing seemed suspicious. The clients might have feared a similar fate."

Henri's expression remained icy, a cold fire burning in his eyes. "Leclair," he muttered, the name dripping with venom. "That bastard has been trying to undermine us for years. I wouldn't put it past him to use underhanded tactics to scare off our partners."

The boardroom was silent, everyone watching Henri carefully. His anger was now a controlled, lethal force, regaining some of the composure that took the business world by the storm, his words measured and deliberate. "So, they were scared of Sebastion Leclair," he said slowly, almost to himself. "Interesting."

He turned his gaze back to the room, his voice now a low, ominous rumble. "Listen up. If Leclair thinks he can bully our partners and ruin our deals, he has another thing coming. We don't back down to threats or intimidation. We adapt. We retaliate."

The boardroom was silent, the tension palpable as Henri's eyes swept over his team. He leaned in, his voice a chilling whisper, "Prepare for a counter-strategy. Leclair thinks he's untouchable. Let's show him just how wrong he is."

"And you," he said pointing at the startled Liam, "Meet me in my office after this."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Is that the newest louis Vuitton bag? I heard there's only 10 of them in the whole world," Sarah exclaimed looking at the sleek leather accessory Opal held in hand.

Opal blushed modestly, as though she hadn't been deliberately drawing attention to it with every gesture until one of the women had noticed. "Oh Sarah, you have such good eye. Henri got it for me when he was in paris for business last week."

Sarah Kavinsky, Adeline Hudson, Dahlia smith and her were out for a leisurely brunch, gossiping as usual. The topic quickly shifted from luxury items to the latest social scandals and high-society events.

"Did you hear about the debacle at the Vanderbilts' soirée last week?" Dahlia began, her eyes alight with scandalous delight. "Apparently, Isabelle got into a screaming match with her husband. Everyone was mortified."

Adeline smirked. "She always did have a temper. I heard she's on the brink of a breakdown. Poor dear can't handle the pressure."

Sarah leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "And did you hear about the charity gala tonight? Hosted by the Chalini family. It’s supposed to be the event of the season."

Opal's ears perked up, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? Which charity is it for?" she asked, trying to sound casual. It peeved her though that this was the first she was hearing of such a gala. How come she didn’t receive an invitation? How dare they look down on her?

"The usual," Sarah said with a dismissive wave. "But it's the guest list that's really interesting. Only the crème de la crème are invited. I heard Aria Moretti is making her grand reappearance tonight."

Opal's heart skipped a beat, her grip tightening on her glass. "Aria Moretti?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the icy dread seeping into her veins. Her ears ringing as she tried to swallow her shock.

The women nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, it's been ages since she was last seen in public," Sarah added, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "And you know the gala is hosted by the Chalini family. They don't just invite anyone."

Adeline chimed in, "Exactly. It's a who's who of the elite. I heard even getting an invitation is nearly impossible unless you're someone really special. And some are even willing to pay a fortune just to get in."

Opal forced a smile, her mind racing a mile a minute. "Which charity is it for?" she asked, feigning casual interest. "I hadn't heard anything about it."

The women laughed, not realizing the depth of Opal's simmering fury. "Oh, it's all very hush-hush," Dahlia said. "But everyone who is anyone will be there. Too bad you didn't get an invite, darling." She added deliberately, smirking when Opal flinched.

Opal felt a surge of hatred, the mere mention of Aria Moretti like a dagger to her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, her face a mask of indifference. "Well, I'm sure it'll be a lovely event," she said coolly, taking a sip of her drink to hide the trembling of her hands. But really, she wasn’t fooling anybody. They all watched her in morbid curiosity, eager to see what she would do next.

Inside, Opal was absolutely seething. Aria Moretti. The name alone brought back a flood of bitter memories and old wounds. How dare she show her face again, after everything? Opal's thoughts churned with venomous rage, her heart pounding in her chest. She was supposed to stay locked up in her stupid fancy mansion like she’d been doing for the past year. How dare she?

But outwardly, she maintained her composure, smiling politely as the women continued their chatter. She would not let them see her distress, would not give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply this news had cut her. But one thing was certain: Aria Moretti's return would not go unanswered.

Opal’s eyes glittered with malice as she leaned in closer. "I almost feel bad for her," she said with feigned sympathy. "Aria truly loved Henri, you know. But she just wasn't good enough."

Sarah snickered. "She was never going to fit into our world of mere mortals. Lived like an heiress her whole life, what does she know of the real world?"

Adeline nodded, laughing. "And now she thinks she can just waltz back in after licking her wounds in her billions? Pathetic."

Dahlia rolled her eyes. "Remember how she used to act so high and mighty? Like she was better than everyone else? And don't get me started on her inability to keep a man satisfied. Henri must have been so bored with her."

Opal joined in the laughter, her anger masked by the mocking mirth. "Exactly. She was never more than a fleeting amusement for Henri. The poor thing. Stiff as board he often said.."

Their cruel laughter echoed in Opal's ears, fueling her rage. Excusing herself, she made her way to the bathroom, her steps quick and determined. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and pulled out her phone, dialing Henri's number with shaking fingers.

He answered after a few rings, his voice gruff. "Opal, what is it? I'm in the middle of something."

"Henri, I need you to get us an invitation to the Chalini charity gala tonight," she demanded, her voice barely containing her fury.

There was a pause on the other end. "Opal, it’s the Chalini’s. And isn’t it supposed to be exclusive? They don’t just let anyone in. It's nearly impossible." Even he had been a bit interested when he got to know of it seeing as it would be good to expand his contacts, but after not receiving an invitation, he let it go.

"I don't care," Opal hissed. "I need to be there. Make it happen."

Henri sighed, clearly exasperated. "Opal, even if I could pull some strings, it's not guaranteed. These things take time, and—"

"Henri," she interrupted, her voice a cold, hard edge. "I don't care how you do it. Just do it. I need to be there. Tonight."

There was a long silence before Henri finally responded, his tone resigned. "I'll see what I can do."

"You'll get it done," Opal insisted, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Or don't bother coming home."

Henri sighed again, a tired, irritated sound. "I'll try my best."

"Good," Opal said, hanging up without another word. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes blazing with fury. Aria Moretti thought she could come back and reclaim her place? Opal would make sure she regretted ever daring to think so.