Chapter 198: Borrow Me Your Toy For A bit
The iron gates of the Roys estate didn’t just restrict access; they separated the capital from the hidden machinery that ran it. Nestled deep within the heavily guarded hills of the exclusive Crest District, the sprawling manor sat surrounded by acres of private, ancient woodland. Security personnel in unmarked tactical gear patrolled the perimeter with silent, military precision, their presence a stark contrast to the classical, limestone architecture of the main residence. This wasn’t a home built on recent market successes; it was a fortress of multi-generational, absolute authority.
Elizabeth stepped through the massive double doors of the west wing, tossing her light trench coat to a waiting butler without looking. Her heels clicked sharply against the heated marble floors as she walked toward the grand conservatory, intending to pour herself a glass of wine after a long evening of high-society functions.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Sitting in one of the high-backed leather armchairs by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall was a tall man. He wore a dark, bespoke suit, his posture rigidly elegant even while relaxing. He was slowly swirling a small glass of neat amber whiskey, his sharp profile silhouetted against the moonlight filtering through the glass dome.
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, her usual mask of calm sophistication cracking for a fraction of a second. "Derrick?"
Derrick Roys didn’t turn his head immediately. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink before finally glancing over his shoulder. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips, though his eyes remained entirely cool and analytical.
"You’re late, Lizzy," Derrick said, his voice a smooth, low baritone that commanded the room without effort. "I expected you back hours ago."
"Since when do you sneak into the capital without alerting the family?" Elizabeth asked, recovering her composure as she walked over to the crystal decanter to pour her own drink. She kept her movements fluid, but her mind was already racing. ’He was supposed to be at the northern military base for another month. Why is he here?’
"The Ministry of Commerce needed a brief reminder of who handles their security protocols," Derrick replied casually, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. "It was a tedious trip, but it had its moments." He paused, his gaze tracking her as she took a seat opposite him. "I hear you’ve been spending your evenings at art galleries."
Elizabeth sipped her wine, her eyes locked on his. "The Meridian Gallery had its grand charity auction. But that was over a month ago. It was quite the show."
"I’m sure it was," Derrick murmured. He set his glass down on the mahogany side table with a soft, deliberate clink. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous curiosity.
Elizabeth swirled the deep red liquid in her glass, taking a measured step closer. "And what about you? I thought the Joint High Command had you locked away at the northern headquarters until the autumn drills. Did the generals finally get tired of your lecturing?"
Derrick let out a dry, quiet chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "The northern base is exactly as it always is—frozen, predictable, and entirely too reliant on outdated defense logistics. The paperwork was wrapped up early, and frankly, the capital offers far more interesting strategic theater at the moment." He shifted slightly, leaning back into the leather. "Tell me, how has the capital been since I’ve been away? Has the local nobility managed to do anything noteworthy, or are they still just bickering over real estate and trade quotas?"
"Veyra has its usual political theatrics," Elizabeth replied, her expression smooth as glass. "But the underlying currents are shifting faster than usual. People are getting bold. The Sterlings have practically bled dry in broad daylight, and half the ministries are scrambling to rewrite their economic briefs just to keep up with the market data."
Derrick raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine amusement crossing his features. "Let them scramble. The bureaucracy needs a shock to its system occasionally, if only to weed out the dead weight. But I doubt the old guard is letting their legacy vanish without a fight."
"They don’t have a choice," Elizabeth countered, taking a slow sip of her wine. "The leverage they thought they held is dissolving. The people they used to intimidate are suddenly finding much bigger patrons."
Derrick’s eyes locked onto hers, the casual demeanor instantly sharpening into something predatory. "So, what’s your stance on him?"
Elizabeth paused, her glass hovering inches from her lips. She didn’t need him to clarify who ’him’ was. There was only one person in the capital causing enough noise to reach the ears of the Roys family patriarchs.
"You’re asking about Jake Rivers," she stated evenly, setting her glass down. She hadn’t expected Derrick to catch wind of the young billionaire so quickly, let alone take an active interest. "He’s... different from the usual crowd that crawls out of the financial sector."
"Is he?" Derrick provoked, a small, patronizing tilt of his head encouraging her to continue. "The city produces a dozen overnight successes every fiscal cycle, Lizzy. They hit a few correct signals, buy a penthouse, and assume they’ve conquered the world. What makes this one worth your presence?"
"He has a stillness to him," Elizabeth said, her mind flashing back to how Jake had held her gaze in Box 1, entirely unbothered by her family name or the heavy atmosphere of the room. "Most men his age sweat when I sit next to them. They try too hard to impress, or they look like they’re waiting to be hit. Rivers didn’t even adjust his tie. He watched the entire room like a hunter waiting for the bait to clear. He’s cold, Derrick. He let Noah Chen humiliate Julian Sterling publicly without a single flicker of hesitation. He didn’t just break Sterling’s cash flow; he took his pride and made the entire elite circle applaud while he did it."
Derrick listened intently, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his knee. "And did you go to that auction because father asked you to check on the Aurelia Capital ties, or was it your own choice?"
"A little bit of both," Elizabeth replied smoothly, her voice remaining perfectly modulated. "Father wanted to know if the sudden shift in the country was going to disrupt the state’s trade tenders. I wanted to see if the new power in Veyra was a lion or just a very lucky house cat."
Derrick’s tapping stopped. He stared at her for a long, quiet moment, his analytical gaze dissecting her expression. "You care about him."
Elizabeth let out a sharp, dismissive laugh, her posture instantly stiffening. "Don’t think of useless things, Derrick. He’s a fascinating variable in a very boring city. That’s all. I have no interest in holding the hand of a newcomer, regardless of how many billions he manages to accumulate over a weekend."
Derrick didn’t argue. Instead, his grin widened, a dark, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. ’She’s still as terrible at lying to me as she was when we were children,’ he thought, noting the slight, defensive edge in her tone, the faint flush on her high cheekbones, and the way her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass.
"Good," Derrick said, his voice dropping into a lighter, almost playful tone as he stood up, slowly buttoning his bespoke suit jacket. He took a final sip of his whiskey and set the empty glass down. "Because that means you won’t mind if I play with him for a bit."
The temperature in the conservatory seemed to drop instantly.
Elizabeth’s face went entirely cold. The playful, high-society sibling banter vanished, replaced by a fierce, territorial aura that caused even the veteran guards stationed outside the glass doors to subtly shift their weight. She stood up from her chair, staring daggers straight into her brother’s eyes, her voice dropping into a low, lethal whisper.
"Don’t touch what’s mine, Derrick."
Derrick didn’t flinch. He simply let out a soft, amused chuckle, entirely unbothered by the warning. He stepped past her chair, pausing for a brief second to pat her shoulder with a gloved hand.
"It really is nice to be back in the capital," Derrick murmured, a smug, unreadable smile on his face as he walked toward the grand exit. "Sleep well, Lizzy."
The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind him, leaving Elizabeth alone in the massive, silent room.
A sudden, sharp wave of panic hit her chest. Her fingers trembled slightly as she set her glass down, her mind spinning into overdrive. Her entire plan had been built on a specific timeline—she wanted to give Jake Rivers room to breathe, to let him expand his empire and rise to his absolute peak before she stepped in to fully test his limits. It was supposed to be her game.
But Derrick was the next patriarch. He didn’t play games; he orchestrated realignments. If the military branch and the future Chief Commander decided to squeeze Golden Investments to see what Jake was made of, Jake wouldn’t just face financial pressure—he would face the crushing weight of the state.
Elizabeth stood up, walking rapidly toward the window, her eyes tracking the dark, empty courtyard below. I need to move my pieces faster, she thought, her jaw tightening as she formulated a new strategy in her mind. ’If I don’t make a move right now, he is going to break my new toy before the real fun even begins.’
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