Chapter 168 The Revenge Alliance
The Thorne family had always been extra careful when it came to politics.
They had deep pockets, endless influence, and connections that stretched across all kinds of major industries and continents. But despite all that power, they had never tied their name to a single political figure.
Councilor Whitmore had tried his best to change that rule a year ago.
He had approached Dorian directly with a straightforward proposal for a marriage alliance. His daughter, Naya, would marry Dorian. In return, the Councilor would get full access to the massive vault of Thorne resources, including political funding, high-level connections, and corporate weight.
Dorian had shot the deal down cold.
He had kept his tone polite and diplomatic, but his answer was absolute.
"The risks are far too high," Dorian had told him. "Political entanglements are unpredictable. The Thorne family will not tie its legacy to any single candidate."
Councilor Whitmore had been furious about the rejection, but he didn’t dare push the issue. He knew the Thorne family held too much power to turn into an outright enemy.
The Thorne family sat on a mountain of wealth.
They didn’t need favors from local politicians, they didn’t need backing from high-ranking officials, and they certainly didn’t need to kiss up to anyone to get what they wanted.
If anything, they worried about the exact opposite happening to them.
They worried that dirty political scandals would spill over and tarnish the family name. They worried about getting dragged into messy public battles they had zero interest in fighting. Most of all, they worried about losing the total independence they had spent generations building.
That was the real reason Dorian had refused to marry Naya Whitmore in the first place. That was why he made sure to keep Councilor Whitmore and his daughter at a safe distance.
And then, out of nowhere, he went ahead and married Veyra.
The news of the secret marriage had spread through upper-class circles like wildfire.
Dorian Thorne, the most sought-after bachelor in all of Etland City, had suddenly hitched himself to a woman nobody had ever heard of before.
The high-society news pages were completely stumped trying to figure out who she was. The local gossip columns ran wild with scandalous theories, and the Whitmore family was left absolutely livid.
Naya Whitmore felt completely humiliated by the whole thing. She had been waiting patiently for Dorian to notice her, fully expecting a formal proposal and already planning out their grand high-society wedding.
Instead of choosing her, he had gone off and married a complete nobody.
Naya was determined to dig up every single detail she could find on Veyra. She wanted to know where this woman came from, who her family was, and what kind of hold she had over Dorian that Naya didn’t.
That was why she finally reached out and called Eleanor.
Eleanor had been waiting for that phone call, thrilled to hear Naya’s voice on the line.
Ever since she got confined to the family meditation room, Eleanor had been stewing in her own anger. She had been thoroughly humiliated, dragged down, and punished in front of everyone.
And as far as she was concerned, Veyra was the direct cause of all her misery.
She wanted payback more than anything. She wanted to watch Veyra get completely ruined, but up until now, she hadn’t found a clean way to strike without getting her own hands dirty.
Naya calling her was the perfect golden opportunity.
Eleanor picked up the phone, instantly dropping her tone into something soft, fragile, and full of fake pity.
"Naya," Eleanor murmured into the receiver. "I’m so glad you called me."
Naya didn’t waste any time with polite small talk. Her voice came through sharp and demanding. "Aunt Eleanor. I need to talk to you about something important."
"Of course, dear. What is it?"
"Veyra."
Eleanor’s fingers tightened hard around her phone, though she kept her voice sounding faint and beaten down. "I honestly don’t even know what to say about her anymore."
"She’s the random woman who tricked Dorian into marriage," Naya said, her tone growing colder by the second. "I need you to tell me everything you know about her."
Eleanor let out a soft, heavy sigh, making sure she sounded thoroughly broken by her recent troubles. "I’ve suffered a massive grievance at her hands, Naya. One that I can’t even speak about openly right now."
Naya went dead quiet on the other end for a brief second before her voice turned icy. "I’m so sorry she did that to you, Aunt Eleanor. We need to handle this."
Eleanor smiled quietly in the dark room. She had hooked her target perfectly.
It didn’t take long for them to set up a place to meet in person.
Eleanor suggested a small quiet café situated right across the street from Veyra’s new commercial storefront.
"I need to keep a close eye on what she’s building," Eleanor explained over the line. "She’s up to something shady over there. I don’t know the whole picture yet, but I plan on figuring it out."
Naya agreed right away, promising to be there soon.
While she waited, Eleanor went over every single detail of her plan inside her head.
Naya was still head over heels for Dorian, completely blinded by her own bruised ego and desperate for revenge after being passed over.
Eleanor was more than happy to feed right into that anger.
She was going to tell Naya every terrible thing she could think of regarding Veyra. She would frame Veyra as a calculated schemer who had stolen Dorian away, making Naya believe that Veyra was the sole reason her dream life had been ripped out of her hands.
Once Naya was angry enough, Eleanor would step back into the shadows and let Naya do all the heavy lifting to tear Veyra down.
Eleanor smiled to herself, taking a slow sip of the hot tea the waiter had just brought over.
The café was small, peaceful, and tucked away from the main rush of traffic. The second-floor seating area offered an unobstructed view of the bustling street right below, making it an ideal spot to watch without being noticed.
Eleanor had arrived well ahead of time, picking out a cozy corner table right next to the wide glass window.
From her perch upstairs, she could look directly across the asphalt and see the ground level of Veyra’s new place. The interior lights were bright, casting long yellow rectangles onto the sidewalk as people inside moved back and forth carrying supplies and measuring walls.
Eleanor sat there quietly, watching every movement and waiting patiently for the front door to open.
She sat on the second floor of the café, waiting for Naya Whitmore while secretly keeping an eye on Veyra’s shop.