Chapter 10

Sensing Hector's posture ease slightly, the subordinate grew bolder, words spilling out unchecked. "Tristan's trip to Qidence is all about securing a foothold for the Pearson Group in this cutthroat market. With the Murray family on the brink of collapse, the Clarke family can practically run the place. Tristan will need our backing sooner or later.Why else would he suggest we visit your grandpa together tonight? There's nothing for you to worry about-he's the one who-"

The rest died in his throat as Hector's boot slammed into his side. The man folded over, unable to scream,cold sweat breaking across his forehead. He looked up at Hector, dazed and confused.

"Get him out of my sight," Hector instructed without even looking at him.

The country's business landscape had shifted, and this was Tristan's time to rule.

One careless remark like that, if it reached the wrong ears, could bring the entire Clarke family to ruin.

Hector knew then-he couldn't afford to keep someone so reckless close.

Two guards dragged the man away, his protests muffled by their grip.

With a flick of his fingers, Hector called another subordinate forward, saying, "Tell my famnily I'll return later-with Mr.Pearson."

In his mind, Tristan would need at least an hour to take care of whatever business he had come for. Not wanting to keep his family in suspense, Hector decided it was best to send word ahead.

"Yes, sir." The subordinate gave a quick nod before hurrying off.

Hector had barely finished giving instructions when his phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up with Leyla's name.

A small smile touched his lips as he answered,"Leyla, where are you?"

"I'm at the house you bought for me," Leyla said, her voice warm and soft enough to smooth the edges off his mood.

"How's the renovation? Does it suit you?" he asked.

"I love it. Feels exactly like my style," Leyla replied without hesitation.

After a brief pause, her tone turned more tentative."I've done what you suggested... I've cut all ties with the Murray family. That means your parents won't stand in the way anymore, right?"

"Of course not," Hector replied. "They've never cared for the Murray family. Now that you're no longer connected to them, there's no reason they wouldn't welcome you."

Leyla's shoulders seemed to lighten. That fear-that the Clarke family might still reject her even after severing ties-began to loosen its grip. If things didn't go well, cutting ties with the Murray family would have meant nothing.

"Start getting ready," Hector said in a low, steady voice. "I'll send someone to pick you up in an hour.We'll go meet my family. A miracle doctor is visiting today-if they can treat my grandpa's illness, my family will be in a good mood. It might be the perfect time to bring up our marriage."

"That's wonderful! I'll get dressed right away," Leyla responded, her excitement barely contained.

"Good."

On the Moonlight Club's second floor, Anaya moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where she was going.

Stopping at Room 208, she pushed the door open.Heavy curtains sealed the room in darkness. "Please, Mr. Pearson," she said, gesturing Tristan inside.

Tristan stepped in, his face unreadable.

His cool demeanor didn't shake her composure.Determination still burned in her gaze.

In her mind, men were all the same-charming gentlemen under bright lights, but when the shadows closed in, even the most disciplined revealed their true desires.

Tonight, she intended to win him over.

Becoming his girlfriend wasn't her goal; she knew the odds. But sharing his bed, even just once, would put her in a league far above ordinary women.

The moment Tristan stepped into the room, Anaya slipped in behind him, twisting the lock with a soft click before pressing herself against his back.

His frame was unyielding, broad and solid, like running into a wall of iron. With wealth, power, and a face that could stop traffic,he was the kind of man any woman might lose her footing over.

Hooking her legs around his waist, she let her hand drift across the hard planes of his chest, fingertips grazing the first button of his shirt.

Blinding light exploded across the room without warning. A row of men in black stood at attention,their stillness and precision radiating the unmistakable discipline of trained bodyguards.

Anaya froze mid-breath."Who...who are you?"

Tristan's hands shoved her away with a force that left no doubt-her touch disgusted him.

Anaya hit the floor, stunned into silence, barely noticing the sting in her palms.

When she drew in air to scream, a rough hand clamped over her mouth, smothering the sound.

Tristan's gaze was ice-cold as he spoke, each word clipped and final. "One hour. I want every detail." "Yes,sir."

Two of the men hauled Anaya toward the adjoining bedroom. The door shut behind them with a sharp,final click, cutting off the rest of the world.

A man with a buzz cut stepped forward, holding out a freshly pressed suit jacket for Tristan.

This was Rocco Hewitt-Tristan's most trusted right hand.

Without a word, Tristan shrugged off his shirt, the fabric falling away to reveal the solid lines of a well-built chest, before sliding into the clean jacket.

The discarded clothes landed in the trash with a careless flick.

Rocco's eyes flicked upward.

With thick brows, deep-set eyes, and a sharp nose Tristan's features were already arresting. The crisp white shirt and black vest fit him with tailored precision, enhancing the commanding height and authority he carried. He might have looked like a refined gentleman, but there was a predatory edge beneath the polish-one glance was enough to demand submission.

Lowering his gaze respectfully, Rocco spoke in a quiet tone. "Anaya's one of Hector's sharper tools. If we can break her, we might confirm whether the Clarke family was behind your drugging last year."

Tristan gave a low hum, then shifted the subject."Still no sign of her?"

Rocco shook his head. "Not yet... but we have more breathing room now. I'll have her found within a month."

"Do it faster," Tristan instructed.

That drug from a year ago had been chosen for one purpose-to make sure he failed the very first project assigned to him by the last purported successor of the Pearson family.

If not for that mysterious girl, he would have been disgraced in front of the world and cast out of the Pearson family. Everything he had now would have slipped through his fingers.

In his head, he owed her a debt he could never fully repay. In his heart, she haunted him-appearing in his dreams almost every night.

But the memories were a blur, her face forever out of focus, nothing more than a shadow in his mind. That was why he had spent so long chasing a ghost.

Studying Tristan's expression, Rocco finally spoke."Mr. Pearson, you're promised to the Murray couple's daughter since young. If we do find this girl, what happens to the agreement?"

"It was arranged when I was a child," Tristan said, his tone dismissive. "It means nothing now."

Rocco hesitated. "But the chairman wants to see you married while he's still alive. The doctors... they don't think he has long."

Tristan's eyes locked on him, unyielding. "Then find her-fast." Since taking control of the Pearson Group, he had crossed paths with more socialites than he cared to count-and the more he met, the less he could stand them.

If marriage was inevitable, then it might as well be to the girl who had once saved him. At least, her touch didn't make his skin crawl.

Rocco dipped his head in acknowledgment before adding, "The Murray family never pushed the engagement before, but things are different now.You're the head of the Pearson family, and they've just gone bankrupt. They might try to shove their daughter into your life. I've also heard their biological daughter's been found..."

"Tomorrow," Tristan said, his voice even, "I'll pay the Murray family a visit and settle it myself."

Rocco gave another short nod.

At that moment, the bedroom door swung open, and Anaya emerged, her hair in disarray as she was escorted out.