Chapter 271
It seemed Michelle’s public welfare role had already been elevated to a national-level assignment.
Lenny had assumed she had long since stepped away from anything involving Nick’s world.
But reality rarely followed expectations. The world bent in unpredictable directions, and what looked like distance often turned into convergence.
Nick studied Michelle in silence.
His gaze lingered a little too long, the faint crease between his brows deepening until it looked carved into place. The air in the lounge subtly tightened.
Lenny’s throat went dry.
He could already imagine what would happen if Nick decided, right here and now, to abandon the project.
But that wasn’t an option.
This wasn’t just a Hunt Group initiative—it was a state-backed collaboration. Walking away would not only be unprofessional; it would be impossible.
Michelle seemed to understand this perfectly.
She withdrew her hand without embarrassment and took the seat opposite him as if nothing had happened.
Today she was dressed differently—khaki workwear, hair pulled into a high, practical ponytail. Her makeup was minimal, softening her usually striking presence into something more neutral, more professional.
“I’m here purely to handle documentation,” she said evenly. “If my presence is inconvenient, I can minimize direct interaction. I just hope we can complete the project smoothly.”
Nick’s voice was equally restrained. “Work comes first. Personal matters are irrelevant. Focus on your responsibilities.”
It was formal. Detached.
Michelle nodded once, though something subtle tightened in her chest. She checked her watch, set up her equipment, and began preparing her interview setup without delay.
“There’s still some time before departure,” she said. “May I conduct a brief interview now?”
Nick didn’t refuse.
So she began immediately.
Her questions were structured, precise, and strictly aligned with the project objectives. No personal detours. No emotional gaps. She was efficient to the point of discipline, as if she truly had sealed off everything else.
Across the city, Khloe had just stepped into her residence when her phone began to buzz.
A notification lit up the screen—a bank alert confirming a “Service Fee for Equity Transfer Processing.”
Before she could fully register it, the phone rang again.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A calm, professional male voice came through.
“Hello, Miss Roswell. This is the legal department of Fox Group. Your equity transfer has been fully completed. The shareholder registry has been updated, and all official documents and certificates are being delivered to your residence. Estimated arrival time is within thirty minutes.
“Understood,” Khloe replied flatly.
No surprise. No reaction.
She already knew this was the final step—the third day Trey had been given.
She ended the call.
A moment later, another message appeared.
Trey: Khloe, everything is done. Fifty percent of Fox Group is now in your name. I’ve fulfilled my promise. I don’t ask for forgiveness. I only hope you’ll give me a chance to meet you and start over.
Khloe stared at the message for a long moment.
Then she picked up her phone and called him.
The call connected almost instantly.
“Khloe…” Trey’s voice came through, tense but hopeful.
“Ten o’clock tomorrow. Fox Group,” she said.
And she ended the call.
No explanation. No softness.
Just the same cold precision she used in business.
Trey lowered his phone slowly, staring at the dark screen.
For the first time in days, a faint sense of relief loosened his chest—thin, uncertain, but real.
Three days ago, Fox Group had been pulled into a full investigation over project irregularities, forcing cancellations of multiple partnerships—including its cooperation with Hunt Group. Then Hunt Group withdrew its investment without warning.
The withdrawal had shaken everything.
And without new capital stepping in fast, the IPO process would stall completely.
The clock was already ticking.