Chapter 8
Ellen’s brows knit slightly. If she lost this bet, it would mean losing everything.
“What’s the wager?” she asked.
Smirking, I answered, “We’ll bet on who earns more profit this year.”
Her nerves instantly eased.
“Draw up the contract,” she said, already smiling with confidence. “Let’s sign it now.”
She looked calm and self-assured, like she had it all in the bag. Still, I said nothing and just signed the agreement.
We both knew the truth. For someone like her, who dominated the market by copying others and slashing prices, she had the upper hand. Especially since she’d been poaching my top tech talents without a second thought. Even if this ended in mutual destruction, she’d be the one left standing with the least damage.
But was that really how it would play out?
As the deadline drew near, both companies released their financial statements. Mine showed significantly less profit than Ellen’s.
My assistant looked anxious. “Their numbers are obviously fake, Mr. Blanton. We could fudge ours, too! Just enough to beat her. It’s not like she’s playing fair.”
“If we fake it, our stock price becomes inflated. Either we keep lying forever to prop it up, or once the bet ends and the truth comes out, those who bought high will take the hit,” I said calmly.
Shaking my head, I continued, “Neither outcome is something I want.”
She bit her lip and asked, “So, are you really going to marry her if we lose?”
“Of course not,” I replied.
“But if we do lose…” she trailed off, but I knew what she wanted to say.
Yet, I didn’t respond.
That night, Ellen came to see me in person.
She looked radiant and more energetic than the last time I saw her.
“I’m here to offer you a way out,” she said with a bright smile. “Admit defeat now, and we can pretend the bet never happened. Otherwise, if word gets out that you lost and had to hand yourself over, you’ll be a joke in the startup world.”
She then leaned in and whispered, “But if you agree to marry me on your own terms, you’ll still save face.”
I glanced at the faint red marks on her neck.
She followed my gaze and instinctively covered them.
“There are always shady guys at these business events,” she explained quickly. “But I
This Life Wasn’t for Love It Was for Payback
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pushed him away. Nothing happened.”
“Toby?” I asked.
She flinched and avoided eye contact. “I told you, I already sent him away.”
“Who says sending him away means cutting ties?” I commented, my smile was cold.
She had “sent him away” in our past life, too. But it was only after my death that I found out she had secretly transferred massive amounts of our shared assets to him.
“I have zero tolerance when it comes to love and loyalty, Ellen. I won’t marry you,” I firmly stated.
She sighed and shook her head. “You’re so naive, Bryant. Marrying me because you lost a bet, and marrying me willingly are not the same thing.”
“Well, that’s not your concern anymore,” I replied.
My assistant, Mary Perkins, had had enough. She stood up and gestured toward the door. “Please see yourself out.”
Ellen gave me one last look, but I ignored her.
“Bryant,” she said softly, “I’ll wait for you.”
And with that, she left.
After she was gone, Mary turned to me, a little uncertain. “Mr. Blanton, did I go too far?”
“Hm?” I looked at her.
“I just… I saw her acting all high and mighty, and I couldn’t take it. Was I out of line?” she asked, a bit scared.
“You did great,” I complimented.
Only then did she relax slightly, but the worry returned just as fast.
“But what if we really do lose, Mr. Blanton? What then?” she worriedly asked.
I suddenly smiled. “Who said we’re going to lose?”
She blinked in surprise and frowned in confusion. “Didn’t you say her advantage was copying? If we release our next tech product, she’ll just undercut us with cheap knockoffs.”
12:24 Sun, 13 Jul NOM.
