The Northvale Key

Episode 14

An Impossible Contract Request

The atmosphere in the private dining room of The Obsidian restaurant felt colder than the air conditioning set to its lowest level. Under the glow of the crystal chandelier reflecting sharp light onto the porcelain plates, four people sat in a suffocating silence. This wasn't just a business dinner; it was a diplomatic battlefield wrapped in the aroma of expensive grilled meat.

Great-Grandmother Ashworth sat at the head of the table, her wrinkled but strong fingers clutching the stem of a wine glass. Beside her, Lianna looked pale, her hands beneath the table constantly squeezing a silk napkin. Cassian sat next to his wife, wearing a suit that was slightly too large—a humiliating gift from Great-Grandmother the other day—and kept his head down like a man who knew his lowly place.

However, the center of gravity in the room was the woman across from them. Madam North, known as the Iron Root, wore a deep black dress with a subtle silver brooch in the shape of the Northvale lion. Her expression was flat and her eyes were as cold as the arctic as she stared at the Valerian proposal document as if it were a pile of trash.

Valerian Group is in a golden transition period, Madam North, Great-Grandmother began, her voice modulated to sound authoritative yet humble. We have cleared out the internal parasites. Now, under Lianna's leadership, we are ready to receive a capital injection from your consortium.

Madam North did not answer immediately. She sipped her mineral water slowly, letting the silence torture Great-Grandmother for several seconds that felt like hours. A capital injection, or just a bailout to patch the holes made by your other grandson, Cyrus?

Great-Grandmother choked for a moment but quickly regained her composure. Cyrus no longer has access. This is purely for logistical expansion and Lianna's jewelry gallery.

Jewelry gallery? Madam North snorted cynically. Her eyes flicked toward Lianna, who immediately tensed up. The jewelry industry is sluggish. Giving Valerian ten million dollars right now is the same as throwing money into a furnace. I didn't come to this city for charity work.

Lianna tried to speak up, her voice trembling slightly. We have data on new artisans, Madam. If you look at the projections on page four—

I’ve seen it, Miss Ashworth, Madam North cut her off harshly. She threw the document folder into the center of the table. Boring. No vision. Valerian Group is too small for my investment radar.

Great-Grandmother looked panicked. Losing an investor of this caliber after the fallout with Kenneth Stark would be the death knell for Valerian. Please reconsider. We can provide larger share concessions.

In the midst of the tension, Cassian slowly set down his fork. The clink of silver on porcelain sounded incredibly loud in the quiet room. He looked up, staring at Madam North with a gaze that, to an outsider, looked like the reckless courage of a fool.

Perhaps Madam North is right, Cassian said in a relaxed tone that nearly made Great-Grandmother drop her glass.

Cassian! Be quiet! Great-Grandmother snapped, her face flushing with embarrassment. Don't you dare open your mouth in front of our distinguished guest!

No, Grandma. Let me speak, Cassian did not look down this time. He looked at Madam North with a piercing gaze, a secret signal understood only by the Iron Root. Madam North thinks our vision is boring because we’re only asking for ten million. That’s a number for losers. Valerian doesn’t need ten million. We need an executive contract worth fifty million dollars to monopolize the secondary trade routes.

Madam North narrowed her eyes, playing her part perfectly. She laughed coldly, a sound that could freeze the blood in Lianna's veins. Fifty million? For a company that was almost bankrupt two days ago? You must be out of your mind, Note-Taker.

Mad or realistic? Cassian challenged. He leaned forward, ignoring Lianna’s hand pulling at his sleeve under the table, pleading for him to stop. Madam North is hesitant because she thinks Lianna doesn’t have full authority. Great-Grandmother always clips the wings of her own CEO every time she tries to fly. How about this wager: Grant that fifty-million-dollar contract now, but on one condition.

What condition? Madam North asked, her voice now sounding interested despite remaining cynical.

That contract cannot be touched by the board of directors or Great-Grandmother, Cassian said in a chillingly flat tone. All funds and execution must be under an Autonomous Department led directly and independently by Lianna Ashworth. If Lianna fails to deliver a twenty percent profit within three months, you may seize all physical assets of the Valerian building.

Cassian Northvale! You dare gamble with the company headquarters?! Great-Grandmother stood up, her hands trembling. Who do you think you are?! You’re just a useless son-in-law living off our charity!

But he's right, Great-Grandmother, Madam North interrupted suddenly. She leaned back in her chair, looking at Cassian and Great-Grandmother in turn. This piece of trash's offer is actually far more interesting than the boring proposal you made. Fifty million dollars is a figure worth talking about. But the conditions are strict. That department must be autonomous. No interference from other members of the Ashworth family.

Great-Grandmother fell silent. Her mind raced between her greed for the fifty million dollars and her fear of losing control over Lianna. However, fifty million dollars was too large a sum to refuse. It wasn't just money; it was life support for the Ashworth dynasty.

Grandma, don't listen to him, Lianna whispered, even though she felt a strange sense of confusion. Why did the arrogant Madam North suddenly agree with Cassian's wild idea?

Madam North tapped her fingers on the table. I don't have much time. Yes or no? If yes, I will send the draft contract tonight. If not, I'm going to Stark Capital tomorrow morning.

The name Stark Capital was the perfect trigger. Great-Grandmother turned pale instantly. She took a deep breath, glaring at Cassian with deep hatred, then looked back at Madam North.

Fine, Great-Grandmother hissed. Lianna will have her Autonomous Department. Fifty million dollars. But if you fail, Lianna... don't expect you or this husband of yours to have a roof over your heads anymore.

Agreed, Madam North said briefly. She stood up, straightening her dress without sparing Great-Grandmother a single glance. The contract will be sent shortly. Miss Ashworth, I expect a lot from you. And you, Note-Taker... you've got quite a bit of nerve for someone who has nothing.

After Madam North left with her entourage, the room suddenly felt empty yet thick with tension. Great-Grandmother pointed at Cassian's face with a trembling finger.

You... hissed Great-Grandmother. Don't think for a second that because your crazy idea caught her attention, you have a position here. You just gambled the company's life on a whim! If Lianna fails, I will be the one to destroy you!

Lianna won't fail, Grandma, Cassian replied calmly. He stood up and put his arm around Lianna's shoulder, as she still looked dazed. As long as you don't interfere with her business, everything will be fine.

Great-Grandmother snorted rudely, snatched her bag, and marched out of the restaurant, leaving Cassian and Lianna alone.

Lianna looked at her husband, her eyes glassy with a mix of disbelief and fear. Cassian, what did you do? Fifty million dollars? An autonomous department? I don't know if I can do this...

Cassian gently stroked his wife's arm. You've been the CEO all this time without any real power, Lianna. Now, I'm giving you a sharp sword. Use it.

Don't let Grandma or your cousins touch your project again.

"But how did you know Madam North would agree? Your tactics... it is like you already knew what she wanted," Lianna said, narrowing her eyes as she searched for honesty in Cassian's face.

Cassian only gave a faint smile, one he had never shown before. Of course I knew, because I was the one who gave her that order an hour ago through Agent D, Cassian thought. But in front of Lianna, he simply replied, "Sometimes the wealthy just need a bigger challenge, not a pathetic plea."

They walked toward the parking area. The night wind of Northvale blew hard, carrying the scent of impending rain. As Cassian was about to open the car door for Lianna, the secret phone in his suit pocket vibrated three times.

A danger signal.

Cassian glanced toward the shadows at the corner of the restaurant building. There, behind a dark concrete pillar, he saw a small glint from a surveillance camera lens. Someone was watching them—not one of the Ashworths, but someone with a far more professional posture.

"Lianna, get in the car first. I forgot my credit card on the table," Cassian lied.

"Cassian, don't be long. It is already late."

"Just a minute."

After Lianna got in and locked the car doors, Cassian turned around. His face, which had seemed soft just moments ago, instantly turned ice-cold. His eyes flashed with the authority of Lord North, a man hunted by the world. He did not walk back to the restaurant; instead, he stepped toward the dark alleyway beside the building.

There, a man dressed entirely in black was busy with a communication device. Upon realizing Cassian was there, the man was startled and tried to pull a weapon from inside his jacket.

But Cassian was faster. With a single efficient movement, he gripped the man's wrist and pinned him against the concrete wall. The dry sound of bone cracking echoed in the darkness of the night.

"Who sent you?" Cassian asked, his voice like the whisper of the Grim Reaper. "Stark? Or the Coven?"

The man groaned in pain, his eyes widening in terror at the sight of Cassian's gaze, which looked nothing like the loser back in the restaurant. "You... you are not just an Ashworth son-in-law..."

"I am asking one more time," Cassian said, applying more pressure to the man's throat. "The Coven?"

The man suddenly bit down on something in his mouth—a cyanide capsule. His body convulsed violently for a few seconds before finally going limp and lifeless in Cassian's hands.

Cassian cursed under his breath. He released the corpse and let it slump to the floor. He immediately reached into the man's pocket and found a small silver coin engraved with thorns wrapped around a skull.

A mid-level Coven symbol.

Cassian wiped his hands with a handkerchief, tossed it into the trash, and returned to Lianna's car with a calm face as if nothing had happened. As he got into the car, Lianna looked at him suspiciously.

"Why are you out of breath?" Lianna asked.

"Just a short jog. I was afraid of keeping you waiting too long," Cassian replied as he started the engine.

As they drove away from the restaurant, Cassian glanced through the rearview mirror. In the darkness of the night, he realized that the financial war from moments ago was only the beginning. The Coven already knew that Lord North was operating within the Valerian Group. And tonight, a new message appeared on his secret phone's screen.

"Congratulations on the contract, Little King. But did you know that Lianna is carrying a time bomb in her bag?"

Cassian turned toward Lianna's briefcase lying on the back seat. His heart pounded. He had to act now, or he would see his wife blown to pieces right in front of him.