The penthouse was silent save for the frantic reports spilling from the screen. David Wei's face, once a mask of arrogant triumph, was now contorted in panic. Mr. Ling was visibly trembling, surrounded by a growing circle of aides delivering increasingly dire news. The hostile takeover of Wei Global was proceeding with brutal, algorithmic efficiency.
Jia watched, her mind reeling. The scale of Leo's power was staggering, terrifying, and yet... a fierce sense of justice burned within her. These men had sought to destroy her family, to use her as a pawn. Seeing their empire crumble was satisfying, but it was a passive satisfaction. She was just a spectator in Leo's war.
Then, a new feed bloomed on the screen: Selina. Her face was pale and streaked with tears as she was ambushed by reporters outside her apartment building. "I had no idea!" she sobbed into the microphones thrust in her face. "David manipulated me! I was just trying to be a good friend to Jia! I'm a victim too!"
A cold fury ignited in Jia's chest. The lies. The betrayal. Selina had been a viper in her garden for years, whispering poison, delighting in her struggles. And now she was playing the victim?
Leo watched the screen, his expression coldly analytical. "Pathetic. But predictable. She'll try to save herself by throwing David under the bus."
"No," Jia said, her voice quiet but sharp as a blade.
Leo turned to her, a question in his eyes.
"She doesn't get to play the victim," Jia stated, her gaze fixed on Selina's weeping image. "She doesn't get to twist the narrative. You've handled the lions, Leo. Let me handle the snake."
A slow, genuine smile spread across Leo's face. It was the first truly open expression she had ever seen on him—a look of admiration and unleashed pride. "What's your play?"
Jia walked to the bank of screens, her posture straightening, the heiress she was born to be finally stepping into her power. "I'm going to give her enough rope to hang herself. And I'm going to do it live."
She picked up her personal phone, which had been buzzing incessantly with calls from Selina and other "concerned" friends. She selected Selina's number and put it on speaker.
Selina answered on the first ring, her voice a hysterical wail. "Jia! Oh, thank god! I've been so worried! You've seen the news? It's horrible! David is a monster! He forced me to say those things!"
Jia's voice was ice-calm. "Hello, Selina. I'm watching you on TV right now. It's quite a performance."
There was a stunned silence on the other end. "J-Jia? What do you mean? I'm telling the truth!"
"Are you?" Jia asked softly. "Let's see. Do you remember lunch at the club last month? You told me, and I quote, 'It's a shame your father is so incompetent. David says he could run Chen Enterprises with his eyes closed.' You weren't a victim then, Selina. You were a scout."
Another silence, thicker this time. The reporters surrounding Selina were leaning in, microphones catching every word of Jia's side of the conversation, broadcast live.
"That's... that's not what I meant!" Selina stammered.
"And what about the text you sent me the night my father announced our financial crisis?" Jia continued, her voice like a scalpel. "The news wasn't public. How did you know? Did David's 'little birdie'—Mr. Ling—tell you? Or were you the birdie?"
The trap was sprung. Jia had cornered her with her own words, in front of the entire city. The facade of the grieving friend shattered in real-time.
"I... I don't have to listen to this!" Selina shrieked, her composure gone. "You're just bitter because your husband is a lying fraud and your family is finished!"
The line went dead. On the screen, Selina shoved the reporters away and fled inside her building, her reputation in tatters.
Jia put down the phone. Her hands were trembling, but her spirit felt lighter than it had in years. She had fought back.
Leo was looking at her with an expression that made her heart stutter—a mixture of raw admiration and something deeper, hotter.
"The empress has arrived," he said, his voice husky.
He crossed the room in two strides, cupping her face in his hands. "You were magnificent."
And then he kissed her.
It was not the kiss of a contract or a disguise. It was a claiming, a promise, a union of two equals who had found each other in the wreckage. The romance that had simmered beneath layers of deception and strategy finally exploded into flame.
When they broke apart, breathless, the world outside was still in chaos. But inside the penthouse, a new alliance had been forged. The faceslapping was complete. The revenge was underway. And the divorce was a forgotten relic of a past life. Together, they would build a new empire.