Part 1: The Annihilation and The Pillow DefenseScene 1: The Speedrun and The Disinheritance
Airon's initial frustration quickly morphed into cold, efficient panic. He grabbed the glass of water Helena had left on the bedside table and, without a moment's hesitation, splashed a generous amount onto her face.
Helena gasped, instantly wide-awake. "What in God's name, Airon!?" she cried out.
"It's 8:05 PM, Helena," Airon stated flatly, his voice razor-sharp. "You have twenty-five minutes to transform from a sleep-deprived potato farmer into the composed D'Arven heir. Get up, get dressed, and don't speak again until we are in the car. Understood?"
Helena quickly scrambled off the bed. She pulled the midnight-blue gown from the bag. Airon, with strong, surprisingly gentle hands, quickly worked the invisible zipper up her back.
Ten minutes later, Helena emerged from the bathroom, polished, unreachable, and composed. She had twisted her long, dark hair into a sleek chignon, but she rejected the heels, slipping on her practical white sneakers underneath the column silhouette of the gown.
"We are already late," Airon stated, grabbing her arm. "I will drive. You will listen."
During the drive, Airon dropped the final, most explosive piece of intelligence: "Tonight is the formal announcement of our engagement to the core Thalorien staff and a few key D'Arven allies."
Helena's face remained rigid, but her internal monologue screamed: He confirmed the betrayal. He forced me into this role, knowing the cost.
As they arrived at the Thalorien manor, Airon's briefing was cut short by a servant who urgently led them to the massive study. The room was packed with the D'Arven and Thalorien families and powerful business witnesses.
Her father didn't waste a second. "Effective immediately, Helena is no longer a shareholder in my company. The shares previously held by her are hereby assigned to Julius."
The Thalorien Patriarch immediately followed: "We have decided that Airon Thalorien will proceed with his original intention and is now formally engaged to Serena Liora."
Airon shot out of his seat. "Father, no! I—"
Helena remained seated, completely composed. Inside, Aika was buzzing with sharp, strategic delight. Perfect! Total annihilation! And I'm officially free!
Scene 2: The Victory and The Threat
Helena stood up slowly, calmly adjusting the sleek gown. "Well, that was efficient," she murmured, loud enough only for those immediately around her, including a paralyzed Airon, to hear.
Without another word, she walked toward the study doors.
The moment she was clear, she allowed herself a massive, silent, triumphant jump. Yes! I'm free! she cheered internally. I never thought I would become a jobless, disinherited Second Lead this soon. This is not bad at all.
Her private celebration was cut short by a presence nearby. She glanced up and saw the industrialist, Vahn, walking directly toward her.
"Ms. Helena," Vahn said smoothly, his eyes sharp. "I saw your very efficient exit."
Helena maintained her cool. "Mr. Vahn. I trust the meeting was productive for you."
Vahn leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, chilling murmur. "Helena, let me be absolutely clear. The South Asian contract, the one your father just reassigned to Julius, is collapsing. It was built entirely on your competence."
"Your brilliant legal mind was the only thing holding it together. Your father's actions tonight were catastrophic. Do not allow Airon Thalorien or your brothers to convince you otherwise. Enjoy your retirement, Ms. Helena. I look forward to seeing the chaos from the sidelines."
Vahn straightened and walked away. Aika's high of freedom was dashed. Wait, he's celebrating this collapse? And he knows I was the only one who mattered? She was dangerously relevant to a major corporate failure, and there was an unknown player who wanted that failure to happen.
Scene 3: The Cost of Arrogance
The silence in the study was shattered by Vahn, who rose from his chair.
"So, gentlemen," Vahn said smoothly. "Given the sudden and rather dramatic restructuring of the D'Arven share control, I think I prefer to take my project back."
He gave a curt, cold smile. "I am not interested in this type of drama."
Two other significant businessmen quickly followed Vahn out the door. The corporate unraveling had begun immediately.
Airon finally spoke, his voice tight. "Helena wasn't just assigned the South Asian project, Father. She was the entire point of the project. Vahn only agreed to the contract because of Helena's specific expertise in regulatory law and corporate litigation."
Airon tossed the velvet ring box onto the desk. "We didn't lose Helena's shares; we lost the legal foundation of the entire merger."
He grabbed his coat. "The Thalorien-D'Arven merger is now on life support. I need to go."
"Go where?" the Patriarch demanded.
Airon paused at the door, a look of cold fury and calculation in his eyes. "To the only person in this family who actually understands the South Asian contract and who Vahn might still listen to."
Airon walked out, leaving the room reeling from the true cost of their actions.
Scene 4: The Final Confrontation
Helena moved through the party hall and called her driver. Ten minutes later, she was home. She quickly tossed the expensive gown onto the floor and changed into a large t-shirt and sweatpants. She pulled the comforter up to her chin, closed her eyes, and instantly fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The entire ordeal was treated by Aika as a minor evening chore. Her only genuine priority was rest.
Airon Thalorien slammed Helena's door open at 8:05 AM.
"Wake up, Helena! We have a crisis! Vahn pulled the contract! Get up! We are going to his office right now."
Helena blinked sleepily and gave a massive yawn. "Go away, Airon," she mumbled, pulling her arm back. "I'm retired. Don't you know I got fired?"
Airon shook her harder. "Helena, this is not a joke! The merger is collapsing! Get up!"
Helena's patience snapped. She bolted upright, her eyes blazing. "I said I want to sleep, okay!" she yelled.
She grabbed a fluffy pillow and threw it directly at his face. Before he could react, she picked up one of her chunky house slippers and hurled that, too. She successfully forced him to withdraw toward the door. She slammed the door shut and violently twisted the lock.
"And listen, Airon!" she shouted through the thick wood. "If you again, without knocking or consent, enter my room, I am going to sue you on a sexual harassment case, got it?! Now get out of my house!"
Part 2: The Blueprint and The PivotScene 5: The Villain's Celebration (Vahn's Phone Call)
Vahn closed the study doors firmly behind him. Once settled in the back of his waiting sedan, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Oh, hi, bro," a smooth voice came from the other side. "How do you remember me now?"
"Don't joke now. I have very nice news," Vahn replied.
"Oh? Did you hit the jackpot, or did Miss Helena finally die?" the voice, which belonged to Noel, replied.
Vahn leaned back. "No, but something much better, actually. She was right now, in front of my eyes, getting banished from her own family's company in front of everyone."
A stunned silence greeted this announcement.
"Wait, you're serious?" Noel finally replied, the calm tone cracking slightly.
"Dead serious. The Thalorien deal is collapsing. We won. She has nothing left," Vahn said.
"That... is excellent work, Vahn. Better than a jackpot," Noel responded, quickly regaining his composure. "Tell me everything. This changes the timeline significantly."
Vahn started to elaborate as the sedan pulled silently out of the Thalorien driveway. Vahn continued his call. "Where are you now, Noel?"
"At home. Where do you think?" Noel replied with casual cynicism.
"Okay, I'm coming then. I'll tell you everything when I arrive."
"Okay, but come with something to eat. I'm starving," Noel requested.
Vahn chuckled dismissively. "Order yourself. You got money, okay?"
"I'll be there in a few minutes, so order for me as well," Noel insisted, and then abruptly disconnected the call.
Vahn stared at his phone, a slight look of annoyance crossing his face, quickly replaced by a weary resignation. "This guy... number one selfish and calculating when it comes to money, huh," Vahn muttered to himself. Despite his complaints, Vahn immediately opened a food delivery app and placed an order for both of them.
Scene 6: The Villain's Blueprint (Noel's Apartment)
Vahn reached Noel's sleek, high-rise apartment building. Noel was sitting at a massive desk covered in financial charts.
"Helena D'Arven," Noel murmured, tapping a pen against her name on a display screen. "The primary corporate shield has been neutralized. Excellent work, Vahn."
Vahn dropped the food on a nearby counter. "He didn't account for the fact that Helena's true value was never her shares; it was her legal mind and her reputation for ruthless execution."
Noel finally turned, his eyes—cold, sharp, and strikingly similar to Helena's own dark eyes—fixed on Vahn.
"No, Vahn. The contract being broken is only Stage One," Noel said. "The Thaloriens are desperate; they'll try to bring Helena back as an external consultant. We need to prevent that."
Noel leaned back. "My role, Vahn, is to secure the legacy of my mother, which that family stole. And to do that, Helena D'Arven had to fall completely."
"You remember my half-sister, Helena? Her ruthlessness and legal genius were the only things protecting D'Arven from collapsing into regulatory disaster years ago. She became the single biggest obstacle to the family's ruin."
"Exactly," Noel confirmed. "The D'Arven structure is rotten... Now that she's disinherited, the regulatory lawsuits she had suppressed will resurface. The company will crash, and I will be there to pick up the pieces and restore my mother's honor."
Noel looked back at the screen displaying Helena's name, his expression shifting to something more personal. "Helena may be free now, but she's also utterly exposed. She can't use her corporate armor anymore. We wait for the fallout."
Scene 7: Airon's Swift Pivot
Airon stood outside the locked door, listening to the click of the lock, followed by Helena's sharp threat about sexual harassment. His intense panic began to ebb, replaced by cold, calculating self-reflection.
Why did I react like that? he thought, moving toward the stairs. The volatility that caused Vahn to walk was the D'Arven problem, not mine.
A wave of relief washed over him. The fake engagement was officially dead. Serena.
A sudden, sharp clarity returned. Serena was the woman he was meant to marry, and his father had just publicly confirmed their engagement. His duty now was to his company and his future fiancée. He had one crisis solved (Helena) and one priority to attend to (Serena).
Airon quickly called his driver and returned to the Thalorien manor.
He ignored the severe look of his father and went straight to Saira, who was standing alone by the massive window.
"Saira, please," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I know that was a disaster. You need to know that the original engagement with Helena was a corporate stunt. It was never real."
He gently reached out and took her hand. "What my father announced tonight—that's real. I'm free, Saira. I can finally give you this, properly."
Saira's expression was conflicted. She pulled her hand away slightly. "Airon, I saw her tell you the ring was meant for me. You let the whole room think I was the second choice."
"No, Saira. You were always the only choice, the end goal," Airon insisted. "Helena's value was purely transactional. Yours is everything. Please, just talk to me."
He had shed the liability and regained his true objective.
Scene 8: The Survival Strategy (Aika's Liquidation)
Helena/Aika woke up slowly, the reality of her new circumstances washing over her.
"I think I have to pack my bags," she muttered to her reflection. "Sooner or later, they are surely going to tell me to get out of the house as well."
She packed with efficiency, grabbing only the practical clothes and leaving the high-end designer dresses behind. She packed her most precious possessions: the stacks of old, complex legal and finance textbooks she had inherited from Helena's library. Knowledge was her only asset now.
She sat on the edge of the bed and started counting the cash she had managed to gather. The final tally was grim—enough for maybe a month or two of bare-bones rent. I need capital, and I need it fast.
Her eyes swept across the room, focusing on Helena D'Arven's vast, untouched collection of luxury goods.
The stupid dresses, she thought. It's ridiculous, but it has value.
No time for sentimentality or ethical debate; this was pure liquidation for survival.
Aika started clicking pictures with sharp, professional efficiency, photographing every high-end piece of clothing, accessory, and handbag. The midnight-blue gown, the expensive cashmere coats, the shoes she refused to wear—all of it.
She rapidly uploaded the images onto a high-end online resale and consignment website. She priced everything aggressively to ensure a quick sale.
This isn't about profit, it's about speed, she analyzed internally.
She set up the sale under a newly created, anonymous account, finalized the listings, and then closed the laptop, a small, satisfied smirk touching her lips. She might have been disinherited, but she was resourceful.