Free Web NovelChapter 156: Chapter 156 In the Dream’s Grip
Sylvia’s POV
An hour later, Davidson and I stood outside John’s office suite. The assistant who had blown off Davidson earlier now scrambled to accommodate us, his entire demeanor transformed at my presence.
"Ms. Frost! We had no idea you were coming personally! Please, please come in—Mr. Sinclair will see you right away!"
I raised an eyebrow at his pathetic ass-kissing but said nothing as we were ushered into John’s private office.
John himself rose from behind his desk, all smiles and false warmth. "Ms. Frost! What an unexpected pleasure. I do apologize for not greeting you properly."
I kept my expression stone-cold, despite the wolf inside me wanting to bare her teeth. This man was playing games, and I needed to understand the board before making my move.
"Cut the crap, John," I said coolly, settling into the chair across from him without waiting for an invitation. "We both know why I’m here."
He feigned confusion. "I’m afraid I don’t follow—"
"Let’s not beat around the bush," I interrupted. "You agreed to terms. Now suddenly those terms have changed. I’m simply here to understand why."
John’s smile remained fixed, but something calculating entered his eyes. He was getting off on this—the power play, having me come to him. The silence stretched between us, and I could practically feel him savoring every second.
"Ms. Frost," he finally said, leaning back in his chair. "Surely a businesswoman of your caliber understands that circumstances change. Markets shift. Risks must be reevaluated."
I tilted my head, studying him like prey. "And what circumstances have changed in the forty-eight hours since we shook hands?"
"LC Group has a reputation to maintain," he continued, completely dodging my question. "Partnering with a company like Frostline—relatively unknown in international markets—represents a significant gamble on our part."
My wolf bristled at the deliberate insult, but I kept my voice level. "A gamble you were dying to take at the gala. What’s the real reason, John? Did someone make you a better offer?"
His eyes flickered—bingo. I’d struck a nerve. "I’m simply adjusting the terms to reflect the actual value proposition. The cost increase is reasonable considering the risk."
"Reasonable?" The laugh that escaped me was sharp enough to cut glass. "You’ve nearly doubled the capital requirement. That’s not an adjustment—that’s highway robbery."
John’s façade of politeness cracked, revealing something uglier beneath. "Call it whatever you want, Ms. Frost. The new terms stand. If Frostline can’t meet them..." He shrugged. "Perhaps you’re not ready for international expansion after all."
The condescension in his tone made my fingers curl into fists. Every instinct screamed at me to put this bastard in his place. Instead, I leaned forward slightly.
"Is there room for negotiation?" The words tasted like poison, but Frostline’s cash reserves couldn’t handle the new demands without gutting our other operations.
"The terms are set in stone," he replied, acting like he was doing his nails. "I do hope Frostline can meet them. I was so looking forward to our partnership."
His fake sincerity made me want to throw up. I stood up, my mind made up. "Then I believe we have nothing further to discuss."
His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "You’re walking away? Just like that?"
"Frostline Enterprises doesn’t partner with sharks," I said coolly. "Good day, Mr. Sinclair."
I turned on my heel and walked out, Davidson hot on my heels. Once we were in the corridor, safely out of earshot, he leaned in anxiously.
"Sylvia, what the hell just happened? Did you really pull the plug on negotiations?"
I kept walking, my spine rigid, despite the chaos churning inside me. "For now." frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
"But—this project was supposed to be our golden ticket to the European market! What are we going to do?"
I stopped dead at the elevator, finally letting some of my frustration show. "We’re not bleeding the company dry to meet his ridiculous demands, if that’s what you’re asking. That would be financial suicide."
"But if we don’t—"
"If we don’t," I cut him off like a knife, "we find another way. This isn’t over, Davidson. It’s just a bump in the road."
As we rode down in suffocating silence, I fought against the wave of panic threatening to pull me under. I’d bet everything on this partnership, positioned it as my first major victory as CEO. My mother would see this as more proof that I wasn’t cut out for leadership. That I still didn’t have the ruthless streak needed to run the Frostfang Pack.
My wolf snarled inside me, pacing like a caged animal. Something about John’s sudden about-face felt wrong—too sharp, too calculated. He hadn’t simply had second thoughts; someone had gotten to him. Someone who wanted to watch me crash and burn.
"Sylvia?" Davidson’s concerned voice snapped me back to reality as we reached my car. "What’s our next move?"
"There’s always a way," I said, sliding into the driver’s seat.
The drive home dragged on forever, the weight of the blown negotiation crushing down on me like a physical force. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles went white. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, sensing my distress but helpless against this particular enemy. freёwebnoѵel.com
Once inside my apartment, I kicked off my heels and face-planted onto the couch, allowing myself a rare moment of vulnerability now that I was alone. The dead silence around me was both a blessing and a curse.
"This is bullshit," I muttered, massaging my throbbing temples. John’s complete 180 seemed too calculated, too sudden. Before today, he’d been all smiles and handshakes about our partnership. What the hell had changed?
I needed to dig deeper, find out what—or who—was pulling the strings behind this reversal. Business deals went south all the time, but this felt personal, like someone had a target on my back.
Rising from the couch with renewed fire, I poured myself a glass of wine and opened my laptop. After sending a few emails to my contacts in the European market, I slumped back and let out a long breath.
The apartment stayed dark and quiet as I wandered through it. Helena and Caesar weren’t home, which was a small blessing. The last thing I needed tonight was to face Helena’s shit-eating grin or her passive-aggressive digs. Though I’d grown used to her hostility, not having to deal with it was a welcome break.
After a quick shower, I slipped between the cool sheets, exhaustion finally overtaking my racing mind. Yet even as sleep dragged me under, my face stayed tense, my dreams haunted by imagined scenarios of facing the board, explaining how I’d blown our shot at the European market.
I could already see my mother’s look of disappointment, hear the whispers among the pack elders questioning whether I had what it took to lead. How many eyes were on me, just waiting for me to fall flat on my face? How many would secretly celebrate seeing the Frost heiress stumble?
The pressure was suffocating. In the darkness of my bedroom, I let myself acknowledge the terror I’d been shoving down all day—the fear of failing, of proving right everyone who’d ever doubted me. My wolf whimpered softly in my mind, sharing my anguish.
Tomorrow I would need to be bulletproof again, to put on the mask of the confident, unflappable CEO. But tonight, in the privacy of my dreams, anxiety and self-doubt followed me into fitful sleep.
