Chapter 114
Once Tony returned to his condominium, he showered and then stretched out lazily, pulling out his phone. This was the first time he had ever fiddled with the Messenger app; he had never had the time or inclination for it before. But after hearing that simple, single word from Myra’s voice note, something about it had a soothing effect on him, almost as if she were present right there with him.
It became a sort of obsession. He lay down on his bed, replaying the voice note over and over. “Okay,” Myra’s voice said, and he pressed replay. “Okay.” Again. “Okay.” Just as he was about to play it again, his phone rang. Naturally, he answered immediately, his voice clipped.
“Are you actually using your phone, Tony? How did you pick up so quickly?” Elliot’s voice came through, sounding surprised.
Tony’s reply was less than cordial. “Spit it out. What is it?”
“It’s a success!” Elliot’s tone remained upbeat, seemingly unfazed by Tony’s gruffness. “Lyla replied to the message on your phone. She kept thanking you, practically throwing herself at you with how eager she sounded! She doesn’t even realize she’s just one of our pawns in this game.”
At the news, Tony allowed his eyebrows to relax for a moment before frowning and scoffing. Elliot was curious about what Tony was thinking. “Sean’s about to divorce Myra. Once that’s done, you’re clear to pursue whoever you want. Your time is coming, Tony.”
The thought of Lyla’s previous interference—when she had orchestrated trouble for Myra at the construction site—flared up Tony’s anger once again. “Once the divorce is finalized, release the news about Estelle being the new ambassador for the Hart Group’s Sunny Bay Project. From now on, no more appearances for Miss Fisher in any of our ads.”
Elliot paused, then chuckled darkly. “Are you getting revenge on Myra through Lyla, Tony? She’d probably be thrilled to find out you’re doing this for her.”
Would she be happy? The question lingered in Tony’s mind as he recalled Myra’s dejected face when she had left the restaurant earlier. His lips curled into a smirk before he ended the call.
He returned to scrolling through Messenger, pausing as he decided to send a message following the voice note he had been listening to. “Are you asleep?”
The reply came almost instantly. “No… Is anything the matter?”
Tony felt a strange sensation stir within him, an unexpected warmth in his chest. He relaxed his expression, typing his response, then quickly rethought it. He added something he had never really considered before, but Elliot had once suggested it: a gentle, caring tone to show interest.
“It’s nothing. You should get some rest,” he typed. But, hesitating, he added, “Good night” at the end, before staring at the message for a while. Then, unsure, he deleted the last sentence and sent the rest.
There was no reply. Tony narrowed his eyes as he stared at the screen, his phone lying on the bedside table. Thirty minutes later, he picked it up again. Still, there was no new message. He scoffed and turned over.
Meanwhile, Myra lay awake, uncertain of her feelings after reading Tony’s text. A voice echoed in her mind. You shouldn’t fall for a man like him. The warning felt familiar—too familiar. She thought of everything she had been through with Sean. Could she go through something like that again? Her fingers tightened around her phone before she finally set it down and closed her eyes.
Tony, however, received a new friend request later that night. He opened it, only to see a profile picture of a plate of food. At first, he thought it was some random account and almost ignored it, but something urged him to accept the request. A message came through, followed by a photo.
“Have you ever tried pasta prepared by Myra, Tony?”
Tony didn’t need to guess who it was. His face darkened as he stared at the image of the bolognese pasta. So, the old man went to visit Myra… he thought, frustration bubbling inside him. Why didn’t she tell me?
Annoyed, he scoffed and dismissed the message.
Meanwhile, Sebastian, having recently learned to use the Messenger app from Henry, stared at his phone, pouting. Why is my own grandson ignoring me? he thought before quickly typing a follow-up message.
“You must be jealous now, right? You have no idea how amazing Myra’s cooking was. It was so good that I almost swallowed my tongue. Of course, you probably don’t understand; you haven’t tasted it!”
Tony glared at the message. He was irritated—not just at the fact that his grandfather was so childish, but at the whole situation. He quickly typed back, his fingers working angrily over the screen.
“What’s there to be proud of? I’ve had the soup she made. That pasta is no big deal.”
Sebastian’s brows furrowed when he read Tony’s reply. How dare she prepare soup for him! he thought angrily. She’s not even his girlfriend yet! He stared at his phone, contemplating a response. Lisa, noticing her husband’s agitation, sighed and muttered, “How childish.” Sebastian threw his phone aside and pulled her close. “I don’t want to talk to Tony anymore. You’re so much better than him, Lisa.”
The next morning, Sean looked completely drained when Eve visited him. Concerned, she asked, “How are things going at the company, Sean?”
Eve had assumed that Richard had everything under control, but seeing Sean’s pale, exhausted face, her concerns deepened.
Before Sean could answer, Lyla’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen, her heart racing. She had been hoping to take the call outside, but something stopped her. I have nothing to hide, she thought, answering it where she was.
“Hello?”
“Greetings, Miss Fisher. After hearing rumors about the Chase Group’s troubles, Director Hart has decided to reconsider purchasing the Hilliville property,” the voice on the other end said.
Lyla’s face drained of color. Before she could respond, the call ended abruptly.
Eve, ever watchful, caught Lyla’s reaction. “Did that big client of ours just change his mind?” she asked sharply.
Lyla, her face pale, turned to Sean. “What’s going on with the company, Sean?”