A Fake Heiress’s Guide to Love and Power novel Chapter 414

Hamilton glanced at Alessia, and for a split second, he felt ancient–like his ears had betrayed him.

Bacchus watched the scene unfold, silently applauding in his mind.

*Of all the people to provoke, you just had to pick these two little devils who never forget a grudge.* Bacchus shook his head, lighting an imaginary candle for Hamilton’s doomed soul.

“Don’t push your luck!” Hamilton suddenly shot to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at the siblings. He looked so unsteady that Bacchus half–expected him to collapse and fake an injury right then and there.

“Hamilton, actions have consequences,” Max replied calmly, not rising from his seat. “If you refuse to accept that, you’re only making things harder for everyone.”

Despite Hamilton’s outburst, the siblings sat unfazed, not budging an inch. There was no sign of retreat or hesitation.

“How much do you want? Name your price!” Hamilton stared at Max, defeat flickering in his eyes.

Hamilton, I’m not sure you realize,” Alessia interjected, arching her brow as if she’d just heard a joke, “but my brother and I run a company that makes more in a day than the Quincy family does in a month.”

“Then what do you want?” Hamilton snapped, his voice strained.

“It’s simple. An apology,” Max said, his tone suddenly cold. The siblings‘ smiles faded, replaced by a palpable sense of authority.

Hamilton’s face darkened, but he didn’t immediately refuse–not like at the beginning. He was weighing his options, desperate for some way

out.

If this document went public, all his past misdeeds would be dragged into the light, and the Quincy family would become a laughingstock. But if Tammie apologized, they’d lose access to the top artists, and the

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Chapter 414

family’s future would be doomed.

Every path was blocked. Hamilton clenched his jaw, finally realizing he had underestimated these two.

“Tammie can apologize,” he muttered, “but only in private.”

“Hamilton, are you confused about something?” Max spoke, his hand resting casually on his knee, predatory and calm, like a hawk eyeing its prey. “You don’t have any bargaining chips left.”

“But I’ll give you a third option.”

“What is it?” Hamilton barked, hope flickering.

“It’s simple. I’ll release this document online and let the public judge you.” Max tossed the folder onto the table in front of Hamilton, his expression as cold as ice–gone was the earlier veneer of politeness. His patience had clearly run out.

“Wait! I choose the second option! The second!” Hamilton’s composure cracked as he shot to his feet, panic overriding his pride.

Bacchus couldn’t hide his grin; he was glad he’d stayed–he wouldn’t have missed this showdown for the world.

“Too late,” Max replied, rising to his feet with chilling calm. “Once I offered the third option, your chance to choose ended.”

“Bacchus, please show Mr. Quincy out.”

“Of course.” Bacchus spun his chair around and dialed the phone.

Within moments, the assistant arrived.

“Mr. Quincy, this way please.”

“Max, don’t think you can walk all over me!” Hamilton sputtered, raising his cane, but Max pressed it down with ease.

The pressure seemed light, but Hamilton found he couldn’t move.

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“You still don’t get it, do you, Hamilton?” Max leaned in, whispering into his ear. “You never had a choice. Not from the very beginning.”

Hamilton’s eyes widened in shock, finally understanding that this so–called negotiation had always been a one–way street.

“See him out,” Max said coldly, not a trace of pity in his voice.

Hamilton stared, stunned and speechless, as the assistant led him away. Max watched without the slightest hint of sympathy.

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