Faux Vows, True Desires novel Chapter 477

Stefan glanced up from the pile of documents he had been pretending to read and caught Owen's gaze fixed intently upon him. With a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he teased, "What's with the stare, Owen? Jealous that I've got the edge in looks and luck?"

He gave a narcissistic chuckle and added, "Always thought I had the upper hand – in looks, in success, and definitely in good fortune."

Owen winced internally. It hurt because Stefan was right.

Wasn't Stefan always the one with the better luck, the charmed life?

Envy clouded Owen's eyes as he looked at Stefan.

Stefan raised an eyebrow. "Out with it. What brings you to my office? You're back from your business trip, and you come straight to me instead of running to Cecilia? I'm flattered."

Swallowing his jealousy – years of it, enough to turn grapes into the sourest wine – Owen said, "I need to talk to you, Stefan."

"Shoot," Stefan replied, his tone surprisingly mellow.

Owen stood up, poured himself a glass of lukewarm water, and downed it in one go, as if hydrating could somehow bolster his courage.

Stefan watched patiently, waiting for him to spill the beans.

Owen then walked to the office door, peeked out to make sure the coast was clear, and when Iris, the assistant, approached with a polite, "Mr. Martinez, do you need any help?" he quickly shooed her away.

"I need to discuss some big-time stuff with the boss man here," he told her. "Keep everyone out, even if it's the president himself."

Iris smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Mr. Martinez. Your conversation with our boss won't be disturbed."

Once Iris had returned to her desk, Owen closed the door, sat down across from Stefan, and asked, "Your office is bug-free, right?"

"As safe as a church on Sunday. Now, spill it. You've got my curiosity piqued."

Owen's face turned beet-red.

Stefan was puzzled, wondering what could make Owen blush like a maiden.

"Spit it out, man. What's got you all tied up in knots?" Stefan prodded.

Taking a deep breath, Owen blurted out, "I think I might be... impotent."

Stefan's jaw dropped.

Owen, impotent?

After a long silence, Stefan slowly stood up, leaned over the desk, and peered down as if he could just look and see the problem.

Instinctively, Owen clamped his legs shut.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Owen snapped, shoving Stefan away.

Stefan sat back down, unsure whether to laugh or offer sympathy. Eventually, he opted for the latter, saying, "I'll ask around, see which doc's the best for this sort of thing. You're young. With early treatment, you should be fine."

"Silence costs, my friend. Let's make it two million a year for a lifetime of secrecy. You calculate how many years you've got left."

Owen was incredulous. "Stefan, you might as well rob a bank!"

Stefan laughed. "Why would I rob a bank when I'm the one filling them? Besides, we're rivals, remember? You've been gunning for me since we were kids. Why would I do you any favors? And hey, you came to me. A fat goose waddling into my lair? I'd be a fool not to feast."

Resigned to his fate, Owen muttered, "I should've known better than to trust you."

Owen stood there, speechless, as Stefan shoved a piece of paper with his bank account details into Owen's hand, his grin wide and mischievous. "Don't forget to transfer the cash, buddy. Taking money from you, Owen, just makes my day a whole lot brighter, ha!"

Owen was fuming.

"Aren't you leaving yet? If you linger, I'll charge you extra for wasting my time. Time is money, you know."

Stefan was clearly giving him the boot.

He was swamped with work.

Clutching the note, Owen's face was a thundercloud as he spat out, "You're a swindler!"

"Pot calling the kettle black," Stefan retorted with a smirk. "Take care now, don't forget to send that money, alright?"

Owen was left standing, speechless and seething.