Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143: Dave Ravensdale

The next day, Desmond arrived at one of the city’s most exclusive high-end clubs. It was the kind of place where people with power and money came to relax, discuss deals, or quietly pull the strings that moved companies and even governments.

Tonight, Desmond had arranged a meeting with the only person who had agreed to help him in the difficult situation he found himself in.

Ever since he took the temporary lead at the Allen Group, Desmond had built quite a network of friends and supporters—far more than he ever had back when he was just the vice president.

But with power came painful lessons. And the biggest lesson he had learned? When things go wrong, most people disappear.

In the last few weeks, Desmond had reached out to nearly every one of his high-society contacts. He had called in favors, visited them personally, and even humbled himself enough to ask for loans to stabilize his crumbling hold over the company. But no one helped. Not even one.

Most of them had smiled politely, made empty promises, and then turned their backs on him. While some encouraged him to try someone else. In summary, he learnt one lesson "you are lonely when you are down."

It was during one of these disappointing visits that he came across a name—an introduction, really. A young entrepreneur, rich, bold, and rising fast. He already owned several companies across different industries and was known to be a sharp, fearless investor. Someone who didn’t mind getting his hands dirty if the reward was worth it.

Desmond had never met him before, but something told him this might be his last shot.

Taking a deep breath, Desmond stepped out of his car in front of the club. He handed the keys to the valet and nodded briefly. Even now, he carried himself with the pride and confidence of a top-tier executive of the Allen Group. But inside, his nerves were buzzing.

As he entered the club, the rich scent of wine and expensive cigarettes filled the air. The lighting was soft, the music low and tasteful. A waiter approached him with a slight bow.

"Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes," Desmond replied with a nod.

The waiter checked a small device in his hand, scanning the list. Then, with a professional smile, he gestured. "Right this way, sir."

Desmond followed him through a short hallway, past other private lounges where hushed conversations were taking place. Finally, they stopped in front of a white door.

"We’re here," the waiter said, pulling the door open slightly and gesturing inside.

Desmond hesitated. He had expected to see someone waiting—perhaps a stern older man or younger in a suit. But the room was empty. His heart skipped a beat in fear of being disappointed.

Still, he stepped inside, nodding his thanks to the waiter, who left quickly. The room was quiet and dimly lit, furnished with a long leather couch, a glass coffee table, and a mini bar in the corner with glasses lined up.

A female server soon came in with another set of light drink and glass. Desmond took the drink from her hand, and placed it on the bar counter without tasting it. His instincts had sharpened lately, and he didn’t trust anything right away anymore.

Time passed slowly. Seconds stretched into minutes. Minutes turned into nearly an hour. Desmond’s patience wore thin. He began pacing the room, hands behind his back, eyes darting to the door every few seconds.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and he couldn’t calm it. Every minute that passed made him feel like a fool, like someone being tested or toyed with. Worst of it all, he feared being disappointed.

Finally, just as he was about to leave and the door creaked open.

Richard stepped in casually. Young, confident, dressed sharply in an expensive suit. He carried himself with ease, as though this room and the tension inside it belonged to him.

Desmond froze, stunned for a second. "Already leaving?" the man asked, arching an eyebrow as if amused.

Desmond straightened. "I was about to step out for a moment."

Richard walked further in without offering his name. Instead, he glanced at his wristwatch and smirked. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Something came up." He had been the one to tip him off to seek them out following Jessica’s instruction and it was fun.

Desmond didn’t respond. He didn’t like the smugness in the man’s tone, but he was in no position to complain.

Richard skillfully pulled out the file that had been sighed earlier and tossed it on the glass table. The sound made Desmond’s pulse quicken.

Cold sweat formed on his forehead. His fingers trembled slightly as he held the paper closer, trying to convince himself it wasn’t what he thought it was. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

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