Chapter 10:Who am I?!!

Chapter 10

System Rule #3: Villains suffer because the world has failed them. Offer them understanding, not judgment.

Eleanor's Rule #3: Villains suffer because they are weak. Strength commands respect.

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Who the Hell Are You?

Lucas Carter was not an easy man to rattle.

He thrived in chaos, wielded manipulation like a scalpel, and had the kind of cold, calculated mind that could collapse economies with a signature. Yet, at this moment, as he watched me from across the dimly lit VIP booth, his fingers gripping his glass just a little too tightly, I saw it—

A flicker of uncertainty.

And wasn't that just delightful?

"You're asking the wrong question," I said, tilting my head.

Lucas leaned back, lazily swirling his drink, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. "Am I?"

I smirked. "Instead of 'who the hell are you,' perhaps you should be asking, how do I know what I know?"

Lucas exhaled through his nose, like he was humoring a child. "Alright, then. How do you—"

"You never planned on inheriting Carter Industries," I interrupted, watching his pupils dilate ever so slightly. "Not in the traditional sense, anyway."

His amusement faltered, just a bit.

"You set up offshore accounts under shell corporations years before your father fell ill. And when he did, you didn't fight for the company—you let Alexander take the reins because you knew something the rest of the world didn't."

Lucas didn't react, but I could feel the shift in the air.

"You knew Carter Industries was already a sinking ship," I continued, voice smooth. "Overleveraged, internally rotting. So you let Alexander play CEO while you moved your real assets elsewhere. The moment the stocks tank, you'll swoop in—not to save it, but to pick its corpse clean."

I leaned in, voice dropping. "You were never planning to take over Carter Industries, Lucas. You were planning to destroy it."

Silence.

The kind of silence that could strangle.

Lucas placed his glass down with an eerie sort of calm. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, quiet.

"…And how exactly do you know that?"

I smiled. "Because where I come from, I've seen men like you before."

He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "Cute. But that's not an answer."

"You want an answer?" I exhaled, stretching my fingers over the table. "Fine. I'll give you one."

I met his gaze head-on, my voice a razor's edge.

"I am not Eleanor Sinclair."

Lucas stilled.

"I wear her name, her face, and walk her path, but I am not her," I continued smoothly. "The woman you met two years ago? She was weak. Petty. A socialite playing at power. I am not."

I tapped the side of my head. "I remember things I shouldn't. I know things I have no way of knowing. Like the fact that your offshore accounts are linked to a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands under the alias Vincent Hale. Like the fact that you've been manipulating market trends through backdoor deals with the Huang Conglomerate. Like the fact that three days from now, you'll send an encrypted message to a certain Matthias Laurent, finalizing the liquidation of Carter Industries' remaining assets."

Lucas didn't move.

His entire demeanor didn't change—his breathing remained steady, his expression neutral. But his eyes…

His eyes were calculating.

Then, after a beat, he let out a soft laugh.

"Hah. Wow." He shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. "You actually expect me to believe that?"

I arched a brow. "You don't have to."

Lucas scoffed. "You sound like a delusional lunatic."

"Maybe."

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my palm. "But tell me, Lucas… How many people know about Matthias Laurent?"

His jaw tightened.

"How many people have access to those accounts?"

Lucas said nothing.

"How many people have ever seen the real blueprint of your plan?" I tilted my head. "I imagine the number is very, very small."

Lucas inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.

Then, he smiled.

Not his usual lazy, amused smirk. No, this was different—razor-sharp, assessing.

"…Interesting."

I smiled back. "I'm glad you think so."

Lucas hummed, studying me like I was an unpredictable stock market trend.

"…If you really aren't Eleanor," he mused, "then what are you?"

I exhaled dramatically. "Ah, the existential questions. A soul displaced, a queen without a throne. Call it what you will." I flashed a grin. "But what matters is this: I have no interest in this world's rules."

Lucas leaned back, smirking again, but there was a new edge to it. "And yet, you want me as your subordinate."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because," I said, "power needs power. I don't reform villains, Lucas. I rule them."

Lucas let out a low whistle. "Damn. That was dramatic."

I shrugged. "I have a flair for theatrics."

He exhaled, shaking his head. Then—he laughed.

A full, genuine laugh this time.

"Alright, Eleanor," he said, lifting his glass again. "You've got my attention."

I smirked.

Good.