Chapter 48:

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Kellan sat on the edge of his spacious, luxurious bed, staring down at the medical report in his hands, his face devoid of expression. This mansion was his private refuge.

His doctor, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, said, “Mr. Lloyd, your injuries were treated with great care when you were first hurt. There was no further damage, so your recovery is progressing smoothly…”

Kellan barely listened. The doctor’s words felt like distant echoes, but each one seemed to hammer down on the man kneeling by his bedside. Sherman Harrison, Kellan’s long-time assistant, knelt in a posture of deep regret. He knew where the blame lay.

After the doctor left, Sherman, his face full of shame, said, “I messed up. I should’ve caught the danger sooner…”

“Just stop,” Kellan cut him off, his tone sharp but controlled.

The tension in the room was suffocating, and the weight of Kellan’s presence made it hard for anyone to stand tall.

“The person responsible has been captured,” Sherman explained, trying to refocus the conversation. He’d been by Kellan’s side for years and knew Kellan never liked to bring up the past but was more focused on seeking revenge. “It’s one of Hoyt’s people, but no matter what we did, he won’t confess.”

“Dump him in international waters. You know what to do.”

Sherman replied, “I’ll take care of it.”

Kellan’s fingers idly traced the pages of the book. “My dear step-brother’s skills are certainly improving. However, I hear his company’s finances aren’t looking too good. If there’s an audit, their cash flow could dry up. Bankruptcy isn’t far off.”

“I understand completely,” Sherman replied, catching the hint.

Lατєѕτ ϲнαρτєrs ιn g𝒶l𝑛ovєl𝑆.𝗰om

Sunlight streamed through the window, filling the room with warmth that Kellan perhaps ignored as he stared outside, lost in thought. Then, almost absentmindedly, he asked, “What did you find out about Allison Clarke’s time on the island?”

Sherman visibly stiffened, his brow sweating. “Nothing concrete yet. Everything looks clean on the surface. People saw her during those years, but there’s no trace of what she was doing. Her parents’ background is also a blank.”

Kellan wasn’t surprised. That woman was like a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

Sherman, still kneeling, asked cautiously, “Shall we… discreetly take care of her? After all, she did see you stand…”

Kellan set the book aside and shut his eyes briefly. “No need.”

Sherman hesitated, confused. It wasn’t like Kellan to leave loose ends. But Kellan had his reasons. Without pushing further, Sherman took his leave.

In truth, Kellan knew Allison wasn’t someone to trifle with. She was sharp, calculated—perhaps even more dangerous than he was. While she wasn’t an ally, she wasn’t an enemy he needed to deal with just yet.

More than anything, Kellan wasn’t sure if Allison would be intrigued by the idea of collaborating with him. “Allison.” Her name slipped from his lips. “You are quite an enigma.”

He thought back to the time she had coldly gripped his jaw and forced him to swallow poison. Her image blurred with the shadowy figure from that night—both mysterious, both perilous—and yet, he found himself drawn to her, against his better judgment. Slowly, Kellan pressed a hand to his chest, where the memory of Allison applying ointment lingered. He could still feel her fingers, and he hadn’t forgotten the sting of her blade.

Meanwhile, the phone on the bedside table buzzed incessantly.

Kellan’s lips curled into a faint smile. Could it be that Allison had finally decided to align herself with him? Maybe she did need his expertise for something.

“Made up your mind, have you?” he asked leisurely.

On the other end of the line, the manager froze, momentarily bewildered by Kellan’s unusually relaxed tone. He glanced at the calendar out of pure reflex. It was an ordinary workday, so why was Mr. Lloyd in such an uncharacteristically good mood? “Uh… Sir? It’s Adam. Adam Westwood.”

Kellan blinked, speechless for a beat.

The manager’s tentative tone tugged him back to reality, and he glanced down at the phone, now realizing it wasn’t Allison calling after all.

It was Adam Westwood, the general manager of Charisma Company.

“What’s going on?” Kellan’s voice shifted, cool and controlled, no trace of the earlier warmth remaining.

“S-Sir, everything is set as you requested,” Adam stammered, nervously wiping the beads of sweat from his brow. Kellan’s unpredictable moods never ceased to unsettle him, and now Adam wondered if he had imagined the earlier friendliness.

“We’ve arranged all the reporters and media for the Perfumery Competition, and we’ve secured the necessary investors.”

The Charisma Company had gone all in for this event, pouring resources into making the contest an industry-defining spectacle. Adam had pulled strings, rallied media contacts, and sent out press releases designed to spotlight Charisma as the centerpiece of it all.

“Our market value has been steadily climbing this month, sir,” Adam added, reviewing the financial statements on his desk. He knew Kellan’s participation in the International Perfumery Competition under Charisma’s banner had catapulted the company into stardom overnight.

But despite the clamor, Kellan remained an enigma, never stepping into the spotlight. His absence from public view only fueled the media’s obsession with him, making Charisma Company a constant source of fascination.

“Good. Make sure everything stays on track,” Kellan replied, asking a few more detailed questions before hanging up.

In truth, though the world knew him for his mastery of pottery, his true talent had always been in the art of perfumery. He’d earned accolades in every corner of the globe, besting countless challengers. But only one competitor had ever truly defeated him.

Scarlet Snake! That codename alone haunted him. An unassuming figure, supposedly in their sixties, had wiped the floor with him at an international competition, effortlessly claiming the championship. Ever since, Kellan had been quietly investigating, desperate to learn more about this mysterious rival. But the stringent confidentiality surrounding the contest had kept Scarlet Snake’s identity out of reach.

Yet, for all his curiosity, Kellan knew one thing for certain: given the age of his old rival, Scarlet Snake wouldn’t be a contender in this upcoming contest… or would they?

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