"Emily, about what you're doing," he started, his tone somewhat stern.
"This sneaky journalist approach, digging into my past, isn't going to get you anywhere."
Emily looked taken aback by his harsh tone and quietly replied.
"I'm just doing my job...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
***A Price to Pay***
Olivia was summoned to the fortified penthouse of Vincent Sorrento and led through layers of security by armed, emotionless guards.
The show of force was even more pronounced than before; each sentinel was a silent testament to the danger and power within these walls.
Vincent stood by the window, his tall figure exuding an aura of control and menace. As Olivia entered, his voice, rich with confidence, filled the room.
"Ms Grant, I trust you understand the importance of this meeting?"
Olivia's irritation was palpable; her voice tinged with annoyance.
"I don't see why I had to come here. We could have handled this over the phone. I don't want any connection to this place."
Vincent's eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a cold smile.
"I believe you'll want to hear this in person. The plan is ready to go into action, but there's one last term I need you to agree to. I didn't mention it before."
Olivia's eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger warring within her.
"And what would that be?"
Vincent turned from the window, his eyes filled with a calculating glint.
"A significant stake in your company, Ms Grant, or something equally precious. Perhaps something personal that you value above all else."
Olivia's face paled, her breath catching in her throat. This was more than business; it was a calculated assault on her very identity, her core.
"You're demanding a part of me!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with disbelief.
"Oh, I am," Vincent replied, his voice smooth as silk, his eyes unyielding.
"You want me to destroy Carrington and Turner? Then you must be willing to sacrifice something of equal value."
Olivia's mind reeled; the request was cold, calculating, stripping away her control and leaving her exposed. But her hatred, her driving need for revenge, was all-consuming.
"I'll do it," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of loathing and determination.
Vincent's smile was triumphant, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"I knew you would, Ms Grant. Welcome to my world. The game has truly begun."
>>>
Vincent's eyes flicked to a photo on his desk, the image of Isabella Bellini caught in a candid moment.
