THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.
Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

At that moment, James walked up to Cora with eyes that burned like fire.

His lips were pulled back in a sneer, and his voice came low, strained, and bitter.

"You think you’ve won?" he said, taking a threatening step closer. "You think because you stood on that stage and ran your mouth in front of everyone because you somehow got the Victors to back you that makes you victorious?"

He gave a small, scoffing laugh.

"You turned against me, you acted so the Victors could turned against me. And now you’re standing there... smug... thinking you’ve won?" Again he leaned forward slightly. "Let me tell you something."

However Cora’s eyes didn’t flinch. She just stood there calmly, arms loosely crossed, as if watching a tantrum from a stranger.

James didn’t like that. Her calmness... it made his rage bubble hotter.

"I’m going to get this contract, Cora," he growled. "You hear me? I’m going to get it. And when I do oh, you’ll see. It’ll be the shock of the town."

He jabbed a finger in the air between them.

"Everybody’s going to talk about it. About me. James. The one who turned defeat into a crown."

His breathing was sharp now, loud in the empty hall.

"This is just me... telling you, you haven’t won. You haven’t won anything."

At that moment he stepped even closer, the hatred in his eyes so thick it could choke the room. He was staring at her like she was dirt on the sole of his shoe. He wanted her to feel it that bitterness, that resentment, that buried shame.

Then... in that wave of boiling anger, his body twitched.

He raised his hand, he didn’t even think. His fury had pushed him that far.

But just as his hand was about to complete the motion.

his phone rang.

The shrill sound sliced the silence like a dagger, freezing James mid-motion.

His breathing was still heavy, but now the rage was momentarily confused.

He didn’t want to look at it. He didn’t want to be distracted.

But the phone rang again. Relentless, Finally, he yanked it from his pocket with pure irritation ready to silence it without checking.

But then... he saw the caller ID.

And suddenly, like a switch flipped in his head he smiled, and his entire mood shifted.

His grip on the phone tightened, but not in fear. No. It was something else.

"Archibald Everhart."

That was the name glowing on his screen.

The Everhart family, though they weren’t quite as blindingly powerful as the Victor family in terms of current global influence, they had something else. Something deeper. Ties. Networks. Old alliances woven through governments, corporations, and private councils around the world.

The Everharts were not kings, but they were the ones who hosted the table at which kings were invited to sit.

And Archibald Everhart... was the head of that table.

James didn’t speak when he saw the name. He just smiled cold, quiet, and victorious.

With a slow breath, he turned away from Cora and walked toward the far corner of the hall. His steps were steady now. His posture more controlled. He looked like a man reminded of who he really was.

He picked the call with both hands, placing it against his ear respectfully.

At that moment his tone changed instantly.

"Good evening, Sir Archibald," James said, bowing his head slightly though no one could see him. "I wasn’t expecting your call."

His voice was reverent. Measured. He knew what this family represented. They weren’t flashy like the Victors, but they held weight in places others couldn’t even see.

They were the gatherers of power. The architects of silent thrones.

And James despite his ambition, despite his ego knew that when the Everhart called, they answered with head lowered.

Although they were not that top tier, but at least they were, and they were not as powerful as the Victors, but at least their homes, their whole ground when it comes to connection and when it comes to bringing group of investors together, when it comes to bringing group of people together to form a very powerful alliance, they are the go-to people anyone can run to and you will get, and you will definitely succeed.

"Hello, Sir Archibald," he said quickly, almost cutting through the air with urgency and respect.

On the other end of the line, the voice that replied was calm, composed, yet heavy with weight. A voice that didn’t need to shout to be heard. A voice that had once whispered and made nations shift their policies.

"James," Archibald Everhart began, his accent polished and dignified, "I heard there was quite the... eventful disruption at the awards ceremony tonight."

Immediately James glanced over his shoulder at Cora, still standing confidently on the other end of the hall like nothing that had just happened mattered to her.

Archibald continued, "You know, there are some people watching these things closely. And while public messes are unsightly, they also reveal where the pressure points lie... and where potential still breathes."

James didn’t interrupt. He knew better than to speak over Archibald.

"I’d like you to attend a dinner, James," Archibald said. "A private contract dinner. Several parties will be present quietly, of course. Bring your best mind, not your pride."

But before Archibald could say another word, James responded quickly, his voice steady and eager.

"Yes, Sir Archibald. I’ll be there. Just tell me where and I’ll be on my way right now."

There was a short pause—approval lingering in silence.

"Very well. My secretary will send the location to your line in a moment," Archibald said. "We’ll be expecting you."

The call ended.

Immediately, a soft chime echoed from James’ phone. A message. Location attached. A five-star private estate in the hills. No media, no noise. Only those who mattered.

James stared at the screen, lips curling into a slow, calculated smile.

He didn’t care what had just happened with the Victors. If anything, this was kind of better.

Because now, he had leverage. A backdoor into the game. One that even Cora wouldn’t expect.

He could already see it: the proposal he was working on, the potential partnerships, and the names that would be seated at that table tonight. If the Victors were kings, the Everharts were the ones who hosted the war councils.

And James had just been invited in.

James actually couldn’t help but smile because he could tell that definitely, even though if the Victor doesn’t want to give him that contract, he’s going to leverage on this because of the contract he himself was working on.

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