Chapter 63
Chapter 63
The next morning, Sylvia drove out to Century Town on the outskirts of the city.
The town itself was picturesque, lined with rows of villas and boasting comprehensive amenities, but its remote location left it deserted, radiating an air
of desolation.
The person in charge of the town was Quinn Fern, a woman in her forties. She was dressed rather flamboyantly, but her expression was stern, framed by a short, permed hairstyle and black–rimmed glasses.
She eyed Sylvia up and down as she got out of her car, her gaze filled with undisguised hostility.
“So you’re the one who arranged to see me?” Quinn asked curtly.
Although Quinn was older, she clearly felt competitive with younger, attractive women. Seeing Sylvia, whose features and tall, slender figure radiated confidence, sparked an immediate, biting jealousy in her.
Sylvia smiled and extended her hand. “Hello, Ms. Fern. I’m Sylvia Sullivan. I’d like to discuss renting space here.”
Quinn ignored the offered hand, frowning impatiently. “Oh, you just want to rent? I thought you were interested in buying!”
Century Town was the biggest flop of her investment career, leaving her drowning in debt. Now, all she wanted was to unload it onto some unlucky fool.
Sylvia noted her cold attitude but kept her smile in place, though she was inwardly annoyed. “Yes, Ms. Fern. I’m looking to rent for a period to shoot a
film.”
Quinn scoffed. “If you only want to rent, forget it. If you wanted to buy, maybe we could talk.”
Sylvia inwardly sighed. ‘Buy the whole town just to shoot one movie? I’m not crazy. Besides, the location is terrible; whoever bought it would be
throwing their money away!‘
But she knew negotiating wasn’t always easy and decided to try again patiently.
Before she could speak, Quinn cut her off, her tone laced with prejudice. “Don’t bother. Just leave. Stop wasting my time! Look at you, all dressed up,
driving a fancy car at your age.
“You obviously got it from some man, right? I’ve seen your type before. Clearly not here for serious business.”
Sylvia’s expression hardened. “Ms. Fern, business is business, but there’s no need for personal attacks. I expect an apology, now!”
“Apologize?” Quinn looked incredulous, her face full of scorn. “You should be glad I haven’t had security throw you out. And you want an apology?”
She reached for her phone, presumably to call security, but just then, several luxury cars sped into the driveway, braking smoothly in front of them.
Leading the procession was a stretched Lincoln limousine, a limited edition model. Its license plate was a series of eights, and a small flag fluttered from
the hood.
Quinn’s face instantly changed when she saw the limo. That specific stretched Lincoln was unique in Silverton, a symbol of immense power and status- the kind that granted access anywhere.
And that car belonged to him!
Doors opened in unison, and men in dark suits emerged. One quickly moved to open the rear door of the Lincoln.
An imposing man stepped out gracefully from the limousine. He had sharp features and wore an impeccably tailored black suit, his every move radiating an air of commanding authority.
‘It really is Byron Blair!‘ Quinn thought, scrambling to adjust her demeanor.
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“Mr. Blair! What brings you here personally?” Quinn practically tripped over herself, plastering on a wide smile as she hurried to greet him–a complete reversal of her attitude towards Sylvia.
Sylvia’s heart sank the moment she saw Byron. She didn’t need to guess; he was here because of her. ‘And no doubt,‘ she thought bitterly, ‘his goal is to sabotage my deal with Quinn. Given Quinn’s earlier hostility, staying seemed pointless anyway.
Byron glanced coolly at Quinn, then gestured with a perfectly manicured hand towards Sylvia. “She’s my ex–wife. I’m here for her.”
Quinn froze, incredulous. “Mr. Blair… you mean Sylvia… Ms. Sullivan… she was the elusive Mrs. Blaít everyone talked about?”
Everyone knew Byron Blair had married years ago, but his wife’s identity had always been a closely guarded secret. ‘And it was her!‘ Quinn realized.
Sylvia was equally stunned. She never thought Byron would acknowledge their past relationship in front of a stranger.
Byron casually slipped one hand into his pocket. “Ms. Fern, my ex–wife wants to rent this place. Is there a problem?”
His words shocked Sylvia even more. She hadn’t expected him to interfere in her favor, pushing Quinn to rent the town to her.
‘Has he lost his mind?‘ she wondered.
Quinn was dumbfounded. Byron was being this… helpful to his ex–wife? She was divorced too, but her ex–husband had only ever tried to squeeze her dry.
Seeing the mountain of debt from Century Town, he’d skipped the country, leaving her holding the bag. A pang of jealousy struck her.
Sylvia, however, was annoyed by Byron’s unsolicited ‘help. “Byron, stop talking nonsense! That’s all in the past. I have nothing to do with you now!”
After their divorce, she had tried desperately to forget the painful memories, even moving abroad specifically to get away from him.
“Oh? Was I wrong?” Byron retorted dismissively, completely unfazed by Sylvia’s anger. Before, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know about his connection to Sylvia. But now he’d changed his mind. Her indifference towards him was galling, almost unbearable.
He’d make this audacious woman regret it!
Things she struggled to achieve, he could accomplish effortlessly. Whether it was Zander or anyone else, no one could compare to him.
Sylvia felt like she could see right through him, and her face flushed with anger. ‘That arrogant, condescending jerk!‘ she fumed internally. ‘All these years, and he hadn’t changed one bit–always doing things she hated under the guise of ‘helping‘ her.‘
Sylvia scoffed. “Byron, are we close? My business is none of your concern!”
Byron’s gaze turned sharp, and a chilling aura emanated from him.
Standing nearby, Quinn felt a shiver of fear. She knew Byron’s reputation–they called him the “Tyrant“-and desperately hoped his anger wouldn’t turn
on her.
“Ms. Sullivan, please, could you let Mr. Blair an
“What’s the rent here?” Byron asked coldly.
I finish speaking?” Quinn interjected nervously.
Quinn hesitated for a second before blurting out, “Mr. Blair, normally we don’t rent this place out…”
Byron’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
Quinn quickly backpedaled. “Rent! Of course, for you, Mr. Blair, we’ll definitely rent! How long were you thinking of renting for?”
Byron turned his head to look at Sylvia.
Sylvia, furious, snapped, “Forget it! I’m not renting here anymore.”
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Byron’s expression darkened. “Sylvia, think carefully. If you pass this up, you won’t find anywhere else to rent in all of Silverton!”
Sylvia’s face was flushed with anger. She hated accepting Byron’s so–called help, but after a long, tense silence, she finally forced out the words: “One
month.”
After all, this wasn’t like being abroad. Byron’s influence here was immense; she currently had no better options.
