Chapter 263 Demands
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Since Anneliese carried herself with such defiance, Melanie no longer felt the urge to step in.
Anneliese had let her down too many times, and she decided it was best to leave her to the punishment of her father and brothers.
“Come on, Selina. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll put something cold on that bruise, or you’ll never be able to walk outside tomorrow,” Melanie said softly, her voice dripping with pity.
She held Selina’s hand and led her toward the stairs.
Selina nodded with a practiced sweetness, but before leaving, she threw Anneliese a look, her eyes sharp with mockery and swollen with pride.
Anneliese’s own cheek was puffed and red, yet no one reached for her. She stood alone, deserted in the middle of the room.
The contrast was cruel. Behind that proud face of hers, her heart must have been breaking in silence.
Selina looked on and felt a surge of delight, like watching her rival finally stumble.
Yet Anneliese did not glance at her, nor at Melanie.
When the two of them disappeared upstairs, Timothy did not raise his hand again. Instead, he lifted it with hesitation, his voice touched with regret as he said, “Anne, I didn’t mean to hit you. I…”
His words fell flat when Anneliese stepped back two paces, retreating from him like he carried a sickness she could not bear to touch.
Her voice was hard and cold. “Spare me that act. Cut to the chase,”
Timothy’s expression froze. His chest sank heavy with the truth that this daughter of his could never again be softened with kindness.
He dropped onto the sofa, staring at her lonely figure, his tone clipped and unyielding.
“You will call Zacharias right now. You will tell him that the five hundred million you put in was given to White Inc. by your own choice.”
Anneliese let out a sharp laugh. “Sometimes I wonder if you walk around with your heads filled with nothing but hot air. I already cut my name from this family. I have no ties to you
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anymore. Why would I throw my money into your family’s hole? Just because your heads are empty doesn’t mean mine is.”
Perseus barked back, his anger breaking loose. “If White Inc. falls, you won’t be spared from the damage either!”
Anneliese smirked. “And my comment about your heads stands. You’re the one begging for help, but you think you’re doing me a favor instead.”
my
Christopher’s rage snapped.
“You’re begging to be slapped, Anneliese!”
He stormed toward her, hand raised high, but Timothy’s shout struck through the air. “Chris, don’t touch her!”
Christopher stopped cold, his chest rising and falling in fury as he dropped back onto the couch. Timothy spoke again, his voice laced with strained control. “What I promised you at the banquet is still good. Ten percent of the shares are yours. Make the call now, and I’ll sign this moment.”
Perseus pulled out a folder and placed it on the table with a thud.
They had never wanted to show her those papers, hoping she would prove her loyalty without bargaining.
To them, Anneliese was still the same, blind to her duty, unwilling to rise above herself.
This was the time she should have given without expecting anything back, proving her devotion to family in the darkest hour.
That would have proven her worth and tied her closer to them. They would have loved her as much as they loved Selina. Yet her vision was narrow.
But signed papers meant everything was now just a cold trade.
Christopher leaned forward, his tone sharp. “That deal is as good as it gets. Call him.”
He stood, pulled up Zacharias‘ number, and forced the phone into Anneliese’s hand.
Timothy raised his pen, his hand already poised to sign.
The three of them looked at her with full certainty, convinced she would yield.
The thought made her lips twitch with bitter amusement.
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She accepted the phone, her fingers tightening around it.
Then, under their confident eyes, she flung it with all her strength.
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The crash thundered through the room as the phone struck the vase beside the sofa. The vase split apart, and shards exploded across the carpet.
Splinters cut across Perseus and Christopher’s faces, red lines of blood blooming on their skin.
A sharp sting bit Timothy’s car as a shard grazed past him, and he leapt to his feet in shock.
He looked at his sons‘ bloodied faces, his rage bursting loose like a storm. His finger shook as he pointed at Anneliese.
“Lock her in the basement! If she will not listen, then let her sit there without food or water!”
Across the city, Adros had just signed off on the sale of the first airport. The deal was sealed in ink.
Inside the car, Zion grumbled, his voice full of disbelief. “That Adros vulture knows how to milk a deal. Even after the terms were set, he dragged it out two or three more times, trying to shove in hidden traps. Thank God you saw it all coming, Mr. Fullbuster. His face when you cut him off was a sight to remember.”
Jonathan stayed silent. He powered on his phone and slid through the updates with careful
eyes.
This deal mattered. With three airports under AeroAir, the company could unify its brand across several regions and carve out a base for low–cost international flights.
Jonathan pressed his fingers against his temple, his voice steady and commanding.
“I expect non–aviation revenue to break sixty percent within the year. Tell the redevelopment team I want their final plan for expansion and commercial projects immediately.”
“Yes, Mr. Fullbuster.”
The pressure was unending. Jonathan drove harder than the old capitalists ever did.
Zion shivered, his pen scratching across his notebook as he wrote every word.
Jonathan’s voice dropped low, edged with gravity. “Ilas my wife reached out to you?”
Zion, still caught in the rush of tasks, answered without pause.
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