Chapter 197: Unholy Alliance

The following morning, Charlotte arrived at the Vista Building thirty minutes before her scheduled meeting.

She had chosen a white sleeveless mini dress that hugged her figure without looking overly provocative, paired with nude heels and a small designer handbag. ℯℯ𝑙.

Her hair was swept neatly over one shoulder, and her makeup was flawless.

She had spent far too long in front of the mirror that morning. Not because she wanted to impress Marco Pollus. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

The secretary who had arranged the appointment had made one thing very clear.

If you’re late, don’t bother coming.

Charlotte had no intention of making that mistake.

She sat in the luxurious reception area, one leg crossed over the other, pretending to be absorbed in her phone while the minutes slowly ticked away.

Her stomach tightened as the appointed time approached.

This was it.

She was about to ask Kristoff Dalton’s most formidable business rival to help her destroy him.

There was no turning back after this.

When the secretary finally appeared, Charlotte released a slow breath and rose from her seat.

"This way, Miss Harris."

She followed the woman through a private corridor and toward the elevator reserved for executives and important guests.

When the doors opened on the top floor, Charlotte immediately understood why the Pollus empire had been spoken about with such respect.

The CEO’s office occupied almost the entire top floor of the tower.

It was a vast corner suite enclosed by floor-to-ceiling windows, offering an uninterrupted view of the city.

Even from the doorway, Charlotte could see skyscrapers stretching toward the horizon, their glass facades reflecting the brilliant morning sunlight.

The weather was unusually clear.

Beyond the sprawling cityscape, distant mountains formed a faint blue silhouette against the sky. Far below, streams of traffic wound through the streets, their colorful vehicles moving like tiny beads along gray ribbons.

From this height, the city looked almost unreal.

Beautiful. Small. And completely conquerable.

Charlotte’s gaze slowly traveled across the room.

The office itself was a reflection of its owner.

Elegant. Imposing. Impeccably controlled.

Nothing was ostentatious, yet everything spoke of wealth and authority.

Dark mahogany paneling covered portions of the walls. A thick gray carpet softened the polished floor, while sleek black leather furniture occupied the sitting area near the door.

A massive mahogany desk stood at the center of the room.

Its surface was almost completely bare except for an expensive laptop an a coffee mug.

There was no clutter. No unnecessary decoration. No personal photographs.

Everything had its place.

Charlotte’s eyes moved toward a massive digital map mounted on one of the walls.

It displayed the country’s major cities and regions, dotted with hundreds of illuminated markers.

Each marker represented a Pollus property or an ongoing development.

Hotels. Condominiums. Office towers. Shopping complexes. Entire residential communities.

Hundreds of projects spread across the country.

Charlotte swallowed.

The Pollus empire was every bit as vast as the Dalton empire.

Indeed... a worthy opponent.

Her attention shifted to several illuminated shelves along the opposite wall.

Architectural models stood behind glass.

At first, she assumed they were all Pollus developments.

Then she recognized one.

Her eyes narrowed.

Another model caught her attention. Then another.

She knew those buildings.

She had seen their blueprints and models before. In Kristoff’s office. They were Dalton Realty projects.

Charlotte’s brows drew together.

Why are Kristoff’s projects here?

Her curiosity drew her farther into the room.

She studied the miniature buildings more closely.

Some were luxury condominiums. Others were five-star hotels and massive commercial towers. Several were projects still under construction.

Each model represented millions—perhaps billions—in investment.

But why would Marco have them?

Was he studying them? Analyzing them? Looking for weaknesses?

Or had he simply been keeping a close eye on his greatest rival?

"Are you done looking around?"

Charlotte froze.

Her heart gave an embarrassing little jump.

She slowly turned.

The man behind the massive desk was watching her.

Marco Pollus.

He was observing her the entire time.

He sat comfortably in a black ergonomic chair, one hand resting against the armrest, his expression unreadable.

Then one corner of his mouth lifted.

A faint, amused smirk.

So this woman knew how to be embarrassed.

Charlotte felt heat creep up her neck. She straightened immediately.

"Come and sit, Miss Harris."

His voice was deep and smooth, carrying the rich resonance of a baritone.

There was something effortlessly commanding about it.

Charlotte forced herself to walk toward him.

Her heels clicked silently against the carpeted floor as she crossed the room, each step graceful and measured, almost as though she was walking a runway.

She refused to let him see how nervous she was.

She settled into one of the two visitor’s chairs positioned in front of his desk.

Marco remained where he was.

For a moment, neither spoke.

He simply studied her. Not rudely. Not openly. But with the sharp, assessing gaze of a man accustomed to evaluating people as carefully as he evaluated business proposals.

Charlotte shifted slightly beneath his scrutiny.

She suddenly understood why men twice his age seemed intimidated by him.

Marco didn’t need to raise his voice to command attention.

The room seemed to do it for him.

It was quiet. Controlled. Almost intimidating.

And Charlotte couldn’t shake the feeling that her soul... her innermost thoughts were being laid bare before him.

Marco leaned back in his chair.

"So," he said calmly, "why did Miss Harris come to see me?"

"I..." Charlotte hesitated.

Her carefully rehearsed words suddenly vanished.

"I..."

Marco’s lips twitched.

"Are you nervous?"

The question snapped her back to reality.

Charlotte straightened her shoulders and schooled her expression.

"Not nervous."

Her voice was firmer this time.

"I came here to propose an alliance."

Marco’s eyebrows rose slightly.

"An alliance?"

He leaned forward, resting his forearms against the desk.

For the first time, his interest became obvious.

"Yes."

Charlotte met his gaze.

"I want you to defeat Kristoff Dalton in business."

Silence.

Marco stared at her for several seconds, then he leaned back slowly.

A smile spread across his face. Not a friendly smile. An intrigued one.

"That’s interesting."

His gaze traveled over her face, searching for something.

"But aren’t you Kristoff Dalton’s fiancée?"