Chapter 253: Plotting Against Him

Charlotte’s expression changed.

He poked at her wound , and he pressed directly against it.

Damn! It hurt. Charlotte cursed silently.

"Don’t say anymore."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Marco’s smile was faint, almost cruel.

"You still care about him."

"I said don’t."

Charlotte turned away.

Her eyes remained fixed on the glowing Dalton logo, but now she could barely see it through the moisture gathering in them.

She hated Marco for seeing through her.

She hated Kristoff for still having this kind of power over her.

And most of all, she hated herself for not being completely free of him.

"Do you know how much he bid just to have her first dance?" Marco asked casually.

His gaze remained fixed on the silver logo glowing on top of the building across, as though he was merely commenting on an insignificant detail.

"More than two million."

Charlotte’s breath caught.

Her hands began to tremble.

She quickly curled them into fists, pressing her nails into her palms until the sharp sting gave her something else to focus on.

More than two million.

For Isobel Lancey...that vixen.

The words echoed inside her head.

She had once thought that she was the woman Kristoff would spend that kind of money on, the woman he would proudly stand beside in front of everyone.

But he stopped looking at her that way.

And he rejected her.

Now...

He was willing to spend millions just for an orphan’s first dance.

A bitter taste rose in Charlotte’s mouth.

She swallowed it down, refusing to let Marco see the jealousy burning behind her eyes.

But her clenched fists betrayed her.

No. She would not cry.

Not here. Not in front of Marco.

She had already cried enough.

She would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Slowly, Charlotte lifted her chin.

When she finally looked at Marco again, the vulnerability was gone.

What remained was something colder.

Something harder.

"If you brought me here to remind me of what I lost," she said, "you’ve wasted your time."

Marco studied her for a moment.

"And what if I brought you here because you’re finally ready to take your revenge?"

Charlotte’s heart gave one traitorous beat.

She hated that it did.

A faint smile tugged at Marco’s lips.

"I admire your fortitude," he said. "Even after all my provocations, you can still keep your composure."

He turned his gaze toward the Dalton headquarters glowing across the city.

"I knew I had chosen the right partner."

His smile deepened.

"So, Charlotte..." His voice lowered. "Shall we start the ball rolling?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?"

Marco turned fully toward the window, his hands slipping casually into his pockets. Below them, the Dalton headquarters stood like an impregnable fortress, its illuminated logo gleaming against the night.

He stared at it for a long moment.

"I want Kristoff Dalton."

A pause.

Then his voice hardened.

"I want to see him defeated."

He paused.

"And I know exactly who can get close enough to hurt him."

Marco stepped closer to the window and stood beside her.

His reflection appeared faintly in the glass.

Then he looked at Charlotte.

"Because," he said quietly, "there is something I want you to do for me."

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.

"What?"

Marco’s smile disappeared.

"I want you to help me destroy Kristoff Dalton."

Charlotte stared at him.

For a moment, she wondered if she had heard him correctly.

"Not physically."

Marco walked toward the bar and poured himself a drink.

"I want his company to fall apart."

Charlotte’s eyes drifted toward the glowing logo of the Dalton real estates across the city.

The buildings looked untouchable from where they stood.

Then her gaze landed on the building across.

Millions of dollars of glass and steel. Decades of reputation. Thousands of employees.

A company built by the Dalton family and protected by Kristoff with an almost obsessive determination.

"You think you can bring down Daltons that easily?"

"I don’t think." Marco took a slow sip. "I know I can."

Charlotte let out a quiet laugh.

"You’re confident."

"I’m prepared."

He placed the glass on the counter.

"Kristoff has something most businessmen spend their entire lives trying to build."

"Money?" Charlotte asked.

"Trust."

Marco replied.

"Clients trust him. Banks trust him. Investors trust him. Contractors trust his company. Even ordinary people recognize the Dalton name."

He turned toward her.

"That’s his weakness."

Charlotte frowned.

"Trust?"

"Trust is an asset."

Marco’s eyes darkened.

"And when people stop trusting you, everything built on that trust begins to collapse."

Charlotte slowly walked toward the window.

She looked down at the city.

"What are you planning?"

"Rumors first."

She glanced at him.

"Rumors?"

"Not wild accusations. Those are too easy to dismiss." Marco’s voice remained calm.

"We start with questions."

"Questions about the company’s projects."

He walked beside her.

"Why did construction costs suddenly increase? Why were certain contractors replaced? Why did an accident happen at Old Town?"

Charlotte’s eyes sharpened.

"The Hugo project."

Marco gave her a knowing look.

"Exactly."

She was silent.

"People don’t need proof to become suspicious," Marco said. "They only need enough uncertainty to start asking questions."

Charlotte considered his words.

"And then?"

"Then we give them something to talk about."

He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table.

A series of photographs appeared on the screen.

Construction sites. Workers. Blueprints. Invoices.

Several documents bearing the Dalton Real Estate logo.

Charlotte stared at them.

"Where did you get these?"

"Does it matter?"

Her lips curved into a faint smile.

"No."

Marco smiled back.

"That’s why I chose you."

Charlotte picked up the phone and examined the photographs.

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"You have access to people in Kristoff’s social circle."

Charlotte’s expression hardened.

"Some of them."

"People who talk."

She understood immediately.

"You’re asking me to plant the story among them."

"Not plant."

Marco corrected her.

"Feed them."

He took the phone from her.

"We give one person a reason to worry. That person tells another. By the time it reaches the media, nobody remembers where the story started."

Charlotte’s gaze remained on the photographs.

"And what story do you want them to believe?"

Marco leaned against the table.

"That Dalton Real Estate has been cutting corners."

Charlotte’s eyes widened slightly.

"That’s dangerous."

"Exactly."

He tapped one of the photographs.

"Construction delays. Questionable subcontractors. Safety violations. Cost overruns."

He tapped another.

"Then we connect them."

"Connect them how?"

"By making people believe they’re not isolated incidents."

Charlotte slowly nodded.

One accident could be dismissed. Two accidents could be unfortunate.

But a pattern? A pattern could destroy confidence.

"And the investors?" she asked.