Chapter 50
Chapter 50:
In front of Room 809, Helena slowly pushed open the door and spotted Neville sitting inside, alone. Her body tensed immediately. Instead of walking in fully, she stopped just past the doorway.
A tray of sliced fruit and neatly poured drinks rested on the table, untouched.
As soon as Neville noticed her, he straightened up, visibly surprised. “Oh, so Mr. Palmer asked you to help too? I got here first and figured I’d get things ready. Come on, sit for a bit p>
Instead of relaxing, Helena moved cautiously, settling barely onto the edge of the sofa.
With a polite gesture, Neville handed her a glass. “Don’t worry. It’s juice. No alcohol p>
Helena thanked him but didn’t touch it.
Trying to sound sincere, Neville leaned forward slightly, saying, “Listen, about yesterday’s call, it was my fault. But do you really have to treat me like the villain here? It’s a colleagues’ gathering. Everyone’s showing up, and I’d rather not have bad blood hanging in the air.” He lifted the glass of juice and took a deep drink, like he was trying to prove something. “Cheers to that p>
That small gesture made Helena ease her shoulders a little. Maybe it wasn’t a setup after all.
Just then, a server entered quietly and placed another juice—identical to Neville’s— in front of her.
Neville let out a light chuckle. “What do you say? Let’s just move past all that nonsense, yeah? I’ve always admired your work, and I really think we’d make a great team on the news desk p>
“Alright,” Helena said. After a brief hesitation, she picked up the glass. A flicker of satisfaction flashed in Neville’s eyes.
Earlier, he had slipped something into that drink and given the server clear instructions. It looked exactly like the one he had just finished, but once Helena took a sip, the night would tip his way.
His lips curled into a smile, full of quiet triumph.
Right before the glass reached Helena’s mouth, the door swung wide open, halting everything.
𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘁 gⱯ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⫽𝖼𝗈𝗺
Neville looked ready to snap, irritation written all over his face, but froze when he noticed who had walked in. It was Tessa Monroe, an intern from Nexus.
With a wide grin, she said, “Mr. Gray! You’re early p>
Words caught in Neville’s throat. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Before he could collect himself, a steady stream of coworkers poured into the room behind her.
Helena lit up, her smile wide and welcoming. “Perfect timing, everyone. Mr. Palmer’s treating us tonight. Order whatever you like. No need to hold back p>
Frozen in place, Neville struggled to mask his disbelief as more staff from Nexus TV filled the room. Even Dominick showed up.
In a matter of minutes, the room buzzed with conversation, utensils clinking, and drinks flowing.
“Why… is the whole team here?” The fake smile on Neville’s face started to twitch.
Dominick popped a piece of watermelon into his mouth and answered casually, “Didn’t Mr. Palmer invite everyone to a get-together? Helena shared a screenshot with all of us. I even booked a bus to make sure we showed up on time p>
Neville’s heart sank, his forced smile faltering even more.
For years, he and Laurence had run this exact setup—trapping female colleagues under the guise of a company dinner, isolating them, drugging their drinks, then taking them to a hotel room.
Most of the men at the station knew the drill and stayed clear to avoid spoiling the setup.
Dominick, however, had never been part of it.
Today, thanks to Helena, a crowd of clueless interns had shown up expecting an actual gathering, not realizing they’d stepped straight into someone else’s setup.
A quick glance from Helena met Dominick’s, and he gave her a subtle thumbs-up in return.
Everything had gone off without a hitch.
Before clocking out that evening, Helena still had her doubts, even after Betsey tried to reassure her that the event was legitimate. She hadn’t bought it. There was only one person she trusted in the company—Dominick.
He hadn’t held back. Straight to the point, he told her exactly what Neville had planned. He had ignored these kinds of schemes in the past, for too long, really. But this time was different. Neville was going after someone he cared about. That was his line.
Helena had acted quickly. She suggested flipping the script—if Neville was planning a trap, she’d turn it into an actual party, one that everyone attended.
Watching his setup unravel, Neville sat there, seething. His throat dry, he grabbed a glass without thinking and took a deep drink.
Tessa let out a carefree laugh. “You really love that juice, huh, Mr. Gray? Here, have mine too p>
Neville’s hand froze. His eyes widened. That was the drink. The one meant for Helena. Somehow, somewhere in the chaos, the glasses had been switched. He’d grabbed it in a hurry—and now it was gone.
Helena caught his stare, and though her smile stayed light, something fierce flickered just behind it.
A rough cough ripped from Neville’s chest, growing worse with each breath. He’d been outplayed, and badly. The woman he’d tried to corner had known everything all along—and she’d been patiently waiting for her moment to strike.