Meanwhile…
Drake sat in his office, leaning back in his chair, lazily spinning a pen between his fingers. His eyes lingered on the message he'd sent Hazel —
"See you at the party."
A smug smirk sat on his face.
But that smirk didn't last long.
Ding.
A notification popped up on his laptop screen — from Royal Empires.
His gaze sharpened as he clicked it open.
"This is to inform that all collaboration terms between Royal Empires and Starlight Corporation are hereby terminated. Effective immediately."
His eyes narrowed. The pen stopped spinning.
He grabbed his phone and called out sharply:
Drake: "Kian. What's going on with Royal Empires?"
Kian (on the line): "Sir… I just saw the message too. No prior indication. But I'll get on it right away."
Drake: "I want to know and why. Call whoever you need. Find out."
Kian: "Yes, sir."
Moments later, Kian stood outside Hazel's company line, talking to her assistant.
She hesitated at first, but eventually explained:
"Ms. Hazel Knight personally ordered the termination. She didn't give a reason. Just said she doesn't want any association moving forward. That's all I can say."
Kian returned to Drake's office.
Kian: "Sir… Hazel Knight gave the order herself. No official reason. Her assistant said it was sudden."
Drake didn't say a word.
He simply leaned back in his chair, staring at the email on his screen. The smirk from earlier had completely vanished — replaced by a quiet, simmering intensity.
Kian stepped back silently, leaving Drake alone.
Drake closed the laptop with a soft click, jaw clenched.
His phone buzzed on the desk.
He glanced at it — "Mom".
His jaw tightened. No surprise.
He let it ring out, then declined the call with a heavy sigh.
His mind still reeling from the Royal Empires fallout — all collaborations, deals, partnerships… gone. Shut down with one message.
He sat at the desk, rolling a small glass orb between his fingers, his thoughts storming.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Kian stepped in, careful with his words.
Kian: "Sir… Mrs. Damon is waiting in the guest room."
And he left.
Drake stared at the orb in his hand… then stood.
He straightened his coat, cracked his neck, and strode down the hall.
When he entered the guest room, he found her — perfectly poised, her expression soft… fake.
She stood to greet him with that carefully crafted warmth.
Drake smirked, took a step back, crossed his arms, and looked out the window, slowly shaking his head.
Then his voice dropped — cold and sharp.
Drake: "I know what you really want."
Mrs. Damon blinked, pretending confusion.
Mrs. Damon: "Drake, darling… what are you saying—?"
Drake: "Come on, Mom. Just drop the act. You came here to talk about Hazel, right?"
She hesitated.
Drake: "You've never cared about anyone but your damn money. Not me. Not Ryle. Not our family. You always care about money, money, money. That's all you breathe."
She opened her mouth. Closed it again.
She had nothing to say — because the truth had already cut deep.
Drake stepped closer, his voice rising — his anger boiling beneath his skin.
Drake: "You destroyed everything. You broke us. You broke her. And now that you found out who she really is — Zayden Knight's daughter — suddenly, you show up? You make me sick."
His eyes burned into hers.
Drake: "Yes, money's important. But you — you live for it. I'm ashamed to call you my mother."
She flinched.
He leaned in, deadly calm.
Drake: "I love her. Not for her name. Not for her legacy. Not for what you want. I love her — completely. I will make her mine. Not for you. Because I fucking love her."
And then, without warning —
He hurled the glass orb to the floor. It shattered.
Everyone outside froze. The sound echoed through the halls.
Staff turned, wide-eyed.
Drake didn't stop.
He stormed out — past the shocked faces, out to the parking area.
His fists clenched. His breath sharp.
And his heart set.