Marrying My Father's Enemy-Chapter 125: Silent Moves

Chapter 125: Silent Moves

Two weeks had passed since the divorce papers were signed, and in those two weeks, Eira had disappeared from the public eye.

No one saw her at university, at her usual coffee shop, or anywhere familiar.

The tabloids speculated wildly about her whereabouts, but Eira couldn’t care less.

She was busy building her future.

Her tiny one-bedroom apartment had become her makeshift office.

Papers covered the small dining table, next to her laptop and phone, which rarely stopped ringing.

Eira sat at the table, tapping with her pen rhythmically against a notebook filled with scribbled plans and calculations.

She flipped open her laptop, scanning the names of investors she had contacted.

Most of them were once tied to Henry Blackwood’s empire—until they left during his company’s recent decline.

"Hello, Mr. Ashford," Eira said into her phone, her voice steady and professional.

"I’m reaching out because I have a business proposal I believe you’ll find interesting."

The man on the other end hesitated. "Mrs. Reed—"

"Just Eira," she corrected, cutting him off. "And I understand your hesitancy, but my proposal is solid. I’ve done the math, and I know your portfolio is suffering after your split from my father’s company. I can help you turn that around."

There was a pause. "I’ll think about it," he said, his tone cautious but intrigued.

"Please do," Eira replied firmly. "I’ll send over the details by tonight. You won’t regret it."

When the call ended, she leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly.

She knew she was taking risks, but she couldn’t afford to play it safe.

Not anymore.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time it was a notification from a news app.

She opened it, her eyes rolled as she read the headline:

"Henry Blackwood and Beatrice Blackwood to Divorce After Decades of Marriage."

Eira smirked faintly.

"Well, that didn’t take long," she muttered to herself.

She scrolled through the article, catching details of their impending court battle and the media frenzy surrounding it.

Her satisfaction grew as she reached for another document on the table.

It was a copy of a sealed envelope she had sent anonymously to a journalist just days ago.

Inside the envelope had been the truth: Vanesa Blackwood was not Henry’s daughter.

She was Steven Blackwood’s child, the product of an affair Beatrice had hidden for years.

The revelation had already caused ripples in the Blackwood name, and Eira could only imagine the mess it would bring when it hit the headlines.

Her phone buzzed again—this time, it was a text from her bank.

-Your loan has been approved.-

A grin spread across her face.

With the loan secured and the interest from Henry’s former investors, her business plans were finally taking shape.

Late that evening, Eira sat by the window, staring out at the dimly lit street below.

She had been working nonstop for two weeks, surviving on caffeine and determination.

Sana entered the room, hesitantly holding two mugs of tea.

"I thought you could use this," she said quietly.

Eira glanced up. "Thanks," she said, taking the mug.

Sana sat across from her, fidgeting nervously.

"I saw the news," she said nervously. "About your father."

Eira took a sip of tea, her gaze steady. "And?"

Sana hesitated. "Did you... have anything to do with it?"

Eira’s lips twitched. "Why would you think that?"

Sana shrugged, her fingers tightening around her mug.

"Because you’re... you. And because it’s true, isn’t it? That Vanesa isn’t Henry’s daughter?"

Eira leaned forward, setting her mug down.

"Does it matter, really? Henry treated her like his own until she betrayed him. Blood doesn’t make a family. Choices do."

Sana flinched but said nothing.

She stared at her tea, lost in thought. She was happy to see Eira more confident than she was before.

After a long silence, she asked, "What’s next for you?"

"I’m building something," Eira said simply. "Something that can’t be taken away from me. Something for me and my baby."

Sana nodded slowly. "If you need help..."

"I’ll let you know," Eira said curtly, effectively ending the conversation.

As the clock struck midnight, Eira sent one final email before shutting her laptop.

She stood, stretching her stiff muscles, and walked over to the window.

The city lights twinkled in the distance, showing the world she was ready to conquer.

The road ahead was long and uncertain, but for the first time in her life, Eira felt truly in control.

"Let them play their games," she murmured to herself, her voice filled with quiet resolve. "I’ll make my own rules."

She went back to her laptop, and one more time, she scanned the folder of documents Vanesa had given her weeks ago.

The dim light of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the pages—evidence of Henry’s extensive tax evasion, offshore accounts, and falsified financial records.

She paused, her pen hovered over a notepad where she had been jotting down key points.

These weren’t just minor slip-ups.

These were crimes that could destroy Henry’s empire and send shockwaves through the corporate world.

Eira knew she had to act carefully with this one. "Patience..."

She had already exposed the truth about Vanesa’s parentage, and the fallout from that was just beginning.

This next move, however, would be even more devastating.

Opening her email, she typed out a new message to the same journalist who had broken the Vanesa story.

//Subject: More Evidence on Henry Blackwood\\

~Message:~

-I trust you’ll know what to do with this. Attached are records detailing tax fraud, illegal transactions, and hidden accounts connected to Henry Blackwood. These documents have been verified. Handle them with discretion—but don’t hold back.-

Eira attached the scanned files, double-checked the email for any errors, and hit send.

A small satisfaction washed over her as the message disappeared into the digital void.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the now-empty screen.

Everything she had done settled on her shoulders, but she didn’t regret it.

"This is for everyone you’ve hurt, Henry," she whispered to herself.

With a final glance at the folder, she closed it and tucked it away.

The storm was just beginning, and Henry had no idea what was going to happen.

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