Reborn: The Duke's Obsession-Chapter 53 - Fifty Three

Eric stared at the letter on his desk, at the familiar, elegant handwriting of his brother, and the imposing wax seal of his family. With a steady hand, he broke the seal and unfolded the thick, cream-colored parchment. The words were formal, cold, and devastating.

It was a letter of termination. A formal dissolution of the alliance between his own burgeoning dye industry and his family’s powerful textile establishment. It was a project they had worked on for over a year, a partnership that Eric had seen as a bridge, a way to connect his new world with his old one. Philip had agreed to it, had even praised the initial results. But now, with a single stroke of a pen, he was tearing it all down.

"You are responsible for this termination, dear brother," Eric said, his voice a low, dangerous murmur as he read the letter out loud to the empty room. "’Since the finalization of your engagement to Lady Delia Ellington, there has been talk of the Ellington textile business and the Carson textile business forming a new, three-way alliance. But the Ellington establishment is not doing well. So many rumors surround their financial state. There are talks among our investors that such a union will ruin our establishment’s reputation. That is the main reason I have returned to take a more active role in the business. Don’t worry, I will inform Grandma about this termination myself. I don’t want her thinking there is some sort of internal conflict between us. Sincerely, Duke Philip.’"

Eric dropped the letter on his desk as if it burnt his skin. He knew this had nothing to do with the Ellington’s reputation and everything to do with a bitter, long-standing rivalry between brothers. This was a direct attack, and Philip was using Delia as his weapon.

He called for someone to fetch him Aiden. Minutes later, his aide appeared, his expression already grave. He had clearly heard the news through the company grapevine.

"Have a seat, Aiden," Eric gestured to the chair opposite his desk. Aiden sat, his posture straight and formal. Eric sat as well, the letter lying between them like the spoils of war.

"You already have an idea of what that letter contained, right?" Eric asked, his voice flat.

"Yes, Your Grace," Aiden replied, his own voice tight with frustration. "I believe this was decided at the last minute. It makes no sense from a business perspective. This is a big project, even for the Carson textile company. A million-gold-coin partnership is rare. Why would they just back off now, when we are so close to the final phase? We have been working on this for a year now, laying the groundwork, securing the contracts. I just don’t understand the logic."

"The logic is spite, Aiden," Eric said wearily. "Is there a solution? A way we can proceed so that we don’t incur a catastrophic loss?"

Aiden shook his head slowly. "I think it will be challenging, Your Grace. The entire project was built on the foundation of their fabric supply. Finding a new supplier of that quality and quantity will take months, maybe years. The contracts we signed with vendors will have to be broken, incurring heavy penalties." He looked at Eric, his expression serious. "I believe this is a warning. I think Duke Philip is making it very clear that he does not want the Carsonfamily to be associated with the Ellington family in any way."

Eric sighed and relaxed back in his seat, the fight momentarily draining out of him. He rubbed his temples, a headache beginning to form. "So, my upcoming wedding is the problem," he said, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"This is a fight between me and Philip. Why is he involving Delia and her family in this? I will not stand by and let that happen, not when Delia is involved."

He suddenly shot up from his seat, his weariness replaced by a cold, hard resolve. He picked up his coat and gloves from the stand by the door and left the study without another word.

"Your Grace!" Aiden called out, rising to his feet. "Your Grace, where are you going?" But Eric was already gone.

~ ••••• ~

The advisory council room of the Carson Textile Establishment was a place of old power. The walls were paneled with dark, old wood, and a long, heavy table dominated the space. Portraits of past Carson dukes stared down from the walls, their expressions stern and judgmental.

At the head of this table sat Duke Philip, his hands resting on the silver head of his cane. He was tapping it on the floor with a soft, rhythmic thud, a sound that grated on the nerves of the assembled council members.

"Your Grace," one of the older advisors began, his voice respectful but firm. "With all due respect, why did you suddenly change the supplier of the dyes we use? I don’t believe we will be able to find a better supplier. Your brother’s company provides a quality that is unmatched in the entire kingdom."

Philip stopped the tapping of his cane and spoke, his voice smooth and dismissive. "There was an issue with the quality control at our former dye company. A small but significant inconsistency."

Another advisor, a man in charge of finances, chimed in, clearly unconvinced. "What about the immediate increment of production and dyeing costs this will cause? Sourcing new dyes of even lesser quality will be more expensive and will delay our entire spring line. It doesn’t make sense financially. The public will not be happy with the inevitable price increases on our fabrics."

"We will make it make sense," Philip continued, his tone suggesting the matter was closed.

The second advisor shook his head, looking down at his papers. Murmurs began to fly around the long table.

"This is madness..."

"He’s going to ruin the spring collection."

"His Grace, Duke Julian, would never have made such a rash decision."

"And how, precisely, do you intend to do that?" The voice, clear and challenging, echoed from the doorway, cutting through the murmurs and silencing the entire room. Every head turned. Eric stood there, his coat unbuttoned, his expression a mask of fury. He had stepped directly into the lion’s den.

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