Reaching out to brush the dangling lock of hair behind her ear, he quietly said, “You look so beautiful today.”
Abigail smiled in earnest then–any woman would be flattered by their man.
Central Tower–the venue of the wedding–was grand and lively. The Slates and the Lindts carried influence in Cloud City, and a strategic marriage between their children naturally drew equally important people.
Four staff members were standing at the register placed outside the front entrance, dressed in the same. uniform as they welcomed every guest.
Since Diarmuid and Zachary were close, a wedding gift was unquestionably compulsory.
Abigail had brought something as well, but decided against it since Diarmuid brought his. However, she was not being petty, but since she was here with Diarmuid, giving two separate gifts would make it look like they had separated.
The interior of the wedding hall was decorated with dreamy romance, and naturally grand–it made obvious that both families regarded the wedding with great importance.
As Diarmuid led Abigail to take a seat at a quiet corner, her phone rang, and she took it out to see that it was a text from Ricky.
[Has the wedding begun?]
Abigail was a little worried, remembering that he would be bringing Lulu. [Has Lulu arrived?]
[Yeah.]
Abigail sighed.
[Not yet.]
[Okay. I’ll bring her in when it starts.]
[You can’t come in without an invitation.]
[We slipped in already, actually.]
Abigail looked around her right then–they were hiding here already?!
There were too many people in the wedding hall for Abigail to track down Ricky.
“Mr. Althoff.” Someone approached Diarmuid Althoff when he noticed Diarmuid just then–Diarmuid did not want to socialize, which was why he had brought Abigail to a quiet corner in the wedding hall.
“I heard that you left Light Group, so Diarmuid would suffice now, I believe? Honestly, Light Group is now a real mess, and after rumors swirled that lan Althoff owes a mountain of debts, he was not heard from since… but I’m sure you know if it’s true, don’t you?”
Everyone used to revere and feared Diarmuid in the business, because he was as swift as he was decisive and merciless.
However, now that he left Light Group, there were those who believed that he was nothing–just like Mr. Little here who would address him by his first name.
Moreover, after lan made such a serious blunder, the Althoffs were no longer the dynasty from before and were far from untouchable.
Diarmuid looked up coolly at Mr. Little right then and spoke with cool disdain. “Ask him yourself if you’re that interested.”
“You’re his cousin, aren’t you? That’s why-”
“Mr. Althoff.” A man in a well–tailored suit joined them just then.
Mr. Little looked up. When he saw that it was Mr. King, director Skyrock Productions, he promptly smiled.” Oh, if it isn’t the man of the hour! Surely the internet celebrities under your label are making you filthy rich, Mr. King?”
Mr. King chuckled. “More or less.”
“Now, now, there’s no need to be so humble. Everyone knows that Skyrock is the pioneer when it comes to internet culture. With things advancing so much on that front, none of us could take a bite out of your cake, let alone compete with you.” Mr. Little spoke with a note of irony.
After all, he was involved in the business of tangible goods, and with the economy deteriorating by the year, businesses like his had to rely on internet celebrities to promote their products.
To make things worse, they would barely get a cut of the revenue, while the internet celebrities would make off with the majority.
Mr. Little was certainly eager to negotiate a deal where the top–billed internet celebrities working under Skyrock’s label promote his products, while retaining a sizable chunk of the revenue. “Would you be free tonight to discuss the prospect of a partnership?”
“Sorry, but I’m busy.” Mr. King promptly refused, while walking up to Diarmuid and asking, “Will you be coming. to the office, Mr. Althoff? There’s something I would like to discuss.”
Diarmuid’s style had always been to never doubt his own, and to distance himself from those he doubted.
“It’s your call,” he simply said.
“Very well, sir,” Mr. King replied and sat down beside him.
Mr. Little was actually confused why Mr. King would show such deference to Diarmuid. After all, Mr. King undoubtedly eclipsed Diarmuid in position and reputation. Why would he ask Diarmuid… for permission?
“Mr. King, are you partners with Diarmuid?” he asked.
Mr. King gave him a look. “Nope.”
“Then, what…?”
“Mr. Althoff owns Skyrock. Of course I would have to ask him when it comes to important decisions,” Mr. King smiled.
Mr. Little’s smug expression stiffened in turn–Diarmuid owned Skyrock?
He still owned businesses after leaving Light Group?!
“Ah, Diarmuid.” An elderly man approached as well. He used to top rich lists, and still carried authority despite being far past his prime, and everyone always showed their respects everywhere he went.
Naturally, he addressed Diarmuid by his first name because they were equals despite Diarmuid being younger, and not out of rudeness.
“I heard that you’ve founded a company issuing venture capital. It wouldn’t be successful without abundant riches, and that makes you the most accomplished amongst the young ‘uns.”
Diarmuid actually rose from his seat in respect, pouring the elderly gentleman a drink and sharing a toast with him. “You flatter me, Mr. Townsend–but your accomplishment still stands tall.”
Old Mr. Townsend shook his head and waved him off. “Nah, I can barely stand as it is. The world is now at the feet of you youngsters, while old people like us must make way.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Little was left dumbfounded.
Mr. Townsend was quite the character himself, but he was flattering Diarmuid to no end?
Did he miss something?
He asked gingerly, “Mr. Townsend, didn’t Diarmuid–I mean, didn’t Mr. Althoff leave Light Group?” So how did Diarmuid manage to build an investment company and take ownership of Skyrock?!
Mr. Townsend shot Mr. Little a look. “Diarmuid may have left Light Group, but he hasn’t left commerce. What, are you interested in a partnership with him?”
Mr. Little was left wanting to hide himself even as blushed, his cheeks scarlet as if he had too much to drink. “I would love to, but I don’t think Mr. Althoff would need one.”
Mr. Townsend was naturally experienced enough to tell what was going on. His shrewd eyes darted between Mr. Little and Diarmuid, and he grinned broadly as he surmised what happened just then. “Well, Diarmuid is involved in too many megaprojects to pick up small businesses.”
Then, turning back to Diarmuid, he asked, “By the way, what is this I heard about you acquiring Silverpond?” Mr. Little was left thunderstruck right then.
Silverpond? That bank had been in business for over a century!
“You have sharp ears, Mr. Townsend,” Diarmuid said as he clinked glasses with him again.
“Honestly, the way your empire has expanded…” Mr. Townsend sighed in awe, and flashed a thumb up at Diarmuid.
Meanwhile, the bride’s parents had made their grand entrance into the wedding hall. They were among the most important figures present for the day, and there were naturally many guests who approached them in greeting and brief exchanges.
Diarmuid did not want to get involved, but they would go to him even if he did not go to them, meaning that socializing was inevitable.
On the other hand, Abigail was worried that Ricky would cause a scene, so she told Diarmuid quietly, “Ricky is here. I think he’s up to something, so I’ll go look for him.”
“Okay,” Diarmuid said, leaning in to whisper into her ear. “You watch out too.”
He was very close, and his warm breath was sprinkled over her neck, causing her heart to skip a beat.
For a split second, she felt warmth–even if Yvaine’s death had set them apart, he still cared about her.
“Okay,” she said meekly.
Mr. Townsend glanced at Abigail just then, but did not say a word–which bigwig these days did not have a lover?
In fact, Mr. Townsend himself had four mistresses when he was young, along with dozens of girlfriends.
As such, he would avoid asking any question or make the acquaintance of another man’s companion as long as the lady was not their legally married wife.
Abigail was naturally unaware that she was less than a mistress in the eyes of others, and left the lively wedding hall to head backstage.
Whipping out her phone, she texted Ricky again.
[Where are you? Let’s meet.]
This time, there was no reply.
She was about to cail him when she spotted Zachary. Although he certainly looked the part in his tailcoat, there was no happiness one would expect to find from a bridegroom–in fact, he was sulking.
“Abigail,” he called out, walking up to her when he saw her. “What are you doing here?”
Abigail thought about it, and told him, “I’m looking for Ricky.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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