Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 986: Fuming and Vengeful Woman

The wine glass crashed against the wall with a crack resembling a gunshot.

Upon striking, the Cabernet burst apart—crimson liquid erupting over the spotless white wall in a fierce spray, fanning out in irregular lines that resembled a mix of modern painting and blood spatter.

Shards of the glass broke apart moments after, snagging light as they flew apart—sparkling pieces twirling in the air prior to clattering onto the marble floor in a shower of sharp, fractured notes.

The stem rebounded once, tumbled, then halted beside the baseboard.

One lone droplet of wine trailed down the wall in a sluggish, meandering stream, carving a route amid the splatter like a single tear.

Aurelia’s hand remained outstretched. Fingers splayed. Shaking.

Her gaze locked suddenly on the impact spot—and her pulse froze.

Eros’s

A canvas worth six million dollars, layered with oil and unyielding, stunning allure, dangled precisely fourteen inches rightward from the wine stain.

Her ultimate masterpiece.

The most remarkable artwork in her possession—beyond its bare form, beyond the superficial controversy others imposed, it soared to divine heights. The sort that left you speechless before it, erasing your identity and reshaping your core with each glance.

Six million dollars.

Fourteen inches away from a Cabernet disaster.

She approached nearer. Inspected the frame. The canvas. The borders.

No drop had landed on it.

It meant too much to her life, far beyond mere desire, so precious that even one spot of ruin was unacceptable.

Her breath escaped in a prolonged, quivering rush—the sort released only after dodging the loss of an invaluable treasure because rage launched a solo rebellion against the laws of nature.

Turning from the wall, her heels struck the marble sharply, she hit the intercom button without a glance.

"Get someone to clean this mess. Immediately."

Next, she drew her phone from the silk robe’s pocket and dialed both assistants.

Something urgent demanded her attention.

That painting had cost her six million.

Absolutely worth it. Every penny. Beautiful yet savage, it tapped into raw instincts—the mightiest creation she’d encountered, too grand for any gallery to contain.

Triple.

No matter the price to claim it.

Art alone wasn’t the reason for the purchase.

Dual motives.

To snag moments with Eros, that was her follow-up strategy once obtained.

Six million unlocked it.

In Aurelia’s realm, cash accessed every space, opened every dialogue, secured every connection. Power functioned that way.

She operated that way.

Failure had never touched her. Never. Not through years dominating a hierarchy where top hunters donned designer wear and waged legal battles over fangs.

A private meeting with a current national leader had once come from six million.

Two million unlocked a drug patent that tripled her investments. She’d acquired a disliked Giacometti sculpture solely because the seller’s spouse held a board seat she coveted.

Money served as the perfect key. Money dissolved all obstacles standing between Aurelia and her desires like a universal agent.

And yet...

The nerve of that bastard to flee from her.

Not a polite departure or graceful apology. No promise of later with the hollow allure handsome men use to slip away unscathed.

No. He bolted. With another woman. Scooping her up, he dashed through the gallery’s rear exit, vanished into darkness via Lamborghini, abandoning her like an idiot.

As if her six million meant spare cash. As if she meant spare cash. As if Aurelia—the one who reduced powerful men to tears in meetings, felled executives with one call, once cursed a U.S. senator on TV and saw her polls rise—

And to top it off—Charlotte was present.

Charlotte, who peeled off her mask in slow, dramatic fashion, stared straight at Aurelia, and flashed that

smirk Charlotte had honed through years as the exact rival Aurelia yearned to crush.

Charlotte.

The useless heiress she’d humiliated globally on TV. The one labeled a lucky inheritance mishap unfit for her tech empire.

That Charlotte—

That fury endured through the night. The drive back. The shower.

The scant three hours of restless sleep before dawn surrender. It blazed on—fierce and constricted in her chest like an unexpellable ember.

Yet harming her artwork was unthinkable.

She yearned to shatter all else.

Her younger assistant burst in—the enthusiastic one, tablet hugged like armor—and halted at the sight of wine trickling down the wall and glass debris.

Smartly, she stayed silent.

"I’ve got more, ma’am, as you asked," Lena announced, a bit winded. "On Eros. Nothing personal—I searched solo and found zilch. He vanishes outside last night. But—" She extended the tablet. "Viral videos abound. Tons of them."

Aurelia pivoted gradually.

"They popped up overnight. Comments hitting tens of millions. Across all sites."

Aurelia seized the tablet and started viewing.

As Senithe informed her, Eros favored obscurity. That defined him.

That was his method. Post yesterday’s intel, Aurelia dispatched hints—bits, trails, select snippets from Senithe—to her aides, ordering deeper probes.

Leverage networks.

Yank levers.

Unmask the man.

And their yield was... viral clips?

She viewed them in sequence. Supermarket scene. The footage. Restaurant glimpses. Fan-shot admissions. Each polished to seem natural.

Angles ideal yet unstaged. Every segment crafted to hook you for more, revealing zero substance.

Her thumb halted its swipe.

She replayed one clip. Then thrice. Eyes sharpening—not on the scenes, but the scheme.

Aurelia wasn’t stupid. She’d bested siblings by spotting the unseen—the framework beneath structures, intent behind grins, gambit masked as greeting.

What faced her now wasn’t natural buzz.

It was a drive.

Perfect. Unseen. Fueled by funds where cash was mere guideline, not limit.