Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 737: In Her Trap

His fingers clamped onto the desk's edge as the ground beneath him seemed to sway.

Vespera Ashborn had committed crimes.

The marks on Natasha’s arm had been faked. The cameras in that apartment were installed without permission or legal authority. Those acts constituted real crimes—prosecutable violations that could ruin careers and shatter reputations if the perpetrator was exposed.

She had concluded that his downfall justified it all: the falsification, the plot, the danger. And that choice dated back years, since the cameras weren't set up just last week. The videos captured various nights from multiple views, with dates stretching over months. She had been compiling evidence even before the affair started, holding back and stacking more onto it.

Amendments to the contracts traced back four years. The spying went back at least three. While standing by his side at charity events, going over quarterly reports opposite him, and resting in a room nearby, she had been undermining his domain.

This accounted for the extended strategy. But it failed to clarify the previous seven days.

"Where the hell has she been?!" Magnus bellowed, his anxiety surging to heights unknown in all his years.

The door swung open.

A young junior staffer, pale-faced, extended a phone at arm's length, as though eager to keep it distant from herself.

"Sir, Aegis Defense is on the line. They want to speak with you personally."

Magnus accepted the phone.

"Guild Leader Morvane, thanks for your time. I'll be concise." The voice sounded refined yet apologetic. "Due to latest events, our leaders are reassessing some alliance positions. Confidence in New Dawn has plummeted sharply in recent hours, and we believe a managed shift away serves both sides best toward—"

"Hold it right there," Magnus snarled. "Aegis Defense partnered with New Dawn for eight years. Your deal lasts until next quarter's end. You can't bail just because of one rough news day—"

"Guild Leader Morvane." The refinement faded. The speaker sounded weary and straightforward. "New Dawn had our support thanks to Vespera Ashborn. Her reliability, her standing, her knack for results. That's what our board relied on. That's what investors sought."

A pause hung in the air.

"She's out. No point in us remaining."

"I won't forget this!"

Magnus terminated the call. He placed the phone down.

The junior staffer hovered at the door. She remained there.

"Vanguard Athletics waits on line two," she announced. "Kingsley Group wants a return call."

"Patch me to Vanguard."

She passed him another phone—a desk line, its receiver still warm from the cradle.

"Guild Leader Morvane, evening." This voice was slicker, rehearsed. "We'll be upfront. Our board's long considered broadening guild ties, and today's happenings sped that up."

"Broaden," Magnus echoed.

"Purely business, no grudge. Legal's already checked our sponsorship escape clauses, sure a smooth handover works for everyone."

Magnus gripped the receiver harder. They'd looped in lawyers already. Prior to this talk. Even before the broadcast wrapped, attorneys had vetted exit paths—meaning those paths were prepped ahead.

"Which executive started this idiocy?" Magnus demanded. "Put them on."

The line went quiet.

"Full leadership approved this step proactively, Guild Leader. Best wishes to New Dawn ahead."

The connection dropped. A secondary sports backer, focused on artifacts letting wealthy civilians taste superhuman thrills... had disconnected on New Dawn's Guild Leader.

The staffer's tablet pinged once more. Then repeated. She looked down.

"Sir, emails are incoming too. Official letters from... multiple groups." She scrolled through. "Alliance audits. Deal queries. Two prepped terminations."

"Connect Kingsley."

She placed the call. It dragged this round. Magnus held the receiver to his ear, hearing four rings before an answer.

"Morvane." Bare name, toneless, from the fellow who'd shared summit tables with Magnus for six years. "Ashborn-free New Dawn won't meet our alliance standards. Tonight's leadership issues exceed PR damage. Your kids openly charging you with a hit on your eldest, Association hovering—we can't link our brand. Investors refuse, and so do I."

"Just one show," Magnus countered, voice rising against his will. "One evening. A hit job from—"

"Spare me. Crafted by the fixer behind half your guild's ties." Dry tone. "Maybe that's the issue exactly. Vespera Ashborn against you? Every deal she sealed's tainted. Every deal she saw's scrutinized. You get the risk to us."

Magnus's mouth parted. No smart reply emerged.

"Official word by dawn. Regret it reaching this."

The line cut.

Magnus replaced the receiver.

He had claimed victory in the divorce—securing all assets, branches, accounts, the guild. He'd seen his wife cede an empire, labeling her feeble.

Pre-stream, Magnus thought he'd claimed it all.

Post-resignations, he grasped she'd handed him structures while holding key personnel.

Now those structures were draining.

Post-mountain event, seven silent days. Guild dismissed it—Vespera's pattern. She vanished occasionally. Aloof, solitude-bound. Silence triggered standard protocol: ignore her. She'd return on terms.

Yet now evident: those days involved chats with backers, branch heads, partners. A week where her mere name drew crowds, facing influencers, whispering cues for mass exodus on her mark.

Mark given, exodus underway.

Feed showed Natasha's talk wrapping. Tears wiped. Viewers digested marks, clips, three-year deceptions.

Alice addressed her, tone shockingly soft.

"Miss Natasha, thanks for your courage in sharing. A close friend endured abuse from a vile beast too... I know how tough that was."

Sudden shift from softness.

"And 'you'? Watching this..." Alice faced the lens, smile unfit for any teen. "Hope your day's going splendidly."

Magnus balled his fist.

Natasha's link severed. Stream returned to trio: Kaiden, Vespera, Alice.

Kaiden breathed out, tension clear.

"Well, that wasn't planned..."

— VesperaFearless: She stayed silent through the affair drop.

— 44xStorm: Picture straying on HER!!

— [MOD] Kaiden’s Wife: Kai... break if needed. You've opened up tons tonight. Here when ready.

Magnus eyed the stream. Chats smeared into haze.

Then zeroed on Vespera.

Smile lingered. That subtle lip arc, unseen by him in twenty-three years. He'd bestowed the Ashborn legacy. Five offspring. Continental realm. Beside her at countless events, presenting her as spouse, convinced of ultimate trophy.

Never a smile from her.

'Wonderful' from Kaiden, eyes shut, melting against him like sun-warmed feline.

Instant's flash, too swift to admit, Magnus fixated on son's image, ground lurching. His 22-year-old. 'Defective' label. Dismissed, trashed, targeted. That youth drew from Vespera with one term what Magnus chased eternally.

Love defined her. Vespera, two-plus decades a stunning, chilling void beside him, cherished their son. Cherished enough shadows fled his embrace.

Magnus stomped it down, as with all dwarfing him.

"Vespera!!!" he roared. Fist slammed desk; rage boiling further, Harlan framed in door. Coordinator paler, sweat-slicked temples, tablet hugged defensively.

"Sir." Voice flat. "Subsidiary alerts incoming."

"What alerts?!" Magnus howled.

"Harris, Park & Associates. Senior partners dissolved service pact two minutes back."

Magnus gaped.

"Pinnacle Productions. Execs jointly quit now. Studios leased, not owned—lease under exec names."

"That's—"

"Ashborn Financial Services. Twelve top accountants resigned."

Harlan's gaze flicked tablet, Magnus, back.

"Sir, subsidiaries structurally hold. New Dawn owns. But operators departing."

Understanding dawned sans more proof. Truth sharpened at last.