The Heart System Chapter 526

Truth be told, we were truly in a pitiful state. None of it lay within our grasp, however. Chase proved to be an utter madman, while Nala chose to offer herself up to safeguard her enterprise.

Somehow, I found myself right at the heart of the chaos.

"Hey," she said. "I actually discovered one of those pregnancy test kits in my mother’s bedroom during cleanup."

"O-oh..." My voice trembled slightly. "Wow. So... she’s pregnant?"

"I confronted her," Ivy responded. "She claimed she had no clue how they ended up there. I said I wasn’t buying it. You don’t use a test without cause."

"Did she actually use it?"

"Yeah. And nope, she’s not pregnant." Ivy shrugged lightly. "She insists she doesn’t know their origin. Figures it was a prank."

Fucking Mana. No chance I could clue Ivy in on that. I’d drop it for the moment and handle Mana down the line, assuming she resurfaced. Too many queries burned in my mind for her.

"Perhaps a coworker pulled a stunt on her," I grumbled, sipping my matcha.

"She hasn’t hosted anyone since moving in with me... aside from you." Ivy cocked her head with a subtle grin. "Could you be the guilty one?"

"Yeah, guilty as charged. Sharp sleuthing."

"Obviously."

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out to find a text from Carrie: ’hey can we meet?’

I gazed at it briefly, pondering my reply. Seeing her would prove uncomfortable, yet I craved details on Jack Kuinn. She could prove valuable.

I lingered on the screen, mulling the choice. A mere "yes" ought to have been simple, yet it felt wrong.

"Jeez, what’s got you glued?" Ivy leaned in, attempting a glimpse.

I flashed a quick thumbs-up and pocketed the phone. "Mind your own, Mrs. Komb."

"Oh, come on." She settled back. "Was it Nala?"

"No, and let’s skip Nala talk for now." I dismissed it. "Actually, I deserve an apology."

She blinked. "For what?"

"For Chase. For ignoring me and siding with that creep over your pal."

"I already said sorry, Evan. Don’t rehash it."

"Make it sincere."

I triggered Crushing Presence, mainly from intrigue. The apology mattered little; I yearned to test the skill’s mechanics.

A numeral hovered over her: Four. Then five ghostly dice materialized in my sight. Ah... I’d invested five points in it, granting five rolls? Cool.

The first tumbled to one. A tiny X marked it. The second hit five. A green check blazed with SUCCESS.

Intriguing.

Ivy exhaled. "Fine. I’m sorry. Again."

"Nice. Thanks."

"Fuck you."

"Promise?"

"Shut up." She shook her head, a smile flickering. "God... what a week. I just crave sleep until this nightmare ends."

"Same here."

"I don’t know." She rubbed her arm softly. "I feel utterly spent. Truthfully, I wish for someone like you—in a romantic sense."

"Sorry, Ivy Komb. I’m taken..." I halted. "Wait, not anymore."

"You just fumbled the greatest chance ever, Marlowe." She jabbed a finger at me. "A CEO escaped your grasp. You’re a fool. I-d-i-o-t."

"Ouch."

She checked her watch. "I gotta head out. Told Mom we’d shop, despite our ongoing tension."

"So things are improving between you?"

"I... not sure."

"Well, progress at least."

She rose. "Catch you later, unemployed fool."

"Hilarious."

I eyed her stretch momentarily. As she brushed past, she nudged my shoulder with a teasing smirk and exited.

"Damn," I muttered. "What a day... what a goddamn day."

⟁ ⟁ ⟁

Carrie damn Beldenwary. The beloved public figure—the very woman I’d humiliated and ravaged beneath her adopted son’s watchful eye. Facing her now, like casual elites sipping fine wine, struck as bizarre. In a venue oozing extravagance from its gleaming marble floors? That promised intrigue.

I showed up ahead of time, aiming to adjust to the place’s lavish splendor. Perched atop a towering glass-and-steel monolith, the eatery boasted sweeping city vistas where streetlights resembled fading coals below. A string quartet performed softly in one corner, their melancholic strains just piercing the refined tinkle of glass and cutlery. Diners embodied urban power—gentlemen in bespoke suits, ladies adorned with gems rivaling my old flat’s price.

"Alright... what’s the worst that can go down?" I whispered to myself.

The elevator pinged, and a uniformed servant, dedicated to ushering the superrich, bowed while holding the door.

There she stood. Carrie Beldenwary. Man... this encounter would be awkward.

Well... Carrie Beldenwary. The schemer who aimed to snatch Kim for her precious boy. And here I was, about to request her aid. Fantastic.

She appeared as breathtaking as always, her short brown locks in a sleek, precise bob. Her figure was lush and curvaceous, moving with cool elegance. A backless emerald silk cocktail dress hugged her form intimately, its hem daringly short. Oversized dark shades concealed her gaze, enhancing her star allure.

All eyes swiveled immediately. Servers stumbled mid-stride, and elite guests halted chats for furtive looks. Carrie gave a curt, majestic nod to a rigid-uniformed man—probably the proprietor—before fixing on me. I offered a deliberate nod; she replied with a head tilt.