The hours slipped by quietly, but Grace Wu's thoughts remained tethered to the conversation with Lilly that morning.
"I'm in control."
Lilly's confidence wasn't misplaced—but Victor Zhou wasn't the type to be controlled.
Grace had seen this play out before, though in the last timeline, Lilly hadn't let Victor get this close until Rocky was already crumbling.
Now, Victor wasn't circling—he was stepping directly into Lilly's life.
Grace watched the clock tick past six, the office dimming as employees filtered out one by one. Emily had already packed up for the day, leaving Grace alone to finish up the last of her reports.
She glanced at Lilly's door, still closed.
Her dinner with Victor was in two hours.
Grace's eyes narrowed. She didn't like how this was unfolding.
Victor was patient—but patience was often mistaken for passivity.
And Grace had no intention of letting him operate unchecked.
By the time Grace stepped out of Li Holdings, the streets were cloaked in the soft glow of Macau's city lights. She walked briskly, weaving through the crowd, her heels striking a steady rhythm against the pavement.
She wasn't heading home.
Instead, she turned onto the street where the restaurant sat—the one Victor always favored.
It was subtle, tucked between high-end shops with no signage. Private. Exclusive.
Victor liked control. Even his dinner spots reflected that.
Grace spotted Lilly's sleek black car parked nearby, but she kept her distance. She wasn't here to interrupt.
She was here to observe.
Leaning against a lamppost across the street, Grace kept her gaze sharp, scanning each person who entered.
She didn't have to wait long.
Victor Zhou arrived precisely five minutes early—not late, not rushed.
His dark suit was immaculate, his movements calculated as he stepped out of his car and adjusted his cufflinks with practiced ease.
Grace watched as he glanced around briefly, his eyes flickering over his surroundings. For a moment, she thought he might have noticed her, but Victor didn't linger.
Instead, he strode into the restaurant without hesitation.
Classic Victor. Always aware but never reactive.
Grace remained still, her gaze lingering on the entrance.
A part of her wanted to step inside—to sit at the bar and pretend this was just another coincidence. But she resisted the impulse.
Tonight wasn't about confrontation.
It was about reminding herself who Victor was.
As the evening deepened, Grace leaned against the cold metal of the lamppost, the cool air brushing against her skin.
Victor and Lilly were inside, and no doubt, the conversation was as sharp as the knives laid out at their table.
But Grace wasn't worried about Lilly folding.
She was worried about what came next.
Victor's influence wasn't loud or obvious. It crept in through cracks people didn't know they had.
And tonight was just another step in that dance.
An hour passed before Victor emerged, his expression unreadable as he adjusted his watch.
Lilly followed a few minutes later, her head tilted slightly as she listened to something he said at the curb.
Grace couldn't hear them, but she didn't need to.
It wasn't what they said—it was how they moved.
Victor stood close, but not too close. His body language was relaxed, but there was always that undercurrent of precision.
Lilly's expression was calm, but her eyes carried that quiet flicker of amusement—the same look she had when she knew she was winning.
They weren't adversaries.
They were circling each other.
Victor opened the car door for Lilly, and she slid inside without breaking stride.
Grace's gaze lingered as Victor's car pulled away, disappearing into the city.
There it was.
The game was already in motion, even if neither of them wanted to admit it.
Grace exhaled softly, pushing off the lamppost as she turned to leave.
She wasn't sure who would win between Lilly and Victor.
But one thing was certain—she would be watching every move.