Chapter 136: Chapter 136: The Pincer Attack

Then, the inevitable result would be a spectacular show of “dog eating dog” within the Harrington hierarchy. A civil war would erupt in the boardroom, and the Sterling family would likely be dragged down into the mud with them. While the giants tore each other apart, snapping and snarling over power and assets, they would have absolutely no time to pay attention to a small, insignificant Julian Sterling recovering in his bed.

They would be too busy bleeding to notice the one who held the knife.

And as for Julian? He would be the fisherman on the shore, reaping the benefits while the snipe and the clam fought to the death. He would sit back, watch the chaos unfold, and enjoy the peace that their distraction provided him.

The thought brought a cold, satisfied smile to Julian’s lips in the darkness. The sensation of controlling the board, of moving the pieces from afar, helped him temporarily forget the physical pain racking his body. It was a different kind of power, one that didn’t require physical strength, only a sharp mind and the patience to wait.

It was during this train of thought that his mind drifted to a specific detail. Earlier, Ethan had casually mentioned a name: Dahlia Thorne.

Of course, Julian hadn’t had the opportunity to meet her yet. Their scheduled meeting had been postponed to the following week due to a multitude of reasons, stemming from both her side and the complications involving Julian and Ethan. But that didn’t matter right now. The mere mention of Dahlia Thorne in the context of their conversation acted as a key, unlocking a specific pathway in his memory regarding the other marginal figures of the Harrington family.

Every great family had its undercurrents, its hidden resentments. Aside from Cedric, who was the shining, undisputed heir apparent, the Harrington clan was populated by others—people with ambition that far exceeded their limited talents, hyenas waiting in the shadows for the lion to stumble.

There were those who constantly looked for an opportunity to overthrow the leader.

For instance, there was the secret boyfriend of Dahlia’s sister. Julian recalled the details from the original story, a man named Jason Harrington. He was a character defined by his cruelty and his greed, a man who had abandoned his pregnant girlfriend without a second thought. He possessed a dark ambition but lacked the true capability to lead, making him a dangerous but ultimately flawed variable.

Or perhaps… there was an even better target. A more foolish pawn, but one with a much larger umbrella of protection.

Julian’s mind settled on the image of Kevin Harrington.

Kevin was the archetype of the “useless son”, a man who clung to power and status solely because of his birthright. He was known for being dim-witted, a man who only knew how to listen to his mother, Evelyn Harrington. Yet, beneath that subservience lay a simmering resentment. Kevin was the type of man who was perpetually angry, always feeling suffocated by his mother’s micromanagement. He was desperate, starving for a chance to prove himself. He wanted to show the world that he was actually talented, that he could stand on his own two feet and escape the humiliating label of being a “mama’s boy”.

He was a powder keg of insecurity waiting for a spark. And Julian, lying there in the dark, realized he might just have the match.

That individual had spent his entire life nursing a festering, poisonous jealousy directed squarely at Cedric Harrington. In his eyes, Cedric was not a business genius or a tactical prodigy. He was merely a man who had been blessed with an exorbitant amount of blind luck. To him, Cedric possessed no true talent that superseded his own. He believed that if the playing field were leveled, he would be the one standing at the summit. He hungered, with a desperation that bordered on starvation, for a legacy project, a monumental success that he could stamp his name on. He needed a chaotic explosion of success that would not only silence his critics but also serve as a hard slap to Cedric’s face, firmly asserting his own position and validity within the ruthless hierarchy of the family.

Thinking of this, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Julian Sterling’s lips in the darkness. It was not a smile of joy, but one laced with cold mockery and calculation.

It was almost serendipitous how the pieces had fallen into place. Just recently, Julian had stumbled upon a method to approach this fool, a man who was currently embroiled in a loud, undignified argument with his own mother at a lavish wine party. Julian had learned of this not through his own presence, but through the eyes and ears of the spies Ethan Caldwell had planted within the social circuit. The report was vivid: the idiot had been screaming, his face flushed with alcohol and indignation, proclaiming to anyone who would listen, and especially to his mother, that he desperately needed an opportunity. He was sick and tired of being looked down upon, exhausted by the dismissive glances of his relatives.

Seizing this moment of vulnerability, Julian had acted quickly. He decided to “draw legs on a snake,” as the saying went, to embellish the truth and create a mirage. He drafted a business plan that, on the surface, sounded incredibly resonant. It was grandiose, filled with buzzwords and ambitious projections that would appeal to someone desperate to make a splash. It was designed to trigger the psychological desire of someone who wanted to play the big game. However, beneath the glossy exterior and the majestic promises, the core of the plan was hollow. It was empty, structurally unsound, and fraught with catastrophic risks.

Once the trap was constructed, he had entrusted it to Lucas Hill, instructing him to find a way to let it “accidentally” slip into the man’s hands in the most natural way possible.

The entirety of this scheme had been meticulously arranged, step by calculated step, long before Julian had been kidnapped by Aaron Sterling.

It had to be said that the reaction of that foolish man exceeded even Julian’s expectations. The speed with which he took the bait was astonishing. He had snatched at the opportunity with a fervor that was almost pathetic, aggressively pushing to advance the project before anyone else could claim it. The man was dying of thirst in a desert of his own inadequacy, and Julian had kindly offered him a cup of salt water. The more he drank, the thirstier he would become, and the thirstier he became, the more madly he would pursue his own destruction.

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