Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 288

Selene looked Gwyneth squarely in the eye. “So what’s in it for me if I work with you?”

With an easy smile, Gwyneth slid her iPad across the table. “I have a project I’d like to offer you a stake in. You bring the tech, I bring the capital, and we split the profits evenly. If you’re as sharp as people say, Miss Thompson, you won’t want to miss out on this.”

Selene scrolled through the project summary, her surprise barely concealed.

She’d been sitting on a new line of research in this exact field. The problem was, even if she perfected the technology, she lacked the infrastructure to take it from the lab to the real world.

But this proposal—backed by the city government and with Vaughn Enterprises already set to implement the tech—opened doors she’d thought closed.

Gwyneth had already poured a fortune into the project. That she was now offering to share it could only mean one of two things: either this was a smokescreen, or her own technical team had hit a wall.

And if Gwyneth knew Selene had studied under Leo, it was entirely possible she wanted access not just to Selene, but to Leo’s research group.

If Selene joined in, she’d be the client to Vaughn Enterprises’ team. The thought was tempting.

She chuckled. “Should I be worried I’m bargaining with the wolf?”

Gwyneth heaved a theatrical sigh. “People who tiptoe through life miss out on the best opportunities. I got to where I am because I’m not afraid to strike a deal, even with my rivals.”

“Am I your rival?” Selene asked, her smile enigmatic.

Gwyneth’s expression softened, her striking features gentling. “We’re both women, Selene. That’s why I want to give you a hand up.”

Selene set the iPad down. “Funny, I had the impression you and my father were friends.”

Gwyneth’s laughter was bright and unabashed. “There are no permanent friends—only lasting interests. If shoving Victor off a cliff could bring me a fortune, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it.”

She picked up two glasses from the table, handing one to Selene.

Earlier, as Selene had slipped into the glimmering waters of the spa’s heated pool, a staff member had snapped a photo of her with his phone.

Moments later, the image lit up Harrison’s screen.

“Mr. Vaughn, she’s at The Enclave.”

He frowned. Why would Selene go somewhere like that?

“Send the photo to Adrian,” Harrison instructed.

It wasn’t long before one of his men returned with an update.

“Mr. Shaw has seen the photo.”