A Vow of Deception, A Vow of Revenge novel Chapter 206

From a distance, Tyson watched, envy swirling in his eyes, nearly impossible to hide.

It didn’t matter. One day, he’d make sure to put Elvis beneath his heel.

Still, something was off—he hadn’t been able to reach Jude since last night. Tyson figured Jude was probably off somewhere, indulging in all kinds of excess, lost in the party scene, God knows where, with his phone discarded and forgotten.

Tyson frowned, a flicker of regret passing through him for ever making Jude his partner. If he was honest, Jude was no match for Jackson Quincy.

He glanced sideways.

Jackson was still in the event hall, seated at his table, his assistant beside him, holding a tablet and quietly discussing something with him.

Tyson had thought about approaching Jackson these past couple of days but hadn’t found the right moment. Now, finally, he saw his chance. Without hesitation, he strode over.

Jackson had just finished giving his assistant instructions and was getting up to leave when he heard someone call his name.

He turned around to see Tyson standing nearby, a polite smile plastered on his face.

“Mr. Quincy.”

Jackson’s expression darkened ever so slightly.

His voice was cool. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Quincy, do you have any plans tonight?” Tyson ignored the chill in Jackson’s tone. “I was hoping I could invite you to dinner, if you’d be willing to join me—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Jackson cut him off coldly, not even waiting for Tyson to finish.

The bluntness stung.

“That’s enough.”

Jackson clearly had no patience left. He stood, turned his back on Tyson, and walked away without another glance.

A wave of humiliation crashed over Tyson.

Once, he’d thought of himself as someone important—wherever he went, people treated him with respect, if not outright deference.

Now, it was obvious: here in the capital, among the city’s old money, he was nothing.

Elvis, Jeremiah Whitlock, Jackson—none of them took him seriously.

Only Winona ever had. She’d been born Miss Thorne, every bit the heiress, yet she’d never put on airs. She’d loved him sincerely, supported him and his company, treated his mother with kindness.

If only Winona were still with him—if he were the Thornes’ son-in-law, who among those men would dare look down on him now?