Novels by Davidad

The grand auditorium was filled with every notable figure from the business world. Elite investors, conglomerate CEOs, and influential stakeholders filled every seat, their eyes focused on the stage. The Meta Gala had reached its climax, and the results of the Blackwell Media Group bidding war had just been announced.Mr Hogan stood at the podium, chest rising with pride. “I am now the owner of Blackwell Media Group. Every share, every stock, and every decision belongs to me. I am the president, I am the CEO, and nothing can change that.” His voice echoed confidently across the room. Applause rose from his supporters, a mixture of forced politeness and genuine admiration.Finn Rowe stepped forward, his posture calm and commanding. His hands rested lightly on the edge of the podium, and his eyes never left Hogan. “Mr Hogan,” he said, voice steady, “do you truly believe you now hold the Blackwell Media Group? Do y

The gala hall buzzed with tension. Mr Hogan had just finished berating Finn, gathering his supporters to shout insults, demanding Finn leave the venue. Finn did not flinch. He stood calm, his presence commanding more attention than the chaos around him.From behind him, Ivan emerged, moving swiftly through the crowd. He carried a sleek tablet, the screen glowing faintly in his hands. He stopped beside Finn and handed it over silently. Finn took it, his eyes scanning the display. A faint smile crossed his face.“You’re ready,” Ivan said quietly, almost inaudibly, enough for Finn to hear.Finn nodded. “Showtime.”He tapped the tablet, and the screen behind him lit up, projecting a full-scale telegraph map. Lines connected every node, tracing transactions, transfers, and digital movements. At the center of it all, glowing in bold red, was Mr Hogan’s name. 

Finn stood in the center of the gala hall, the weight of every elite’s gaze pressing against him. The applause for Mr Hogan’s victory still lingered in the air, but Finn’s words cut through the celebration like a blade. “The Blackwell Media Group stocks were cyphered on the dark web,” he declared calmly. “The person responsible is Mr Hogan himself.”A ripple of shock spread across the room. Conversations stopped mid-sentence. Glasses clinked against plates. Some investors whispered urgently to one another, trying to comprehend what Finn had just said. Others stared at Hogan, waiting for him to react.Hogan’s expression changed. A faint smile appeared, sharp and controlled. “Who is this riff raff?” he asked loudly. “Who gave you the audacity to speak in front of the elites of this world?”Finn met his gaze without flinching. “I am Finn Rowe. And

The room fell into a tense silence as the gala system prepared to announce the results. Every elite in the VIP hall leaned forward slightly, some shifting in their seats, others exchanging subtle glances. The air was heavy with expectation. Finn Rowe remained composed at the edge of the hall, his posture calm, his eyes scanning each face for reactions and micro-expressions.The system’s voice echoed crisply over the hall’s speakers. “The winner of the Blackwell Media Group bidding, with the highest number of shares secured, is Mr Hogan.”A ripple of applause swept through the room. Mr Hogan’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. He rose from his seat, walking confidently toward the center of the hall, hands raised briefly in acknowledgment of the clapping. Every eye seemed glued to him; his posture radiated authority and satisfaction. Investors whispered amongst themselves, evaluating the implications of his vic

The room shifted with tension as the first round of bidding closed. Investors murmured among themselves, weighing each offer, observing the body language of bidders, calculating risks in whispers that barely reached casual ears. The air carried the faint hum of anticipation and suppressed excitement, a delicate tension that Finn Rowe could feel like an electric charge. He stood at the side, calm, calculating, every sense alert, cataloging gestures, glances, and subtle movements. This was more than a contest of shares—it was a battlefield of influence, strategy, and perception.The Gala Host stepped forward again, raising a hand for silence. “Investors, the bidding phase is complete. You have observed each offer, the strategies of the bidders, and the reactions of your fellow investors. It is now time for the persuasion stage. Each bidder will address you directly and explain why their vision is the most suitable for controlling the Blackwell Media Gr

The murmurs faded as the Gala Host stepped onto the raised dais. The man was tall and impeccably dressed in a black suit that gleamed under the chandeliers. He carried an air of authority that demanded attention without a word. Cameras focused, media crews whispered, and all eyes in the hall pivoted toward him. Finn Rowe’s eyes scanned the crowd, noting the subtle shifts in posture, the tightened jaws, and the narrowed eyes of the bidders.“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Host began, his voice projecting clearly across the hall, “welcome to the Meta Gala. Tonight, you are not merely spectators. You are participants in a contest of strategy, influence, and authority. The prize is control of the Blackwell Media Group shares, the most sensitive and vital asset within the Blackwell empire. Your bids will determine your alignment with investors, your influence over the board, and ultimately, your position in the hierarchy of power.”&n