The warehouse on the outskirts of the city was utterly silent, the kind of silence that pressed against the eardrums and seemed to magnify the sound of every breath. Rourke entered with the easy confidence of a man who had walked into a thousand dangerous rooms before. His polished shoes tapped softly on the floor, echoing just enough to announce his presence. He was dressed impeccably, as always dark suit, white shirt, no tie. His hair slicked back in a way that looked careless but wasn’t. He paused halfway to the table, seeing him already waiting.“You’re late,” came the voice from the shadows.It was low, calm, and carried the quiet authority of someone who didn’t need to raise his voice to command a room.Rourke’s lips curved into a faint, amused smirk. “Only by three minutes, I assume you didn’t die waiting.”Ven stepped into the light, and for a moment, even Rourke who prided himself on being unshakable felt the weight of his presence. Ven’s features were lean, sharp, controlle

The room was silent save for the soft hum of the ventilation system. Ven sat behind the desk in his private office, one hand resting over the armrest of his chair while the other tapped lightly on the desk. The walls were lined with discreet monitors some showing global market movements, others tracking the fall of certain stocks linked to the Brown Empire. It was late evening, yet he had been at this since dawn, sifting through layers of numbers, consolidating his position quietly and efficiently.Bryan stood opposite him, a digital tablet in hand, his posture straight but his eyes sharp and alert. “The purchase through Fez’s trusts has been completed. We now hold a direct twenty-four percent in the primary holding company.” He swiped across the screen, revealing figures and shareholder names. “Additionally, with the minority shareholders we’ve secured through private agreements, your effective influence stands at thirty-four percent.”Ven’s eyes didn’t waver from the screen on his

The night was still young when Ven returned to his house after swallowing a pill of surprise. He is just happy he went as promised.Bryan was already waiting in the main room, leaning casually against the table, though his sharp eyes betrayed his tension. Multiple encrypted screens glowed behind him, displaying real-time stock values, surveillance feeds, and a live monitor of Brown Empire’s financial backbone,it has become the daily meal. Checking the values and analysis of Brown Financial assets and liabilities.Ven walked in, silent as ever, removing his coat with deliberate slowness. Bryan straightened.“You were gone longer than expected,” Bryan remarked, voice cool but edged with curiosity. “Did the meeting yield anything useful, or was it another dead end?”Ven approached the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Not a dead end," he said flatly. “A turning point.”Bryan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?"Ven reached inside his inner coat pocket and produced the envelope Rosav had giv

Davis stood in front of the vast window of his office, the skyline of the city sprawled out beneath him like a map of opportunities waiting to be seized. His mind was on the coveted chairmanship of Brown Empire. It wasn’t just a title to him,it exudes power, legacy, and the final proof that he Davis Brown, won at last the coveted seat and the dream was achieved.He took a slow sip of his whiskey down his throat.On the outside, he wore the mask of unity playing the loyal younger brother standing behind Henry as the current chairman, pretending solidarity with Victory, making public statements of strength and cooperation to reassure shareholders and the public alike. But beneath that calm exterior lay a meticulously calculated plan to claim the throne of Brown Empire for himself.The annual shareholders’ voting meeting was drawing closer with each passing day. That meeting would decide the company’s future leadership,either to retain Henry as chairman, elect someone else, or even intro

The room was dark, as it always was during their meetings. Heavy curtains blocked signifying darkness, and the only illumination came from a single lamp in the center of the long, polished table. Around it sat three figures, their faces obscured in the dimness, their voices carefully modulated to maintain anonymity.The silence hung for a moment, oppressive and heavy, before one of them spoke, a low, voice edged with frustration."Things are spiraling."The second figure, whose tone carried a cold, calculated precision, responded without hesitation. "Spiraling? More like crumbling. The court verdict should have buried him, but instead, it legitimized him. Ven is now officially a Brown, with every legal right to challenge us."The third figure, the one who had always been the most cautious, tapped a gloved finger on the table. “Do not forget the offshore accounts. Two billion siphoned from under their noses. We had our hooks deep in that money flow. Now, gone. Someone inside is dismant