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Home / Urban / Money Games: The Tycoon Overlord / 68 El Maleq's Envoy
68 El Maleq's Envoy
Author: MKmanyr
last update2024-11-30 18:14:24

Austin leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the glass table. His eyes moved lazily from one face to the next.

The financials, the markets, the numbers—they were all there, laid out on the table like an open book. But none of that was why he was irritated. It was the way they were looking at him, as if they owned him, as if they could tell him what to do.

Farhan’s envoys.

They’d been to enough meetings by now to know how things worked, but today they were different—more arrogant, as if they had more power than Austin himself.

Theirs was the power of the El Maleq, but today, it felt like they thought they could push him around. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but their condescension was starting to rub him the wrong way.

"We don't think the deal with the Eastern market is as lucrative as you believe, Austin." The envoy in the middle, a man named Rashid, spoke as though Austin hadn’t already calculated every angle. He tapped his fingers on the table, and his v
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  • 100 Gone

    The room was heavy with tension. The air thick, as if the walls themselves could sense the finality of what was about to unfold. Austin stood at the center of the secret basement, his sharp eyes scanning the faces of the people who had stood by him, helped him build this empire. The Blake family Elders, Senator Hayes, Farhan, and the others—his closest allies—were all gathered, eyes filled with something more than just respect.It was the weight of a journey, a history, and an unspoken understanding that this chapter was closing."Well, it’s time," Austin said, his voice calm but edged with determination. His words hung in the air for a moment before they sank into the hearts of those around him. Farhan stood beside him, arms crossed, his usual bravado replaced with a quiet, contemplative air. The years had changed them both. They had grown older, more thoughtful, more burdened by the responsibilities they’d carried for so long. Yet their connection remained unshaken. The bond of

  • 99 Old Buddies

    The whiskey glass in Austin's hand was half empty, the amber liquid swirling around as he tapped his fingers lightly against the rim. His mind, sharp as ever, wasn't focused on the business of the day. Instead, it was on the conversation that had been simmering in his mind for weeks now. Across from him sat Farhan Maleq and James, two of the few men who had stuck by him through thick and thin, who had seen him rise and fall, and now, who were part of the very foundation he had built. They weren’t just allies anymore; they were family.Farhan leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on Austin. The years had changed him, just as they had changed Austin, but there was a familiarity in the air. It was the kind of silence you could only share with people who had seen you at your worst and still stuck around. The weight of the world they’d carried together was too much for just words to explain.James, ever the quiet one, was staring into his glass, eyes unfocused but filled with a k

  • 98 New Lives

    The room buzzed with quiet murmurs and soft laughter, a stark contrast to the bloody chaos of just a few years ago. The grand hall of the Blake estate was draped in gold and white, the colors of celebration and unity. Every corner of the room radiated opulence, a testament to the new world order that Austin had built with his iron will. Emma sat in an intricately carved chair at the center of the stage, her face glowing with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. The twins lay in her arms, swaddled in soft fabrics that probably cost more than the average person’s yearly salary. Austin stood next to her, his towering frame exuding authority even as his gaze softened every time it flickered to the babies. The crowd of global elites, Mafia heads, and influential dignitaries stood below, glasses raised in celebration. Farhan, representing the El Maleq, stepped forward to speak. “To the future of our world,” he began, his voice smooth and commanding. “And to the two children who symbol

  • 97 A New World

    Austin sat at the head of the table, his presence alone silencing the murmurs that rippled through the room. Representatives from the El Maleq family, the Shadow Council, and other former Mafia factions filled the massive conference hall. Farhan stood to his right, his gaze sharp and unreadable, while Senator Hayes leaned back in his chair, his face set in an expression of calm calculation. "This isn’t a negotiation," Austin said, his voice low but carrying. "This is a reality check. The days of fractured territories and petty rivalries are over. From now on, the Blake family is at the center, and I lead the world. Anyone who can’t live with that is free to leave—preferably without causing a scene." Farhan smirked slightly, but his eyes scanned the room for any signs of dissent. The silence was heavy, the weight of Austin’s words pressing down on everyone present. Senator Hayes finally spoke, his voice measured. "No one’s questioning your power, Austin. But centralizing everyth

  • 96 Dealing With Aftermath

    Austin sat at the edge of a conference table in the Blake family’s main office. The room was packed with faces that wore varying levels of exhaustion and wariness, but none could deny the determination etched into their features. Farhan leaned back in his chair, flipping a pen between his fingers, while Emma sat opposite Austin, scanning through a list of proposed actions. “The loot from the war,” Emma began, her tone sharp and deliberate, “is more than enough to compensate every major city affected by the fighting. But if we’re not careful, this could spiral into another power struggle.” Austin exhaled slowly, his hands resting on the table. “No more power struggles,” he said firmly. “We’ve had enough bloodshed. The loot is going to rebuild, educate, and unite. Anyone who tries to hoard it or weaponize it is going to wish they hadn’t.” Farhan chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “You’re asking wolves to stop hunting, mate. They’ll need more than a warning.” “They’ll ge

  • 95 Revolutionary

    The war was over, but the silence it left in its wake was deafening. Cities that had been battlegrounds now bore the scars of Austin’s conquest: shattered buildings, scorched earth, and a populace weary of the bloodshed. Yet amidst the rubble, a new world was being forged. Austin had no intention of letting the old order crawl back from the ashes. The grand hall of the Blake family’s headquarters buzzed with activity. Delegates from the former Mafia factions sat stiffly around the long table, their postures wary. Some still bore the bruises and cuts from their recent battles, their pride as battered as their bodies. Austin entered without ceremony, his presence demanding silence. Dressed in a sharp black suit, his gaze swept over the room. He didn’t need to speak for the tension to settle like a weight on everyone’s shoulders. “We’ve spent decades clawing at each other’s throats,” he began, his voice sharp, cutting through the room. “For what? Territory? Power? Pride? And where

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