PAYBACK Of Johnson Lancaster

Chapter 7: Invisible Chokehold

Three days had passed since the glittering chaos of the Ben Group anniversary gala, but the high-society joy inside the executive suites of Vax Company had vanished.

Haven Tyler was at the head of the table, his fingers tapping a fast, nervous beat against the surface. His proud look from the gala was gone, replaced by a dark, sweaty scowl.

"What do you mean, declined?" Haven snapped, glaring across the table at his chief financial helper.

The assistant swallowed hard, holding a stack of billing papers like a shield. "Sir, our main bank accounts have been frozen by the merchant bank. They claim an automatic check flagged our cash reserves as high risk. Also, Mrs. Rice’s coffee supply chain has hit a brick wall; her anonymous wholesale partners just pulled out overnight without any reason."

Haven struck his hand against the table, rattling the glass water pitchers. "Useless! Total incompetence!" he roared, his voice cracking with sudden panic. "Call the local banks! Tell them who I am! Remind them that the Ben Group just secured a huge estate and we are untouchable!"

"We tried, sir," the assistant whispered, his face stiff. "The bank directors won't even take our calls. Someone, or some massive company, is locking down every single cash line we control."

Across town in her own office, Isabella was walking back and forth across the soft carpet, her expensive diamond earrings swinging with every angry step. Her phone buzzed against her palm for the fifth time that morning, showing another desperate text from her mother.

"Isabella!" Mrs. Rice’s text screamed in capital letters. "The main warehouse doors are locked! The suppliers are refusing our shipments! Call Haven right now and make him fix this! Some invisible bastard is trying to ruin us!"

Isabella threw her phone onto the sofa, her chest heaving with bitter hate. Everything was supposed to be perfect. They had kicked out their worthless, broken ex-husband, secured their status, and stepped into paradise. Yet, less than a week later, their whole world was quietly being squeezed by an unseen, crushing fist.

"It has to be a glitch," Isabella muttered to herself, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Or... or it's just some angry rival from the auction house. It has nothing to do with us. Everything is fine."

But deep down inside, a cold, scary feeling began to grow. The walls were closing in, and neither she nor Haven had any idea who was holding the hammer.

Miles away from the panic of Vax Company, inside a secure penthouse lit by soft amber lamps, the aura was totally different.

Johnson sat comfortably in a chair, his posture fully settled. The wheelchair trick had done its job at the gala, and today he sat with absolute power. Spread out across the large table in front of him were detailed, live business charts, money flow sheets, and debt maps.

Standing beside the table was Elena, her eyes shining with fierce respect as she traced a finger across the glowing computer lines.

"The money pressure is working just like we planned, Mr. Johnson," Elena reported, her voice low and respectful. "Vax Company’s main cash pools are totally choked. Their short-term debt is coming due faster than they can pay it, and Mrs. Rice’s supply chain shell companies have nowhere left to run."

Natasha leaned against the opposite wall, a sharp, confident smirk playing on her lips as she crossed her arms. "They think they're dealing with a random market glitch. They are so blinded by their own pride that it never once crossed their minds that a multi-million-dollar trap was being zipped shut around their necks."

Johnson raised a hand, his eyes fixed quietly on the data feeds. He felt no early joy, only a cold, careful focus.

The sting of their humiliation, the memory of Isabella laughing while he bled on the kitchen floor, still plunged in his blood, driving every calculated move.

He wasn't rushing the kill. He wanted them to feel the slow, heavy weight of their own sins before the blow fell.

"Keep the money pressure steady," Johnson ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Do not give them room to breathe, but leave just enough daylight for them to keep lying to themselves. Let them think they can fight their way out."

"Understood," Elena replied, bowing her head slightly.

"As for Vax Company's internal setup," Natasha added smoothly, tapping a second file on the screen, "their board of directors is panicking. They've called an emergency meeting for today to figure out who is bleeding their accounts. And of course, Isabella and Haven got mandatory notices."

Johnson offered a slow smile, his fingers placed lightly on the edge of the table. "Good. Let them walk right into the middle of the storm."

Back at the Vax Company headquarters, the double doors of the executive suite swung open, and a shaking secretary rushed over to where Isabella and Haven were standing.

"Mr. Tyler! Ms. Juliana!" the secretary panted, holding a clipboard to her chest. "The board meeting is about to begin. But... there's a strict order from the upper management tier."

Haven scowled, fixing his cuffs as he tried to hide his growing fear with fake bravery. "What is it now? Speak up!"

"The board has brought in a new, high-ranking executive… to steady our accounts," the secretary stammered, looking nervously between them. "An Assistant General Manager with higher power. Every department head, including your management division, Ms. Juliana, must attend the meeting in the main conference room right now. Your jobs are under direct review."

Isabella Juliana’s expression fell. She grabbed Haven’s arm, her voice shaking. "Under review?! Haven, what does that mean? Are they taking away my title?"

Haven’s jaw tightened into a hard knot of stubborn denial. He puffed out his chest, forcing an arrogant sneer back onto his face.

"Relax, Isabella," Haven snapped, though his own hands were shaking a little. "It's just normal business changes. Some corporate suit from headquarters is trying to show off. Let's go in there right now and show them who actually runs this company. Nobody touches our jobs."

Together, Haven and Isabella walked down the long, carpeted hallway toward the executive conference room. The heavy doors waited ahead of them, closed tightly against the rest of the floor.

Isabella stopped for a split second outside the door, a sudden, cold chill washing over her spine. A strange, heavy feeling of discomfort gripped her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Nodding hard, she pushed the bad feeling away. She reminded herself of who she was, a woman of high status, engaged to a rising business star, living a life far above the broken, poor past she had left behind.

With a sharp breath, Haven pushed the conference room doors open, stepping forward into the silent, waiting room, in the dark that the shadow mastermind who owned their entire business life, and every breath they took, had a twist waiting for them on the other side.