2024-04-18 02:28:37
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The Davisons:
That night, Keith sat at his apartment, files sprawled across his dining table. One in particular caught his eye—a cross-reference of investors and shell companies. Most of the connections were dead ends… except one.He hadn’t thought of them in months. The Davisons were powerful, discreet, and infamously detached from the public spotlight. But their name popped up—barely—in a transfer to a subsidiary recently restructured into a tech-based logistics competitor now bidding aggressively for the same contracts Marshall Corp had its eyes on.Keith’s phone buzzed.Leonard.He picked up. “Hey.”“I have news,” Leonard said without greeting. “The competitor targeting Marshall? We ran a full audit trail. It's being funded through proxies—offshore firms, fake holdings. But we finally traced the money.”Keith sat forward. “Let me guess. The Davison family.”A long pause. Then Leonard cursed. “You found it too.”“They’re not just watching Marshall Corp,” Keith said. “They’re moving in.”Leonard’
The Plan:
The room was quiet aside from Keith’s laptop softly humming. The transfer bar blinked at Ninety-eight percent then Ninety-nine percent, then completed. Keith dry swallowed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the now secure Marshall Corporation archival database on his screen.“Done,” he said to himself.His fingers hovered over the keyboard as if to try and revert back. But this was permanent. The data: sensitive projections, confidential financial models, internal audits, were no longer solely within his dominion. Barry had it now. Or at least had a backdoor to it.His phone buzzed.Barry.Just the name made Keith’s stomach tighten. He inhaled once, then picked up.“You’ve been efficient,” Barry’s voice poured through the speaker like warm steel. “Impressive. I knew you would be.”“I kept my word,” Keith said, staring at the screen. “The files are transferred. All of them.”A pause.“Good. It’s nice when people understand the stakes.” Barry’s voice dipped. “And when they don’t…
The Will Of A Man:
That night, Keith didn’t go home. He couldn’t. He booked a room at a discreet hotel on the edge of the city, not wanting to bring any of Barry’s reach near his son, Seth. He had enough problems to deal with already, ever since the confrontation with his mother.Alone in the room, Keith placed the flash drive on the nightstand and stared at it like it might sprout legs and crawl into the computer on its own.His phone buzzed. Unknown number.He didn’t pick up.It buzzed again. This time, a message.**Tick-tock, Mr. Marshall. Bella works late tomorrow. Would be a shame if she didn’t make it home.**Keith’s jaw clenched. That was the line. Threatening him was one thing. Threatening her—even if they weren’t personally close—was another.He opened his laptop and ran the flash drive through a private, air-gapped system, logging into a clone environment he used to audit company material.The drive required a password.Of course it did.He typed: **Barry**.Access denied.He tried: **Marshall
The Weight Of Blackmail:
Keith’s hands felt really heavy with the flash drive. The size was so tiny and could be mistaken for a bomb. Barry's message was clear:Transfer the contents to the Marshall Corporation archival database. Midnight. No delays. No excuses. Or someone disappears.The room was full of Keith’s thoughts as he paced back and forth in his office, clenching and unclenching his fingers all the while. Each second that passed seemed like ticking time till doomsday.Then came a creak from his door. He immediately put the flash drive away.Bella stepped into the office, excluding all elegance carrying a cup of coffee. “You were absent during the commercial shooting,” she said in an almost whispering voice, “I thought maybe you would want this.”He ignored her presence by turning towards it and pretending to look out of it at the raindrops running down on his windowpane pretending not to notice how wet it had become.“Thank you.” He muttered pretendly lost in thoughts about work.Bella placed the co
Barry’s Threat:
Barry stepped forward, one hand casually brushing a crystal pen on Keith’s desk. “Do you remember the party, Keith? The lights, the dancing, the betrayal... the escape?”Keith remained silent.“I do,” Barry said with a smirk. “You and that little beauty—what was her name again? Bella? You ran from me. Quite rudely, I might add.”“She’s not part of this anymore,” Keith said quickly, fists clenching at his sides. “Leave her out of it.”“Out of it?” Barry laughed. “Oh, Keith. You made her part of it the moment you brought her to my event. The moment you let her get a glimpse of my world. And then—like a thief in the night—you both vanished. Didn’t even say goodbye.”“You threatened her life,” Keith snapped.Barry waved a hand. “Minor detail. You’ve seen what I’m capable of. You know the weight I carry in this city. And yet here you are… making me come to you.”He leaned in.“To settle scores.”Keith’s throat dried. He tried to stand tall, keep the fear buried.“I didn’t take anything fro
Barry’s Confrontation:
The pressure inside Keith 's office was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “You made a promise, Keith l,” said the older shareholder, his voice booming around the office. “One month to lift our stock. What do we see instead? Decline, uncertainty, and silence.” Keith’s jaw clenched. He stayed in place behind the hulking desk,fingers hovering over the Montblanc pen that, like him, has remained untapped for hours.The morning briefing just ended and somehow he was in trouble yet again.“Trust me I am not blind sir Gilmore,” Keith answered, taking a moment to control the tremors in his tone.“But unlike you, I don’t choose to react to numbers with vague outlines. There’s acquisitions in motion” “Excuses. Pure excuses,” Gilmore interjected.“That was you boasting at the shareholders meeting, trust me. Give me a month, you said. Well guess what Keith, your month’s up.” The scoff from Keith's mouth stayed stuck on his lips, until he was interrupted by the soft hum of his desk phon
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