2024-01-06 21:16:26
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Power Play In Oklahoma:
John Davison entering through the glass doors stirred the atmosphere within the Hades Corporation building.His presence commanded attention, and with a perfectly tailored suit black as night, he made power tangible.His reputation, ruthless and domineering, was augmented by the well-kept salt-and-pepper hair and sharply defined jawline. Conversations hushed and postures stiffened as he entered. “OMG! Isn’t that John Davison?!” One of the employees exclaimed in the rush.“Yes! I wonder what he's doing here.”“Haven’t you heard? Mr Harry cancelled all collaborations with the Davison’s family. I’m sure he’s here to settle some scores!”John was flanked by two guards, dressed in black, mingling with the crowd while observing every detail with hawk-like intensity. With every step, they added to the rhythm of oppression in the atmosphere.As John Davison entered, the receptionist trembled slightly, picking up the phone to call Harry’s secretary. “Ms Smith, I have Mr. Davison on the li
Leonard’s Wrath:
The classic chandelier’s light spark as if in a gentle breeze, casting long shadows on the black marble floor of Leonard’s private study.He leaned back on his glass desk, swirling dark amber liquor in a crystal tumbler while tapping on his phone screen.It settled on a name, “Harry Hades”.Without hesitation, he pressed the call button and coldly lifted the receiver to his ear.The line rang.Then, a sharp click.“Leonard,” came a breathless voice, almost hurried as if expecting—or fearing—the call.“Good evening, Mr Marshall, I didn’t expect you to call so soon.” Leonard focused on the wall in front of him, but it felt like his presence was pressurizing the entire room. “You sound nervous, Harry.” “I” A nervous chuckle escaped.“Only surprised, that’s all.” “Julian Styles.” Leonard replied, humming lightly and swirling his drink once more. There was a beat of silence on the other end.“It’s been just a little over a month since we last spoke,”Leonard reiterated, “Styles wa
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
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