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CHAPTER 10 — THE NAME THAT REFUSED TO DIE
Author: Lionaira
last update2026-01-16 03:11:48

The room was silent. Not the awkward kind. The heavy kind.

Richard Hale stood at the head of the table again, hands resting on the polished wood, eyes moving slowly from face to face. The words spoken in the last meeting still hung in the air like smoke that refused to clear. He exhaled.

Then spoke. “Does anyone else,”

he said calmly, “have anything to say?”

No anger. No shouting. Just a question. People shifted in their seats. No one raised a hand. Richard nodded once, as if confirming what he already believed. “Good,”

he said. “Then”

A hand went up. Everyone turned.

It was a woman. Mid-thirties. Calm eyes. One of the few senior staff who had survived years without being sacked, mostly because she spoke little. Richard paused. His eyes rested on her hand. She had never raised it before.

“What is your name?”

he asked. “Amara,”

she replied softly. Richard gestured. “Speak.”

She stood slowly, smoothing her jacket, gathering herself. “Sir,”

she began, respectful but firm, “I don’t intend
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    Friday nights never changed.No matter how the week went, profit or loss, victory or humiliation, Richard Hale always ended his Fridays at the same bar. Same corner booth. Same low lights. Same seven men.They called themselves friends, but they were more like mirrors, men of power, ego, money, and influence. CEOs, investors, contractors, politicians-in-waiting. Men who believed the world bent because they leaned on it.The bar smelled of aged whiskey and polished wood. Jazz hummed softly in the background, just loud enough to drown out conscience.Richard arrived late. That alone drew attention. “Look who finally decided to join civilization,”one of them joked. Richard didn’t smile. He loosened his tie and dropped into the booth, signaling the bartender without a word. “Bad week?”another asked. Richard took the glass handed to him and swallowed deeply before answering. “Bad… realization,”he said. That caught their attention. They leaned in. Richard stared into his drink for a mome

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  • CHAPTER 10 — THE NAME THAT REFUSED TO DIE

    The room was silent. Not the awkward kind. The heavy kind.Richard Hale stood at the head of the table again, hands resting on the polished wood, eyes moving slowly from face to face. The words spoken in the last meeting still hung in the air like smoke that refused to clear. He exhaled.Then spoke. “Does anyone else,”he said calmly, “have anything to say?”No anger. No shouting. Just a question. People shifted in their seats. No one raised a hand. Richard nodded once, as if confirming what he already believed. “Good,”he said. “Then”A hand went up. Everyone turned.It was a woman. Mid-thirties. Calm eyes. One of the few senior staff who had survived years without being sacked, mostly because she spoke little. Richard paused. His eyes rested on her hand. She had never raised it before.“What is your name?”he asked. “Amara,”she replied softly. Richard gestured. “Speak.”She stood slowly, smoothing her jacket, gathering herself. “Sir,”she began, respectful but firm, “I don’t intend

  • CHAPTER 9 — THE LAST MEETING

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