2025-10-20 12:32:59The day began with tension thick enough to taste. By sunrise, the Imperial Crest was already a hive of movement. Cleaning carts rattled through corridors, telephones rang without pause, and voices whispered under the hum of air conditioning. The first day of the audit had arrived.
John Raymond buttoned his uniform, adjusting the collar until it sat perfectly straight. Every movement was deliberate now, every expression controlled. Behind the mirror of his calm eyes, thoughts churned like hidden machinery. He had been waiting for this day. The game had truly begun.
Downstairs, Mr Harrison barked orders across the lobby. “Check the registers again! Not one error, do you understand?” His voice carried like thunder. Staff scattered, each desperate to avoid his wrath.
John moved quietly among them, carrying files, serving guests, and listening. He caught fragments of conversation from managers huddled near the elevators. The external auditors were already in the boardroom, comparing last quarter’s accounts. Their arrival had everyone nervous, especially those with something to hide.
Rita stood at the reception desk, her usually steady hands trembling slightly as she flipped through guest logs. She looked up when John approached with a stack of reports. For a moment, their eyes met. The unease in her deepened.
“Morning,” John said evenly.
She hesitated, then whispered, “Be careful today. Harrison is angry about missing invoices.”
“Missing?” he asked, pretending ignorance.
She nodded. “Finance can’t find them. He’s blaming everyone.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, and walked away.
He took the service elevator to the mezzanine, where the finance department was in chaos. Miss Anabel’s hair had come loose from its bun, and papers were scattered around her desk like fallen leaves. She barely noticed John until he placed the new files beside her.
“Finally,” she muttered. “Do you know where the supplier receipts from March went?”
“No, ma’am.”
Her eyes flicked up sharply. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “Then Harrison will want to speak to you too. He thinks someone misplaced them during sorting.”
John nodded. “I’ll be in the lobby.”
He left before she could say more. The missing receipts were exactly what he had copied days ago. He had hidden the originals in the maintenance vent of the staff locker room. They were proof that Harrison had funnelled hundreds of thousands through shell companies linked to Mart-Dove.
As he passed the corridor overlooking the atrium, he spotted Jerry Martins striding toward the boardroom, his expensive suit immaculate. The man looked every inch the self-made tycoon, though John now knew his wealth was built on stolen foundations.
Jerry caught sight of him and smirked. “You again. Shouldn’t you be polishing shoes somewhere?”
John smiled faintly. “Already done, sir.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
John kept walking, his composure unbroken. He had learned something Shack had repeated during their last meeting: never fight the powerful where they expect you to. Wait until they fight shadows.
By noon, the first wave of auditors had combed through the ledgers. The hotel buzzed with tension. Harrison moved between departments, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning every face. At one point, he stopped near John.
“Raymond,” he said abruptly. “You filed March’s receipts last week?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then where are they now?”
John met his gaze without blinking. “They were delivered to the finance office. Miss Anabel checked them.”
Harrison’s eyes narrowed. “I will confirm that.” He turned on his heel and stormed away.
As soon as he was gone, John exhaled quietly. The web was tightening, just as Shack had predicted.
---
At five o’clock, the boardroom doors opened. The auditors stepped out, followed by Harrison, Jerry, and two board members. Their conversation was low but heated. John caught a few words as they passed.
“… irregular transfers … system errors … must verify sources …”
The men disappeared into the executive wing. John returned to the service hall where Collins was stacking trays.
“Big day, huh?” Collins said. “They say the audit might shut us down if something’s wrong.”
“Who says that?”
“Rita. She looked worried.”
John set down the trays. “If the hotel closes, what will you do?”
“Find another job, I guess. You?”
John smiled faintly. “I plan to stay.”
Collins laughed. “Good luck with that.”
When his shift ended, John changed clothes and slipped out the side exit. Shack’s car waited by the curb, engine running. John climbed in without a word. The older man studied him for a moment before speaking.
“Your work is paying off. Harrison is panicking.”
“He should be,” John said. “The auditors found the inconsistencies?”
“They found enough to question him. But he still believes the missing receipts are a clerical error. Keep it that way until we strike.”
John nodded. “What happens next?”
“You plant the originals back into the system tomorrow morning,” Shack said. “Quietly. When they reappear, it will look as though Harrison tried to hide them.”
“And Jerry?”
“Leave him to me for now. His arrogance will destroy him soon enough.”
They drove through the dark streets, the city lights flickering past like distant memories. Shack’s tone softened. “You are learning quickly, John. Remember, this war is not fought in boardrooms; it is fought in perception. When people start believing in you, power follows naturally.”
John looked out the window. “And when they stop believing in Harrison?”
“Then the empire will shift toward its rightful heir.”
---
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Chapter 18: The War for the Crest
Morning broke over the city like the calm before battle. The Imperial Crest stood tall, its glass towers catching the sun as if nothing had changed, yet inside, every corridor throbbed with urgency.John Raymond’s war had begun.He sat at the centre of the storm, the boardroom transformed into a command post. Screens displayed charts, transactions, and market feeds. Rita stood beside him, her face pale with exhaustion but her focus razor-sharp.“Another three investors just pulled out,” she said quietly. “The press is saying Sovereign is the future, and we’re the past.”John didn’t flinch. “Then we make the past unforgettable.”Dalton leaned forward. “We’ve traced Harrison’s funding trail through offshore accounts. He’s been buying up Crest shares through proxies. If he hits forty percent, he can launch a hostile takeover.”“How close is he?” John asked.“Thirty-four and rising.”John exhaled slowly. “Then we hit him where it hurts.”He turned to Rita. “Set up the leaks.”Her eyes wid
Chapter 17: The Sovereign’s Shadow
The morning after Shack’s death, the city woke to headlines that painted the sky in scandal. Top Executive Shot Inside Imperial Crest. Corporate Conspiracy or Internal Power Play? Reporters crowded the front of the hotel, their cameras flashing like lightning. The empire that had once embodied luxury now pulsed with rumours of betrayal and blood.John stood before the glass wall of his office, jaw tight, tie undone, eyes fixed on the skyline. Below, chaos churned. Inside, silence reigned. Shack’s death had not only broken him — it had ignited something in him that had been buried since his father’s death. The lion was awake again, and this time there would be no mercy.Rita entered quietly, placing a folder on his desk. “These are Shack’s personal effects,” she said. “Security cleared them an hour ago.”John didn’t look at it. “How many of the board members know what happened?”“Officially, none. Dalton’s keeping it under wraps for now. Unofficially…” she hesitated, “everyone.”Joh
Chapter 16: The Ghost of Loyalty
The hotel was quiet again, but the silence felt different now — strained, almost fragile. In the executive wing, the corridors were half-lit, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and tension. Outside, thunder murmured in the distance, promising another storm.John stood by the window of his office, the faint reflection of city lights glimmering in his eyes. The letter from his father lay on the desk behind him, its words branded in his mind. The man who guards your future once guarded my death.He turned as the door opened. Shack stepped in, moving with his usual calm, though his face looked older tonight. The years had finally caught up with him.“You said you wanted to talk,” John said quietly.Shack nodded. “I think it’s time you knew everything.”John’s gaze sharpened. “Then start.”Shack closed the door and leaned against it, his hands in his pockets. “Your father and I began working together long before the Crest became what it is. He was ambitious, brilliant, but too t
Chapter 15: Crown of Smoke
The city glowed like molten glass under the morning sun, as if the storm had never happened. From the top floor of The Imperial Crest, John Raymond watched the light spread over the skyline. It looked peaceful from a distance, but peace, he knew, was just a pause between wars.Two days had passed since the rooftop confrontation. The police had searched the surrounding streets and riverbanks, but no body was found. The official report called Harrison West “missing, presumed dead.” John did not believe it. The man had built his life on surviving ruin.He turned from the window as Rita entered. Her arm was bandaged, her expression calm but wary. “The board just arrived,” she said. “They’re waiting for you in the main hall.”John nodded, adjusting his cufflinks. “Let’s finish what he started.”The boardroom gleamed again, restored to perfection. Dalton stood at the head of the table, flanked by senior members. Shack sat quietly to one side, hands clasped. The room buzzed with tension as J
Chapter 14: The Night of the Lion
The Imperial Crest was never meant to sleep, but that night it felt uneasy, like a beast sensing danger in the dark. Rain whispered across the glass dome, wind sighing through the upper floors. Every corridor gleamed with silence. Every camera blinked like a nervous eye.John Raymond stood in his office, staring out over the city. The storm lights painted the skyline in flashes of silver. Shack stood behind him, speaking softly into a comm device. “All guards are in position. No one gets in or out without clearance.”“Good,” John said. “Harrison is not the type to wait forever.”He turned from the window. His suit jacket hung open, his shirt sleeves rolled, the fatigue in his face tempered by cold determination. For days, he had rebuilt order from chaos, only for new cracks to appear. Rita’s alleged betrayal, Rose’s reappearance, the board’s wavering trust — every piece on the board was moving, and the enemy was finally closing in.Shack ended the call. “Security sweep came back clean
Chapter 13: Ashes and Iron
Smoke still lingered in the air days after the explosion. The Imperial Crest no longer shone like the city’s crown; it stood wounded, its glass façade scarred with soot. But beneath the ruin, something else was rising, quiet, deliberate, unbreakable.John Raymond sat at the head of the emergency board table for the first time. The conference room smelled faintly of charred wiring and disinfectant. Around him sat the senior managers, journalists’ headlines glowing on their tablets. FIRE AT THE IMPERIAL CREST: SABOTAGE OR NEGLIGENCE?“We’ve confirmed it wasn’t an accident,” Shack said from his seat beside John. “The explosive was military-grade, planted directly beneath the network servers.”“And Harrison?” Dalton, the chairman, asked.“Still missing,” Shack replied. “Interpol has his name on the watch list, but no sightings.”John’s tone was steady. “He’ll surface. Men like him always believe they can come back.”Dalton rubbed his temples. “The board is divided. Some want to suspend al
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