THE RETURN Of the LEGENDARY KING of WAR

005: Valencia's Arrogance

Andrew walks into the sitting room and every soul stands on alert. Convos dies mid sentence, backs straighten, and the air shifts!

Dressed in a crisp, dark suit that hugs his tall frame with a militaristic look, he exudes the aura of a once-brutal commander. The fabric whispers power—a cut so immaculate and tailored to his stature, but it's the aura around him that commands more than respect. A cold, unspoken fear.

His shoes strike the marble floor, echoing like a ticking time bomb, counting down to someone's downfall. He doesn't speak, but his silence speaks volumes.

He has trained them not just to obey, but to understand his mood even before he speaks. Monday has arrived and he is in no mood to crack jokes with no one, because he is furiously going to collect!

He strides out of the mansion, into the back of the black G Wagon waiting outside. The car roars to life and moves through the city with purposeful grace.

Andrew's return isn't just personal, it's surgical. The board in Verizon has long veered off its course, hijacked by the chairwoman's alliances with foreign buyers and back channel deals that jeopardizes national interest.

Under her leadership, Virezon shifted from controlled ambition to reckless expansion, prioritizing profit over protocol.

They finally arrive at the headquarters of Verizon industries. But Andrew isn't here to negotiate, and neither is he going to hide from that Hitman. He wonders why he hadn't found him out. He thinks it's unusual.

A sight draws his attention, and his hands ball into fists, as he thinks about what it took him to raise this company.

He has built it before that hit on him… the hit that has forced him into that hiding. But it's fine. Just a little while longer. He is back to reclaim what he built with blood and discipline. And his goal with the board is simple: remove the pest infested part of the company and reclaim his seat, not just as a figurehead, but as the ghost in the machine, unseen, and unavoidable.

The board thinks they're attending a routine vote, but they have no idea a war is about to begin. And Andrew doesn't fight…fair.

Mason goes to open the door, but a hand lands softly on his lap. His head snaps towards his master, and he understands immediately. “Okay. Noted.”

He climbs down out of the car and buttons his suit with utmost grace as he walks into the looming building alone, and suddenly, he pauses, hanging around somewhere and tapping on his ears, he starts hearing voices.

***

Inside the boardroom, the mahogany table gleams under the white lights, high glass walls opening into a skyline set a flame by the morning sun.

The board members are already seated. Some of them shift uncomfortably on their seats, while others sit like statuses as if even their breath might spark something irreversible. The air is heavy with the quiet before a storm. A storm some of them have seen coming.

Valencia, the chairwoman strides in, pointy stilettos tapping with the arrogance of someone who still believes she's untouchable. Her pearl necklace shines almost as much as her smug smile.

“Morning gentlemen,” she purrs, relishing the feel of owning power as she slides into her seat at the head of the table as if she owns it.

But there is silence. Then, the secretary moves, silent as a mute as he distributes sealed folders to each board member. His face gives nothing away, but his fingers tremble subtly.

After he's done sharing, he says with a straight face. “There's been a… development,” his tone is crisp.

The board picks up the files. One by one, folders open. The moment the pages turn, facial expressions immediately shift. Those loyal to Valencia go pale, fear crawling up their spines. The rest, those who had always suspected but never cared to speak, wear expressions of quiet shock, like watching a dam finally break!

Valencia laughs, low and hollow. “W-What is this?” She asks, looking at the secretary. “Some kind of a joke?”

Mr Diego, the Vice Chairman doesn't even blink. “No, not some joke,” he says sternly. “Because we know everything!”

Valencia's hands twitch on the table. Her throat is suddenly dry. She reaches for the glasses of water but leaves it untouched. Her smile starts to crack.

Mr Santos speaks first, voice cool and deliberate. “14.2 million routed through phantom accounts tied to projects that never existed, really?”

Another one, Mr William joins in. “And private contracts awarded to your cousin's firm. No bids and no disclosures.” He reads aloud the words from the file. “Can you explain this to us, Valencia?”

“You didn't just steal, Valencia. You gutted this company and sold the bones!” Another one adds. “How could you?!”

Valencia hits her hand on the table, voice sharp and rising. “How dare you all talk to me in this manner?! If it weren't for me, this company would have fallen into ruins! You all should be thanking me and not saying such trash!”

“Trash?” Mr Diego scoffs. “Is it until you bulldoze this building before you agree that you're in the wrong? And thank you?” He scoffs again. “It will be over my dead body!”

Mr Diego continues despite his helplessness. “With all this proof, you know you will be demoted. A thief cannot sit on that chair and be called a leader.”

He has been tired of her. Diego knows she's stealing but he doesn't have proof. But since this one is lying on the table and staring right back at him, he didn't want to let it go.

However, he knows that he can only try. She can only be removed if there's an intervention from a higher up, someone higher than Valencia.

“On what proof, Mr Diego, should I be removed as the leader?” She asks with a cocky smirk on her lips. “Because I know, this,” she pauses, raising the file, “is just forged and doesn't prove anything.” She says and flings it away. The file falls and hits the floor.

“And moreover,” she presses, “if you want me removed, then an emergency vote should be cast, don't you think?”