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THE CHESSBOARD OF VENGEANCE
Author: Victor Amos Regannez
last update2024-12-16 16:39:22

Mr. Richmond sat alone in his office, his fingers were drumming nervously on the polished wooden desk.

His eyes darted to the clock on the wall every few minutes, then to his watch, as if the act of checking the time would hasten Akintola’s arrival.

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner, which did little to soothe his growing unease.

He had been confident this morning. Confident that Akintola’s arrival would mark the first step toward saving Richmond Tech from its spiraling decline.

Mr Akintola had promised to meet him by noon, and Mr. Richmond had spent hours preparing for their discussion, rehearsing his pitch in front of the mirror and jotting down critical points to make his case.

But now it was 1:30 p.m., and Akintola was still nowhere to be seen.

Mr Richmond’s confidence began to waver. He fidgeted in his seat, adjusting his tie, loosening it, then tightening it again.

His phone lay on the desk, the screen was dark and silent. He picked it up, his
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  • THE CLOCK AND THE KNIFE

    Farouq Khyber glanced at the heavy gold watch on his wrist. The ticking was soft but clear in the silent room. He looked up at Carl Bowen, who was still standing—face pale, eyes sharp, mind racing.“You should not take too long,” Farouq said quietly. “Time is not your friend right now.”Carl turned to him slowly, the weight of his breath was pushing out of his chest.“You expect me to decide now?” he asked. His voice was flat, but the tension behind it cracked like dry leaves under pressure. “You want me to make a decision this heavy... here, now, in this very moment?”Farouq nodded once. “Your time is going, Mr. Bowen. I won’t sit here all night waiting for you to wrestle with your conscience.”Carl’s face twisted into a deeper frown. “This isn’t a conscience decision. It’s a trap. And I don’t make life-and-death choices while standing under a blade.”Farouq folded his arms loosely, the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth suggested he found that statement amusing.Carl took a

  • THE TERMS OF EXTINCTION

    Farouq Khyber sat still, his eyes were locked on Carl Bowen like a hawk watching a trembling mouse. For a few moments, there was only silence in the room. It wasn’t peaceful silence—it was the kind that pressed down on the skin, made the air feel thick, and made the heart beat louder inside the chest.Then, slowly, Farouq’s gaze softened. Not much—but enough to be noticed.“You surprise me, Mr. Bowen,” he said, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “Many men would be on their knees by now. Many men have begged me for less than what I just offered. But you? You sit straight. You speak clearly. You even pretend to smile.”Carl said nothing, but his jaw tightened.Farouq continued, his voice was low and almost admiring.“I can see the weight on your shoulders,” he said. “The pressure pressing in from every side. Your company is frozen. Your employees are restless. Your partners whisper behind your back. And yet, here you are—playing calm. Acting as if you still hold the cards.”He l

  • ICE AND STEEL

    Farouq Khyber stepped forward slowly, like a man who had all the time in the world. His eyes scanned the room with silent curiosity—not with awe, but with judgment. His movements were controlled, measured, deliberate.Carl Bowen motioned towards the chair across from his desk.“Have a seat, please,” he said.Farouq gave another small nod and walked to the chair, his polished black shoes made soft sounds against the marble floor. He sat down carefully, not slouching, not relaxing, but sitting with quiet power. One leg crossed over the other. His back was straight. His hands rested gently on his knee.Carl walked back to his own side of the desk and sat down too. He made sure to move with calmness, though his heart was still beating faster than normal.“Would you like anything to drink?” Carl offered. “Tea? Coffee?”Farouq’s face remained unreadable. “No. Thank you.”His voice was smooth but cold, like water running over ice.Carl tried to smile, just a little, to ease the tension in

  • THE VISITOR IN BLACK

    Carl Bowen had been assured that a solution would come.The voice on the phone—cold and commanding—had given him that much. The assurance wasn’t gentle, but it had weight. The kind of weight that didn’t feel like comfort, but something stronger: certainty.The voice had said, “You will not fall. I’ll see to that myself. One way or another, the Bowen family will not crumble.”Carl had held on to those words like a lifeline.That had been one week ago.Now, he sat in his office, with a thick porcelain mug warming his hands. The coffee inside had gone lukewarm, but he hadn’t touched it in several minutes. The dark liquid swirled slowly as he shifted in his chair.On the wide screen in front of him, the Westwood Business News was playing. He wasn’t really watching it—just letting the noise fill the silence of the room. The screen displayed a panel of analysts talking about recent power shifts in the financial sector, and speculation about the “Bowen Freeze.”Carl’s jaw was tight.His su

  • WHAT ELSE COULD GO WRONG

    The chaos that occurred in the Bowen data centre was a well known disaster but he had buried the main consequence of it for weeks now.He decided to push it, and to suppress it for as long as he could, but it hadn’t. It had festered, and now, the reality and gravity of the situation was staring back at him in the face.Like poison through a crack in the dam, the effect of that glitch in the Bowen data centre was spilling into everything.Carl turned a corner into one of the lower hallways, his pace was slowing only slightly. His breath came in shallow, strained pulls.He didn’t hear Alina behind him until she called his name.“Carl!”He froze.Her voice was closer than he expected. He turned slowly.She was standing at the end of the corridor, panting slightly. The soft light from the wall lamps caught in her hair, making it shimmer like wet silk.She approached cautiously, as though afraid he might bolt again.“Why did you leave?” she asked gently.Carl didn’t answer.“You looked te

  • THE WALK AWAY

    Carl stood frozen by the window, his hand still pressed to the cool glass, as if it grounded him in a world quickly spiraling out of control. The silence stretched again—tense, unrelenting.Eric stepped forward, his voice was calm but it was edged with tension.“Carl,” he said, carefully. “Talk to me. Please.”Carl didn’t turn around.“I told you,” he said, quietly. “They acted because of the first glitch.”Eric frowned. His brows knitted together as he took a slow breath.“What glitch?” he asked.Carl still didn’t move. His reflection in the glass looked older, more tired, like a man already buried in his own regrets.“The first glitch…” he repeated, almost to himself.Eric’s voice hardened. “You’re avoiding the question. I asked what it is.”Carl’s jaw clenched. His fingers twitched at his side, as though they longed to grab something—maybe time, maybe silence. He finally turned, just slightly, enough to look back over his shoulder.“It’s private,” he said.Eric’s temper, already

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