The King Of Crystal Diamond Is Back

006-Building The Glass Tower

The stock market of Chevron Province opened, and everyone became very greedy.

Just two days after getting the first approval from the big company Crystal Diamond, the stocks of Pentagon Winery and Harrison Oil went up by 35%.

On the trading floor, the numbers on the screens were all green and flashing.

Seeing the high numbers and getting lots of money from banks, Arthur Pentagon and Richard Harrison moved with ruthless, unchecked speed.

They didn't just grow their business; they swallowed everything.

Because banks wanted to be friends with Crystal Diamond's new partners, they gave the Pentagons easy loans. With that money, the Pentagons bought three other wine companies in one afternoon, took their land, closed their delivery system, and added their debts to their own company.

They also borrowed a huge amount of money against their oil business to build a giant, modern oil factory near Chevron Province.

To Beatrice, Paris, and Richard, every dollar they borrowed felt like another brick in their tall glass tower of power. They thought they could never be beaten.

Forty miles away, in the quiet, sunny private house of the Crystal Diamond family, everything was calm. No greed or noise.

Sunlight came through the glass roof and fell on the white stone floor. Chay sat at a small wooden table in the corner, reading a thick pile of secret business reports.

The door opened softly, and 13-year-old Leo walked in, holding a hot cup of tea with both hands.

The boy looked healthy again, but still a little nervous. Leo came to the desk and gently put the teacup next to Chay's left hand.

As Chay reached for the cup, Leo looked down and saw something on Chay's pants, a faint gray dirt stain near the bottom, left from when Richard threw his car keys on the ground at the country club.

Leo's jaw tightened, and he felt angry for his father.

"Dad," Leo whispered, staring at the dirt. "Miss Kim told me what happened at the club. She told me how Richard treated you like a servant in front of everyone."

Chay stopped, his fingers on the teacup. He looked up at his son's worried eyes.

"You are the great heir," Leo continued, his voice dropping into an emotional plea as he held the edge of the desk.

"Grandmother owns half the money on this continent. Why do you have to wear that driver uniform? Why do you let them spit on you and treat you like nobody? You don't have to take this, Dad."

Chay didn't answer right away.

He reached across the desk and put his big, warm hand over his son's small hand and squeezed it gently.

The dirt on his pants did not make him angry; it only made him more determined.

"A tiger does not show its teeth when jackals are just barking, Leo," Chay said in a low, calm, strong voice. "Let them bark. Let them build their tower high into the sky. The higher they build, the harder they will fall when the foundation breaks. I am exactly where I need to be."

Leo looked deep into his father's eyes, understood his plan, and slowly nodded.

***

Three nights later, the big chandeliers of the Grand Metropolitan hall were shining brightly.

The Pentagons were throwing a big, private party to celebrate their rising stocks and the coming wedding of Paris and Richard.

Every rich businessman, politician, and famous person in the province was there, wearing silk and diamonds.

Kimberly Shelton had to come for a short time because she was the public boss of Crystal Diamond Conglomerate. She had to pretend the partnership was real.

Walking three steps behind her, dressed in a simple dark suit and carrying a heavy leather briefcase full of papers, was Chay.

He kept his head slightly down to hide his face and walked quietly through the crowd of champagne glasses and fancy dresses.

As Kimberly stopped to talk politely to the trade minister, Julian Paige, who was now the main lawyer for the Pentagon-Harrison merger, walked across the floor.

Julian held a glass of champagne, his face flushed with too much imaginary success and pride.

He saw Kimberly, gave a fake smile, and then his eyes moved past her and landed on Chay in the back.

His eyes filled with contempt.

"Ah, Miss Shelton," Julian said sweetly, raising his glass to Kimberly but walking toward Chay. "What a great party tonight. Your partnership has set a new standard for the province."

"Thank you, Mr. Paige," Kimberly replied in a cold, professional voice.

Julian wasn't looking at Kimberly anymore; he was staring at Chay with a mean, cruel smile.

"Of course, I see you brought your little baggage," Julian sneered, stepping forward. "I hear drivers and errand boys are so hard to find these days. Nice of you to give the local stray a place to sleep."

Without waiting for an answer, Julian stretched out his shiny shoe and purposely pushed a waiter who was carrying a big silver tray of glasses right into Chay's path.

The waiter tripped and crashed into Chay's shoulder.

The heavy briefcase fell from Chay's hand and hit the floor with a loud crack. Papers, folders, and contracts flew everywhere in a messy heap.

A collective hush rippled through the immediate circle of watching elites.

Paris, who was standing ten feet away with Richard, turned around and let out a mocking giggle as she pointed at the scattered papers.

"Look at him!" Paris shrieked over the music. "He can't even hold a briefcase without dropping it! Clumsy rat!"

Julian smirked and stepped closer with cruel intent.

"Oops," Julian mocked, his voice dropping with venom. "Butterfingers, peasant. Why don't you get on your knees and pick those up before the grown-ups step on them?"

While that was unfolding, a huge bodyguard hired by the Harrison family, six-foot-four and almost 300 pounds, stepped forward on Julian's secret signal.

The big man grinned and lifted his heavy steel boot toward Chay's right hand, trying to crush Chay's fingers into the floor while pretending to help clean up.

The rich guests gasped. Some looked away with pleasure; others leaned in to watch the humiliation.

Chay did not shake. He did not look up.

In the split second before the boot came down, Chay's wrist made a tiny, super-fast twist, a precise move with hidden power through his elbow.

It looked like nothing more than a simple adjustment of his coat cuff. But the force went through the floor and hit the bodyguard's ankle like an iron gate slamming.

Crack.

The bodyguard's knee bent the wrong way. He lost his balance completely, and instead of crushing Chay's hand, the 300-pound giant screamed in fear.

His body fell forward like a giant tree, crashing headfirst through a heavy glass-and-iron table full of crystal bottles and flowers.

The table exploded into a million pieces of glass and wood, burying the huge guard under broken glass, blood, and champagne.

Total silence fell over the VIP area like a punch.

The band stopped playing.

Julian's eyes bulged, his champagne glass halfway to his mouth, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the bleeding guard buried in glass.

Paris stopped laughing, her mouth open, looking from the wreckage to Chay.

Chay slowly stood up, his face completely calm and cold.

He brushed a speck of dust from his pants, picked up his briefcase, and held it properly without even looking at the groaning giant at his feet.

Julian swallowed hard, his face soured, forcing an awkward, shaking laugh to save face.

"Clumsy bastard," Julian stammered, glaring at the guard. "Must have tripped over his own big feet. Serves him right for drinking on duty."

The crowd murmured nervously, and the band quickly started playing again to cover the awkward silence.

Neither Julian, Paris, nor Richard noticed a heavy, silent figure slip through the VIP crowd.

It was Patriarch Arthur Pentagon, his face pale, as the provincial Trade Minister Kane ran up to him, breathing fast and panicked.

Arthur grabbed the minister by his jacket and pulled him into the shadow of a big pillar, away from the guests.

"What is it, Kane? Can't you see we're hosting the elite of the province?" Arthur hissed.

The minister's hands were shaking so hard he could barely hold his tablet.

"Arthur... you don't understand," Kane whispered, terrified. "Ten minutes ago, the central bank filed an emergency update. Crystal Diamond... they didn't just partner with your shipping lines."

Arthur frowned, sweat forming on his neck. "What are you talking about? Our delivery contracts are solid."

"They aren't anymore," Kane gasped, eyes wide. "An hour ago, a fake company fully backed by Crystal Diamond quietly bought 100% of the private loans and mortgages of the shipping company that handles all your oil exports."

The minister leaned in and said something more devastating that made Arthur's blood freeze.

"They own your lifeline, Arthur. If they demand that money back tomorrow morning, your entire export fleet will be seized before noon."

Arthur stared at the minister, his chest tightening as fear grabbed his throat.

But across the ballroom, under the bright golden chandeliers, Arthur saw Richard and Paris laughing loudly, raising their glasses to toast their own brilliance.

Arthur forced a stiff, fake smile, pushing the warning out of his mind and waving his hand.

"Rubbish," Arthur scoffed, fixing his silk tie with a shaking hand. "Crystal Diamond is our partner. Nothing more than corporate gossip to frighten us. Now go get me a scotch; my future family is celebrating."

Arthur turned his back on the warning and walked toward the music, completely unaware that the trap had already closed, and the quiet shadow carrying the briefcase was watching every single step they took.