The Kingmaker Ex-Husband: Trillionaire in the Shadows

Nine O’Clock Sharp and the First Panic

Clarissa answered the call from her factory manager with a furrowed brow, whilst beside her, Logan Caldwell’s face suddenly turned deathly pale upon hearing the report from the finance department on the other end of his mobile. The cheerful atmosphere and mocking laughter that had just filled the Caldwell family’s terrace vanished instantly, leaving no trace.

Margaret and Brenda, still seated in their rattan chairs, looked at the two of them with puzzled expressions.

“What’s the matter, Clarissa? Why do you look so tense?” asked Margaret as she set down her coffee cup.

However, Clarissa did not respond to her mother’s question at all. The voice on the other end of the line sounded extremely panicked and hysterical, causing Clarissa’s slender hand, which was holding the mobile phone, to tremble slightly.

“M-Miss Clarissa! It’s an emergency! Our laboratory’s main computer system has just automatically locked itself at nine o’clock sharp!” shouted the factory manager, breathlessly.

“The entire Nano-Cell V7 production line has suddenly ground to a complete halt! The central server at Apex Bio-Labs has just revoked our digital licence with a red status: SUSPENDED DUE TO CHANGE OF GUARANTOR!” continued the manager, his voice on the verge of tears.

“What did you say?! Locked?!” Clarissa shrieked, her eyes wide with shock.

“That’s impossible! Isn’t the Nano-Cell V7 formula licence automatically renewed every year?! How can its status be suspended because of the asset guarantor?!” Clarissa snapped, her voice rising.

“We don’t know, Miss! But that’s not the only problem! The New Avalon Central Bank has just sent an urgent warning letter via the board’s official fax. They’ve frozen Caldwell Bio-Tech’s current credit facility worth fifty million US dollars because the primary guarantor withdrew all their bailout funds this morning!” reported the factory manager, making Clarissa’s head feel as though it had been struck by a sledgehammer.

‘Crash!’

Beside Clarissa, Logan Caldwell’s mobile phone slipped from his grasp and crashed onto the marble terrace floor, shattering the screen into a thousand pieces. Logan clutched his chest, gasping for breath; his face, which had been so haughty moments before, was now as pale and blue as a corpse’s.

“Logan! What’s wrong with you?!” Brenda shouted as she leapt up from her chair in a panic.

“M-my apartment project… and all my division’s operational accounts… have been frozen by the central bank,” Logan said in a hoarse voice that caught in his throat.

“All the confidential bailout funds that have been underpinning my credit for the past three years were suddenly withdrawn at nine o’clock this morning! If we can’t provide the cash within twenty-four hours, the bank will seize all my property projects!” cried Logan, clutching at his own hair with a dazed look in his eyes.

Margaret, upon hearing this, immediately let out a panicked scream as she looked at Clarissa.

“Clarissa! What on earth is going on?! Didn’t your company just go public and is worth three hundred million dollars?! Why have the bank and the patent holder frozen everything?!” asked Margaret in a shrill, frightened voice.

Clarissa staggered back a step until her back collided with the marble pillar on the terrace. In her mind, the cold words Damian had spoken five minutes earlier suddenly echoed back with crystal clarity: “Enjoy the last five minutes of all the illusory glory you’ve been boasting about today. Because once that time is up, not even your tears of blood will ever be able to undo what you’ve thrown away.”

“D-Damian…” Clarissa murmured, her lips trembling.

“No! It can’t be! That poor man was just a lowly laboratory courier! How could he possibly have the power to control the Central Bank and Apex Bio-Labs?!” Clarissa thought to herself, shaking her head vigorously, refusing to link this disaster to her ex-husband.

“Julian! That’s it, Julian must know what’s happening!” Clarissa exclaimed hurriedly.

With her fingers damp with cold sweat, Clarissa immediately pressed the speed-dial button for Julian Kingsley’s private number. The call only went through on the fifth ring.

“Clarissa, darling? What’s the matter, calling me this early in the morning?” came Julian’s voice, still slightly hoarse, from the other end of the line, accompanied by the rustling of silk sheets in his hotel room.

“Julian! Help me! Our factory’s in complete chaos!” cried Clarissa, her voice choked with panic.

“Apex’s Nano-Cell V7 licensing system has suddenly locked up, and the Central Bank has frozen my company’s fifty-million-dollar credit line! Didn’t you say last night that you’d lobbied the Apex board and the Central Bank to smooth everything over?!” Clarissa demanded, seeking reassurance.

In his hotel room, Julian, upon hearing the news, jumped in surprise, knocking over his teacup. However, as a cunning and masterful liar, Julian quickly controlled his tone so as not to sound panicked to Clarissa.

“C-calm down, Clarissa! Don’t panic just yet!” said Julian, lying with a tone full of confidence.

“It must just be a technical glitch in the network system at Apex’s head office! You know yourself how strict their administrative procedures are following the stock market quarter-end. Apex’s executive board holds my father’s reputation at Kingsley Capital in the highest regard!” boasted Julian loudly.

“As it happens, we’ve already scheduled a meeting this afternoon at the Starlight Diamond Auction Hall. We’ll buy the ‘Heart of Avalon’ necklace as a bribe for their director, and then I’ll personally meet with the Apex representative to get the system unlocked within minutes! Just make sure the company’s cash reserves are ready for this afternoon’s auction, understood?!” Julian ordered before hanging up.

Hearing Julian’s explanation, which sounded so convincing, Clarissa’s breathing slowly began to steady again. She wiped her sweaty brow whilst looking at Margaret and Logan with a glimmer of false hope.

“Julian said it was just an administrative technical error on Apex’s part,” said Clarissa, reassuring her family.

“This afternoon, Julian will sort everything out in person at the Starlight Auction Hall. We needn’t worry; Julian and his family will surely resolve this issue with ease,” Clarissa continued, trying to convince herself even though the bad feeling in her chest was still pounding fiercely.

Whilst panic gripped the Caldwell family home in Emerald Hills, a black Toyota saloon driven by Damian Cross cruised calmly across the Golden Bay Bridge flyover towards the centre of New Avalon.

In the driver’s seat, Kaelen Mercer drove the car at a steady speed. Via an encrypted tablet on the dashboard, Kaelen could view a graphical report of banking data showing that all of Caldwell Bio-Tech’s credit facilities had been officially and permanently frozen.

Damian sat relaxed in the back seat, gazing at the mahogany box that had belonged to the late Arthur Caldwell, which was placed beside him. He had opened the box and found an old silver-plated pocket watch and a handwritten moral will from his grandfather, urging him to remain a man of noble character wherever he might be.

“Sir, the freezing of the Central Bank’s credit facilities and the suspension of Nano-Cell V7’s licence took full effect at nine o’clock sharp,” reported Kaelen, glancing at Damian through the centre-rear-view mirror.

“Victor Vance also reported that Apex stockbrokers are standing by at the Wallcrest Stock Exchange to monitor movements in Caldwell shares as soon as the regular market opens,” continued Kaelen.

“Good,” replied Damian briefly, in a calm tone of voice.

“Let Clarissa and her family savour the sweetness of Julian Kingsley’s lie for the next few hours. The real blow will only land on their heads this afternoon at the auction house,” muttered Damian as he gazed out towards the expanse of New Avalon Bay in the distance.

But before Kaelen could respond to his employer’s words, the intelligence commander’s gaze suddenly sharpened as he looked ahead towards the seemingly deserted flyover bridge.

About three hundred metres ahead of them, a metallic black Rolls-Royce Phantom luxury saloon with a special number plate reading VL-001 was seen stopped, blocking the centre of the bridge’s carriageway. The multi-million-dollar luxury car was forcibly flanked by two black vans without number plates, which had deliberately cut across its path from the opposite direction.

The windscreen and side windows of the Rolls-Royce were severely cracked from being struck by a blunt object. On the tarmac of the bridge near the driver’s door, two neatly suited bodyguards lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious and covered in blood.

Eight men wearing black masks and dark leather jackets were seen surrounding the rear doors of the luxury car. Each of them was clutching a thick steel pipe and a military-grade tactical knife that glinted sharply in the morning sunlight.

“Sir, that is the car belonging to Miss Seraphina Vale, CEO of the Vale Global Conglomerate,” reported Kaelen in a low voice as he slowed their car down.

“The attackers are wearing iron scorpion tattoos on their necks… they are members of the Iron Fang mercenary syndicate,” continued Kaelen, identifying the enemy in a matter of seconds.

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing towards the rear door of the Rolls-Royce, which was now being forcibly pulled open from the outside.

From inside the wrecked car, a young woman with long, chestnut-brown hair and extraordinary beauty could be seen cornered in the seat. The twenty-five-year-old woman was wearing an elegant dark blue silk blazer, her gaze radiating extraordinary resolve despite the frayed edges of her clothing caused by shards of broken window glass. That woman was Seraphina Vale, the most influential and respected female businesswoman in the whole of New Avalon.

The stocky, masked leader of the attackers, with burn scars around his eyes known by the nickname Viper grinned savagely as he seized Seraphina by the arm and dragged her forcefully out onto the tarmac of the bridge.

“My dear Miss Vale, a conglomerate has paid us a fortune to ensure that your pretty little face will never set foot at this afternoon’s harbour project auction!” shouted Viper in a harsh, cruel voice.

Seraphina struggled, gazing at the masked man with a cold stare devoid of even a hint of fear.

“Take your filthy hands off me! Whoever hired you, Vale Global will ensure the entire Iron Fang syndicate is hunted down to the very depths of the earth!” Seraphina declared firmly, her authoritative voice unshaken.

Viper burst out laughing at the threat. He raised his tactical steel dagger high into the air, aiming the sharp tip of the blade directly at Seraphina’s smooth cheek as she was cornered near the car door.

“Talk all you like in hell later, Miss Spoilt!” Viper snapped as he swung his dagger down at full speed to slash Seraphina’s face.

Seraphina closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the inevitable pain.

But just a fraction of a second before the tip of the dagger’s blade touched her cheek, a black shadow darted through the morning air as fast as lightning.

‘Kreeek!’

A burly hand with smooth, dark brown skin suddenly appeared from behind Viper’s back. The five-fingered grip clamped down on Viper’s right wrist like a giant hydraulic steel vice, instantly halting the dagger’s swing mid-air, accompanied by the sound of cracking joints that shattered the silence of the bridge.