The Return Of The Hidden Dragon

3: The Boardroom War Begins

Morning light touched the glass walls of Sterling Tower, turning them silver in the London fog.

The tall building stood like a giant among the city’s skyline. Inside, everything was quiet except for the low hum of elevators and the soft clicking of heels against marble floors.

At the front desk, a young receptionist adjusted her tie and looked up from her computer. When she saw the man walking in, she almost forgot to breathe.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a simple but perfectly cut black suit. His eyes were calm, too calm, and they held something sharp behind them. 

His steps were slow, confident, unhurried, as if the whole world was waiting for him. “Good morning, sir. May I help you?” she asked, trying to sound polite.

The man stopped in front of her desk. “Alexander Sterling,” he said quietly, pulling a small silver ring from his pocket. 

The receptionist’s eyes widened when she saw the family crest carved on it, two lions and a crown.

Nobody had seen that ring in years. Everyone thought the true heir had vanished. “S-sir…” she stammered. “Mr. Sterling, I, I didn’t know you, ”

“You don’t have to,” Alex replied calmly. “Just let the board know I’m here.”

Her hands trembled as she picked up the phone. The moment she spoke his name, whispers filled the lobby. “The Young Master?”

“He’s back?”

“After all these years?”

The security guards stood straighter. Some of the older employees exchanged uneasy glances. 

Everyone in that tower knew the story, the heir who disappeared after his father’s death. The one who walked away from billions. Now he was back.

Upstairs, on the 60th floor, the board meeting had already started. Twelve directors sat around a large table made of dark wood, the city spread out like a painting behind them.

At the head of the table sat Harold Sterling, Alex’s uncle, gray hair slicked back, sharp suit, and eyes that looked friendly but were always calculating.

Harold was in the middle of his speech. “Under my leadership,” he said proudly, “Sterling Group has seen a five percent increase in profits this quarter. The board should be proud, ”

The door opened. The room went still. Alex walked in slowly. His black coat brushed against the polished floor, and his eyes scanned the room like a shadow moving through light.

Harold’s voice trailed off. “Alex…” He smiled faintly. “Well, this is a surprise.”

Alex said nothing at first. He walked to the table, placed his hands on the cool wood, and looked at every man and woman sitting there.

“It’s been a while,” he said quietly. “Didn’t realize you were holding meetings in my company without me.”

Murmurs spread. One director cleared his throat nervously. “Mr. Sterling, we were under the impression, ”

“That I was gone?” Alex’s lips twitched. “I was. Not anymore.”

Harold leaned back in his chair, pretending to stay calm. “Nephew, you left this place years ago. You gave up your rights. You walked away.”

Alex’s eyes flicked to him. “No. I walked away to see who would betray me first.”

The room went quiet again. The air felt heavy. Alex pulled a folder from his jacket and tossed it onto the table. Sheets of paper spilled out, contracts, transfer forms, bank statements.

“Half of Father’s old assets are missing,” Alex said. “Moved through fake subsidiaries under your name.”

Harold’s smile tightened. “You’re mistaken.”

“Am I?” Alex picked up one paper and read it aloud. “Silvercrest Holdings, owned by a shell company based in the Cayman Islands. Care to explain why Sterling funds are flowing there?”

One of the directors coughed. Another whispered something to the man beside him. Harold’s jaw clenched. “You’ve grown bold, Alex.”

“Bold enough to take back what’s mine,” Alex said softly.

He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thin tablet. A flick of his finger brought up a new document, his name, his signature, legal seals, and new voting agreements.

“As of this morning,” he said, “the controlling shares of Sterling Group return to me. The board majority has already signed.”

The directors froze. Several looked down at the table, ashamed or afraid. Harold’s eyes went dark. “Who gave you the authority?”

The doors opened again. Lady Ivy stepped in, calm as ever, her black dress flowing behind her. She held a folder and a faint smile. “I did,” she said. “And so did they.”

Three senior partners followed her in, placing signed documents on the table. Harold’s voice cracked with anger. “You traitors!”

“No,” Ivy said quietly. “We’re loyal. To the rightful heir.”

Alex looked at his uncle. “You taught me power is about control. So I learned to control the only thing that matters, loyalty.”

He turned to the directors. “We’ll continue the meeting. Next topic, the proposed merger with Morgan Enterprises.”

The room stiffened. Everyone knew that was Victoria Morgan’s company, his ex-wife.

Harold smirked faintly. “A smart partnership. Profitable. Unless you want to make this personal.”

Alex’s gaze hardened. “Cancel it.”

The word hung in the air like thunder. “C-Cancel it?” one director repeated.

“Immediately,” Alex said. “All funding, marketing, and support to Morgan Enterprises are suspended. I don’t want the Sterling name tied to that brand.”

Harold slammed his hand on the table. “You’ll ruin the company’s image!”

“No,” Alex said calmly. “I’ll protect it. And I’ll start by cutting off everything rotten.”

The directors looked at one another, unsure whether to speak. The silence stretched until Harold stood, face red with anger. “You think you can come in here and undo years of work?”

Alex didn’t move. “I don’t think, Uncle. I decide.”

Harold’s hand curled into a fist. “You’re making enemies you can’t handle.”

“Then they should learn to handle me,” Alex said, stepping closer. His voice was low but steady. “You stole from my father. You lied to me. Now it’s time to pay.”

The tension was thick enough to choke on. Nobody dared to breathe.

Finally, Harold laughed, though it sounded hollow. “You’re still that boy who ran from responsibility.”

Alex leaned close, his words quiet but sharp. “Maybe. But I came back as the man who’ll bury anyone who mocks his name.”

He turned to the rest of the board. “Meeting adjourned.”

As the directors filed out, murmuring in disbelief, Harold remained seated, his knuckles white against the table. “This isn’t over, Alex,” he hissed. “I built this empire while you hid behind a woman.”

Alex paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “Then watch closely, Uncle,” he said. “You’re about to see how a man rebuilds an empire, by destroying everyone who betrayed him.”

He left without another word. Outside the building, the wind was cold and sharp. Reporters gathered near the gates, shouting questions. Cameras flashed.

Alex ignored them, walking past like a shadow. His car door opened, and he stepped inside.

Lady Ivy sat beside him, her eyes on his face. “You’ve declared war,” she said softly.

Alex looked out at the city. “No,” he said. “War was declared the moment they broke my trust.”

The car moved forward, disappearing into the London mist, but across town, in a glass office overlooking the Thames, Victoria Morgan read the morning headlines:

“Sterling Group Cuts Ties with Morgan Enterprises, Shock Decision by Heir Alexander Sterling.”

Her hand froze on the page. The color drained from her face. “Alex… what are you doing?” she whispered.

Far away, in the back of the car, Alex’s phone buzzed once. He glanced at the screen, her name flashing. He smiled faintly, then pressed “Ignore.”

Outside, thunder rolled. The storm had begun.