2025-07-07 03:50:00The skyline of New Orleans glimmered under a sickly dusk; the city’s pulse uneven. Once, the name Gordonis lit up the city like gospel. Now it clung like a curse to the crumbling towers of Gordonis Corporation.
Inside the top floor of the glass monolith that housed the company, Tom Gordonis sat stiff in a leather chair far too big for his shrinking confidence. The marble desk before him was strewn with newspapers and reports: Financial Disaster Looms for Gordonis Corp, Once Golden Empire Bleeds Out Investors, Whispers of Corruption and Collapse.
He rubbed his temples, the soft sound of classical music from the corner radio failing to soothe the growing panic under his skin.
“Cut the music,” he snapped.
The assistant outside the door heard it and killed the soft Beethoven. Silence swallowed the office, giving room for the anxiety to breathe louder.
The last six years had been a storm.
He had clawed his way to the top, stolen it from Andre, and now it was slipping through his fingers. Every step forward brought two collapses. Whispers in boardrooms. Emails gone unanswered. Media digging up ghosts.
The ghost of Andre Gordonis still haunted the building.
The ghost of a brother he betrayed.
The door opened with a soft click. Angela White stepped inside, heels echoing across the polished floor like gavel strikes.
She didn’t sit.
“I’ve received word,” she said, always direct. “They smell blood. Your competitors. The vultures are circling.”
Tom’s jaw clenched. “I need numbers. Not riddles.”
“You want numbers? Here.” She dropped a file onto his desk. “In the last four months, six investors have pulled out. Three mergers failed. And now there are rumors of an anonymous group buying shares behind your back.”
Tom’s eyes scanned the file. “Who?”
Angela folded her arms. “That’s the problem. No one knows. Just that the money’s clean, fast, and aggressive. And today... they reached out.”
Tom’s gaze snapped to her.
“An offer?”
She nodded. “An investment proposal. Enough to buy you time. Maybe even turn this around.”
He leaned forward. “Who’s behind it?”
She hesitated.
“They call him Don Alaric.”
The name sliced through the air like a blade.
Tom froze. “What kind of name is that?”
“The kind that comes from nowhere,” Angela said. “There are no records. No social security. No photos. Just... a trail of perfectly timed moves. He’s made a fortune overseas. Russian mining, Gulf logistics, Central American crypto vaults.”
“And he wants us?” Tom asked, disbelief lacing his voice.
“He’s not after the company,” she said slowly. “He wants access. Prestige. A base in America. Your empire…what’s left of it….gives him that.”
Tom leaned back, calculating. “And the catch?”
Angela opened another folder. “One unusual condition.”
She slid the paper to him.
Tom read it, then frowned.
“He wants Hermosa?”
Angela gave a slow nod. “As his personal liaison. She’ll report directly to him.”
Tom felt the first pang of warning in his gut. Hermosa had been quiet for years, loyal, buried in mid-level management roles after the trial. She’d distanced herself from it all, but this could drag her back into the spotlight.
“He knows about her?” he asked.
Angela’s lips twitched faintly. “Maybe. Maybe more than we think.”
Tom’s fingers tightened around the edge of the paper. “This smells like trouble.”
“It smells like salvation,” Angela countered. “Unless you have another ghost billionaire in your pocket, I suggest we play his game.”
Tom hesitated... then sighed, the weight of six years of deception pressing down like iron.
“Fine,” he murmured. “Set the meeting.”
---
It was held after midnight, in a private underground vault beneath the French Quarter. No cameras. No media. Just Tom, Angela, and four silent guards standing by.
The room was empty save for a long black table and two chairs.
Tom paced nervously.
Then, footsteps.
Soft. Purposeful.
He turned as the door opened and a man entered, flanked by two masked security agents.
Tall. Dressed in a midnight three-piece suit tailored with violent precision. Leather gloves. A black velvet mask covered the upper half of his face, casting sharp shadows over a mouth that neither smiled nor frowned. His presence was a weapon.
Tom’s throat dried.
“Mr. Gordonis,” the man said, his voice low, controlled, like it had been forged in embers.
“I… You must be Don Alaric,” Tom managed, forcing composure.
Don Alaric gave a shallow nod. “Let’s discuss business.”
He sat. The guards never left his side.
Angela placed the contract on the table. “The terms are clear. A 27% stake in Gordonis Corp in exchange for liquid capital, PR recovery, and foreign investor connections.”
Tom slid the documents forward. “And you’ll keep the company afloat?”
Don Alaric tapped the table once. “I’ll rebuild it. If you agree to my one condition.”
He already knew the answer, but he waited like a predator stalking compliance.
Tom swallowed hard. “Hermosa Rodriguez. She’ll report to you?”
Alaric didn’t blink. “She’ll represent you. If you still want your company to have a future.”
There was no room for discussion.
The mask shifted slightly as if daring Tom to refuse.
Tom stared at the black ink of the signature line. His pen hovered, then dropped. A flourish later, the deal was signed.
“Done,” he said quietly.
Don Alaric stood.
“Excellent,” he said, then turned toward the door. “My liaison begins tomorrow.”
--
The knock on the door was brisk.
Hermosa Rodriguez looked up from her reports, her heart skipping. She hadn’t seen Tom in weeks. Not since the last merger disaster.
When he entered, his expression was tight. Not angry. Not tired. Just… burdened.
“We’re out of time,” he said. “But someone just bought us more.”
She stood. “What are you talking about?”
“An investor,” Tom said. “He’s agreed to rescue us. Don Alaric.”
She frowned. “Never heard of him.”
“No one has,” he replied grimly. “He’s rich, elusive, and brilliant. And he wants you.”
Hermosa’s breath caught. “What?”
“He asked for you by name. Said he’d only sign if you acted as his liaison.”
Hermosa’s face went pale. “Why me?”
Tom paused, just a flicker. “Maybe because of your trial testimony. Maybe because you know how we operate. Or maybe he just wants someone… loyal.”
Hermosa bristled.
“You think I wanted any of what happened back then?” she asked.
Tom raised a hand. “This isn’t about the past. It’s about survival. You’re assigned to our new investor. Don’t screw this up.”
She swallowed the protest rising in her throat.
“Fine,” she said quietly. “When do I meet him?”
Tom’s eyes lingered on hers for a second too long.
“He’s already on his way.”
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Chapter 23 — Business and Blood
Angela pushed open the door to Tom’s house without bothering to knock. The place reeked of whiskey and frustration. She found him in the living room, slouched on the couch, a half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand, and the television playing some sports channel neither of them cared about.She didn’t bother with pleasantries. Instead, she stormed across the room and slammed her hand against the coffee table with a loud thud.“What makes you think you can pull down Don Alaric?” she snapped.Tom didn’t flinch. He took a slow sip from his glass and looked at her from beneath his furrowed brow. “Watch your tone, Angela,” he said coldly. “And your actions. I’m not in the mood today.”Angela crossed her arms and sneered. “Neither am I.”For a moment, silence simmered between them like a kettle on the verge of boiling over.Tom sat up slowly, rolling his neck like he was trying to stretch out the weight of his current reality. “How did your meeting go?” he asked. “With the woman I sent you
Chapter 22: A little romance
The clock on the wall ticked past noon, but Hermosa hadn’t moved from her bed. The curtains were drawn halfway, letting in just enough light to keep the room from drowning in gloom. Her throat still felt sore, and her body ached faintly with the remnants of fever. She had called the office that morning, her voice hoarse, informing them she wouldn’t be coming in due to illness. She hadn’t expected a response, certainly not the kind that came knocking at her door now.A soft knock interrupted her daze.“Yes?” she called out, her voice rasping slightly.One of the maids entered, balancing a medium-sized brown box, a bouquet of fresh tulips and daisies, and a smaller gift-wrapped box that unmistakably carried the scent of rich, imported chocolate.“These just arrived for you, Miss Hermosa,” the maid said with a curious smile, placing the items on her bed.Hermosa blinked in surprise. The packaging was elegant and thoughtful. She reached first for the card attached to the bouquet, her fing
Chapter 21 – Shifting Shadows
Hermosa sat at the edge of her bed, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, her phone clenched in her hand like a lifeline she didn’t know how to cut.A soft knock tapped against the door before Bella stepped in, arms crossed, a knowing look in her eyes.“You called him last night,” Bella said plainly, walking over and sitting beside her. “I saw your call log when I picked up your phone to turn off your alarm.”Hermosa stiffened, her jaw tightening. “So, you’re checking my call logs now?”Bella raised her hands innocently. “I wasn’t snooping. I just saw it.”Hermosa looked away. “It’s not a big deal.”Bella gave a small laugh and pulled Hermosa into a side hug. “It is. And it’s okay. I know why you called him.”Hermosa didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the floor.Bella continued gently, “He reminds you of Andre.”Hermosa flinched but didn’t deny it.“But they’re not the same,” Bella said, tightening her grip around her friend. “You need to get that into your head. Andre’s gone. You have
Chapter 20 – Night Watch
The soft glow from Bella’s laptop cast shifting shadows across the walls of the control room. Hermosa leaned in toward the CCTV monitors, her heart racing as the grainy images flickered. “There,” she whispered, pointing at a dark silhouette just beyond the iron gate.On screen, a figure stood still, head tilted as if listening. Then the person started gliding sideways, pacing slowly back and forth. Rain earlier that evening had dampened the driveway, puddles glistened in the low lamplight.Hermosa’s chest tightened. “Who is that?” she murmured.Bella closed the laptop but kept her eyes fixed on the screen. “Calm down. It’s a guard shift, someone checking the perimeter. Probably late.”Hermosa shook her head, frowning. “It’s too one-pointed. Someone staying in one spot, watching the gate.”Bella's phone buzzed. She checked the time. “Okay. I’ll go check the back. You go upstairs. Stay with your father.”Hermosa reached for her phone on the table. Heat tingled through her fingers. She h
Chapter 19 – Shadows of Truth
The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of Don Alaric’s study, casting golden streaks across the polished mahogany floor. The scent of cigars lingered in the air, faint but unmistakable. Valerie stood by the bar cart, pouring herself a glass of sparkling water, while Don Alaric sat behind his desk, a contemplative look etched onto his face.She glanced at him as she took a sip. “You didn’t eat much at lunch,” she said. “That’s rare for you.”“I wasn’t hungry,” he replied flatly, his eyes focused on a small photograph on his desk, a weathered image of a young woman holding a baby. Hermosa and Andre Jr., from years ago.Valerie set her glass down. “She’s getting to you, isn’t she?”Alaric didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly. “She asked him to take off the mask.”Valerie raised a brow. “You knew she would. She was bound to get curious.”There was a knock at the door.“Come in,” Alaric called.The door creaked open, and the man who had
Chapter 18 – Shadows and Suspicions
Bella stepped out of her car, her eyes scanning the quiet estate. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the driveway, and the air was still, almost too still. She clutched her handbag tightly as she made her way to the front door, her heels clicking softly against the stones.Hermosa opened the door before Bella could even knock. Her face was pale, her eyes guarded, and there was a tension in her shoulders that immediately set Bella on edge.“You look like hell,” Bella said gently, stepping inside.“I feel worse,” Hermosa replied. “Come in.”They moved into the sitting room. Hermosa offered tea, but Bella declined, settling on the velvet couch instead.“I came early because I couldn’t sleep,” Bella admitted. “Too much racing through my mind. I haven’t stopped thinking about our last conversation... about Andre. About the evidence. Everything is finally beginning to make sense. I feel like we’re this close.” She pinched two fingers together.Hermosa didn’t respond immediately.
