The Rise of John Raymond

Chapter 41: The Beginning of the Web

The boardroom was still buzzing with half-muted conversations and rustling papers. The official meeting was over, but it was only the beginning of something far more intricate.

As was customary, smaller cliques began to splinter off, heading to their favorite restaurants and lounges. The real decisions—the kind made in whispers and wine-stained promises—were always done afterward. That was where true power moved: not in boardrooms, but in private booths and candlelit corners.

Among them was Emily. The quiet one. She always sat at the back, barely spoke unless necessary, and her expressions were blank slates. You could pass her in a hallway and forget her by the next turn. That was her strength. That was her shield.

But Emily wasn’t innocent—far from it.

She was a wolf dressed so well in sheep's clothing that only someone equally dark could see her for what she was. That someone was Agnes.

Agnes had been watching her for months. She hadn’t always suspected her, but the pieces fell together one night at a function she nearly didn’t attend.

The invitation to the Bulgarian President’s daughter’s wedding had been one of those once-in-a-lifetime political gestures—a must-attend event for anyone who mattered. Agnes had nearly skipped it due to a clashing international conference. But fate, as always, had a different script.

She arrived late. The event was glittering in gold and guarded with layers of security. But nothing would prepare her for the scene that stopped her cold: Emily.

But this Emily wasn’t the invisible executive with soft beige tones and a voice like a dull whisper. This Emily looked like a different species altogether. She wore a red velvet dress that hugged her figure like sin, bold red lipstick, heavy eye makeup, and a diamond choker that glinted like it was forged in fire.

She looked dangerous. Powerful. Seductive.

If it hadn't been for her eyes—those sky-blue, unnaturally piercing eyes—Agnes wouldn't have believed it was her.

Agnes had to remind herself to breathe. She was so caught up staring that she almost forgot why she was there, until her assistant tugged gently on her arm.

“Ma’am, the function is almost over. Let's go,” the girl whispered.

Snapping back to reality, Agnes nodded and walked in. But her curiosity had been lit—and she never let a mystery go unsolved.

Inside, the hall was flooded with elites—prime ministers, governors, ambassadors, billionaires. The President of Bulgaria played host like a seasoned king, and his daughter looked like a porcelain doll in lace.

Agnes made her rounds. She handed over a lavish gift to the president and sealed it with an offer—a corporate expansion that would enrich his country’s coal export tenfold. But what he said next hit her like an unexpected gunshot.

“A lovely lady was here earlier,” the president said, sipping his drink with a grin. “Her name’s Emily. Said you two work together for the Raymond Empire. She made me an offer—one I couldn’t refuse. Beautiful girl, clever too. My lawyers and I signed it already.”

Agnes’s lips parted in disbelief.

Emily? Offering a deal on behalf of Raymond? Without her knowledge?

The president, catching her shift in expression, grew uneasy. He handed her a copy of the signed agreement. “Take a look. She seemed credible, but if something’s wrong, tell me.”

Agnes took the file. At first glance, it seemed legitimate. Standard clauses, formal language, Raymond’s name printed at the top. But then—there it was. A tiny, elegant clause, almost invisible unless you knew what to look for:

“All transactions through this agreement will render 10% of proceeds payable to a third-party entity as per clause X.”

That clause changed everything. Ten percent—missing from Raymond’s records. An invisible siphon.

She didn’t react. Not yet. She simply smiled, nodded, and said everything looked perfect. But her mind was already running.

The president looked relieved. So did his lawyer.

But Agnes wasn’t.

As the function ended and guests began to leave, Agnes remained in her seat, her eyes frozen on that clause. Emily had just pulled off a billion-dollar move in front of world leaders—and no one had noticed.

It was brilliant. And reckless.

Agnes had her own secrets too. She was no saint. But this—this was something else. This was betrayal. And betrayal within the Raymond empire came with only one punishment.

Death.

Still, Agnes didn’t sound the alarm. No. This was an opportunity.

She had something better than revenge.

Power.

It took five months of silence. Five months of observation. Waiting.

Then, she made her move.

She knew where Emily would be that evening—glammed up, dressed like the queen of the underworld. It wasn’t hard to “accidentally” bump into her.

The look on Emily’s face said it all.

She knew.

She had walked into her own snare.

And there was no way out.

The silence between them crackled like a storm cloud. But instead of turning her in, Agnes handed her a small card. No words. Just an address. A time.

Emily didn’t speak. She just took the card and left.

She knew she had to show up.

If she didn’t, Agnes could end her.

When the day came, Emily walked into the luxury café alone. The place was deserted, elegant, and silent. Agnes was already seated at a table, sipping coffee and nibbling a croissant, looking like she owned the whole damn world.

Emily scanned the place. “Do you like it here?” Agnes asked lightly. “I’m sure it shows you how important you are now.”

Emily didn’t flinch. She walked straight to the table and poured herself a glass of wine. “Let’s cut the bullshit. We’re both busy women.”

Agnes laughed, a slow, sarcastic laugh. “I love this fierceness. Bite me, love.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Oh no,” Agnes said, crossing her legs. “I’ll make you an offer.”

“Shoot.”

“I’ve done my research, and my oh my, you’ve made a lot of money, Emily. Meanwhile, I’ve been stuck playing the loyal puppet.”

Emily didn’t reply. Her lips twitched with irritation.

“Cut the crap, Agnes. What do you want?”

“Five percent profit on every deal you touch.”

Emily raised an eyebrow and gave a half-laugh. “Greedy. I’ll offer three.”

Agnes didn’t blink. “This entire place is under surveillance. You just admitted to the deals. I can walk out of here and hand that recording over. And you know what that means.”

Emily stiffened. She had played games with fire before—but Agnes was fire.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Five percent. Is that what you want?”

“Glad we agree.” Agnes reached into her bag and pulled out a thin folder. “Sign here. And here. I like things legal. And consensual.”

Emily signed. Slowly. Carefully.

Then she stood, slid the pen back into its holder, and looked Agnes dead in the eyes.

“You are the real devil.”

Agnes smiled. “Thanks, hon.”

She blew a kiss at her as Emily walked away.

And just like that… the partnership was born.

Two wolves. One web.