The Reed Innovations Gala was the kind of event people dressed to impress for. Flashing lights. Champagne glasses. Cameras catching every smile.
Derick stayed close but not too close. He’d learned that was safer. He moved through the crowd quietly. He never liked these events; they belonged to Petrina. So tonight, as always, he just wanted to be beside her, proud and invisible. He didn’t mind. He’d told himself this was her moment. She stood near the entrance greeting guests, laughing with Brian Stone. Their closeness made something inside him tick, but he said nothing. He would rather be silent and keep the peace. When Petrina finally turned and saw him, her smile thinned. “You came,” she said. “I promised I would,” he replied. From the balcony above the main hall, the city shimmered behind glass. A jazz band played. Waiters floated past with trays of wine. “Mr. Sekwiga, can I get a photo of you and Mrs. Sekwiga?” a reporter asked. Petrina turned to the reporter, smile fading for half a second. “Maybe later,” she said quickly. The reporter nodded and drifted away. Derick looked at her. “You could’ve said yes.” “Derick, please,” she murmured, eyes scanning the room. “Tonight’s important. Let’s not make it awkward.” He blinked once. “What’s awkward about it?.” Before she could answer, her father, Hulu Duck, appeared. “Good, you’re here. You can sit toward the back,” he said curtly. “We’ll handle the real business up front.” Derrick simply nodded. None of this treatment was worth his reaction. He turned back to tell Petrina he’d be waiting for her, but was gone again, shaking hands, laughing a little too brightly with investors, Brian back at her side. He watched from a distance, that small ache in his chest growing heavier. The speeches began after dinner. The hall dimmed to gold and silver lights as a host stepped onto the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the visionary behind Reed Innovations, Mrs. Petrina Sekwiga!” Applause filled the room. She walked up gracefully, poised, glowing under the spotlight. Derick clapped too, a quiet, proud rhythm. Then her father joined her onstage. Hulu Duck’s smile looked generous from afar, but Derick knew better. “Before we celebrate,” Hulu said into the mic, “we must address a…..very serious matter.” The music faded. Conversations still. Derick straightened slowly. Hulu continued, voice smooth but sharp. “It has come to our attention that funds from Reed Innovations have been….misdirected. And evidence suggests someone very close to this company has been involved.” A murmur rippled through the crowd. Gasps rolled through the room. Petrina stood beside her father, face hard. Brian lingered a few steps away, head bowed as if regretful. But on his lips lay the dirtiest grin. Hulu gestured. “Show them.” A projector flickered on. Photos appeared across the giant screen: Derick sitting with Lily in a café, leaning toward her, papers between them, captured from an angle that twisted the story. Another photo: a bank transfer screenshot. His name was highlighted. Whispers turned into gasps. Derick froze. He knew the documents; they were for Titan Holdings, not Reed Innovations. But explaining that meant revealing everything he’d spent years hiding. Petrina’s voice cut through the silence, firm and loud. “Tell me it’s not true, Derick.” “It isn’t,” he said quietly. “Those aren’t what they look like. I never touched your accounts,” he said. “You know me better than that.” She shook her head. “You lied to me. You used my company’s money. All this time, while I was defending you.” “I didn’t.” he said quietly. “Then explain the money,” Hulu snapped. “Explain these meetings. Explain why this young lady’s name shows up in every single transaction.” Derick’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t. Not without tearing down every layer of secrecy that kept Titan Holdings invisible. “Petrina,” he said, meeting her eyes, “I can’t explain everything here. But I swear, I’ve never—” Her father stepped forward. “Enough! You’ve embarrassed this family. Leave now before I have security throw you out.” Derick stayed still. “Hulu, I haven’t done anything wrong.” Hulu’s expression hardened. “If you don’t leave, I’ll have you arrested for theft, embezzlement and fraud.” The words hung heavy in the air. Charlotte Bush, standing at the table nearby, rose quickly. “Petrina, wait. This doesn’t feel right. I already told you to double-check those files, before—” “Charlotte, please,” Petrina snapped, her composure cracking. “I can’t listen to excuses right now, I’m done defending him.” Hulu’s tone turned to mockery now. “You’ve lived off my daughter long enough. You think we don’t see it? Using her company’s money, humiliating this family in front of every investor—” But Derrick stayed silent. His calm made Hulu angrier. Someone from the crowd muttered, “Wasn’t he just a mid project coordinator?” Another voice laughed softly. Petrina turned back toward him, tears bright in her eyes. “You’re worthless, Derick. Seven years of my life, gone. I built everything from scratch while you pretended to play the loyal husband, and this is what you were?” He stepped forward once, voice low. “I never betrayed you.” She shook her head, eyes glassy. “Then prove it.” He hesitated. The truth sat heavy on his tongue, that every cent, every deal, every success of hers came from him. That Titan Holdings was his empire. But revealing it would undo everything he’d built in silence. So he said nothing. Her silence turned to fury. “You can’t even defend yourself.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. No words would change anything. It already looked like a planned event. Nothing he said would change anything and he didn’t plan on doing so. Someone handed her a folder, Brian, standing just offstage. Far enough to not gain any attention but he was deep in the center of it all. Petrina didn’t even glance at him as she took the folder. “Sign them,” she whispered to Derrick. “If there’s any respect left between us, don’t make a scene.” Derick looked down at the papers. The word divorce blurred for a moment. The room had gone silent again, every whisper dying to hear what he would do. “You’re sure?” Derrick asked. “I’m sure,” she said. “Before you humiliate me, my family or company any further.” The hall was silent. Every camera pointed at them. He took the pen, signed his name slowly, and set it back on the podium. “I hope the people telling you these lies will still be here when the truth comes out,” he said quietly. Petrina flinched, but she didn’t answer. Hulu signaled to the guards. “Show him out.” Derick shook his head. “No need.” He straightened his jacket, looked once more at Petrina, then at Charlotte. “Be there for her when she starts regretting it all.” He murmured. Petrina blinked fast, holding her composure. “Goodbye, Derick.” He walked down the aisle between tables. Just then James Rothwell, a rival company CEO, half drunk, laughed from a nearby table. “So the famous husband is just a fraud after all. No wonder he was so humble!” He mocked. Parker Honky joined, a vicious corporate raider, joined in, his voice booming. “Imagine living off your wife’s company and still stealing from it. Pathetic.” A few guests murmured in agreement. Derick’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at them. He continued walking towards the exit. No one stopped him. Even the music had died. Only the echo of his footsteps filled the hall until the doors closed behind him. Once he was outside, the cold air met his face. The city lights blurred in the distance. And for the first time in years, there was no need to pretend. He exhaled once, steady and final, and walked into the night.Latest Chapter
Chapter 167: Cut The Link With Kendi!!!
Bypassing Mayfair, the engine noise from the African scrubland cut out for a second, replaced by the hollow, metallic groan of a chassis being twisted to its absolute limit. In the quiet cab of the saloon, the sound was intimate, almost suffocating."She's bottoming out," Jackson whispered. His eyes remained locked on the telemetry. "The terrain profile doesn't match the satellite imagery Westbrook submitted to the high court. They logged this entire quadrant as a desertification zone.""Because dry land carries no ecological indemnity," Derick said. He guided the silver saloon into the shadow of the Palace of Westminster. The gothic spires looked black against the bruising sky. "If there’s no water on the books, there's no crime in poisoning it with the runoff from the gold tailings. It’s perfect corporate arithmetic."On the dashboard console, Kendi’s voice returned, tighter now, punctuated by the sharp crack of an overstressed leaf spring."Derick? If you're receiving this, the loc
Chapter 166: Bypassing Mayfair
The rain on Grosvenor Square had turned into a fine, isotropic mist by the time the silver saloon cleared the security barrier, its tires spitting grit against the brickwork of the embassy lane. Derick kept the headlights dipped. London was waking up in fragments—milk floats, the first red double-deckers grinding toward Marble Arch, and the pale, sodium glow of streetlamps reflecting off windows that had been dark since the Blitz. Beside him, Jackson didn't move. The laptop screen was a pale blue mask across his face, throwing the hollows of his cheeks into sharp relief. His thumbs remained hooked over the chassis, frozen in the posture of a man who had spent three hours defusing a bomb only to realize he was still holding the detonator. "The London mirror just dropped six packets," Jackson said. His voice was flat, drained of the adrenaline that had carried them through the basement descent. "Some kind of deep-packet inspection. It’s not the compliance committee. It’s too fast for
Chapter 165: The Public Server
The wet asphalt of Grosvenor Square dissolved behind them as Jackson stepped into the waiting elevator, his fingers already hammering at the glass screen of his tablet. The lift hummed, a low-frequency vibration that rattled the brass handrails as they began their descent toward the underground parking level."The regional office in Mombasa just flagged Vance’s credentials," Jackson said, his eyes reflecting the sharp blue glare of the interface. "The automated system picked up the concurrent login from London. We have exactly four minutes before the security protocol locks the session and forces a manual override.""Then don't format the text from scratch," Derick said, his voice cutting through the mechanical hum of the elevator. "Pull the pre-cached Markdown files from the staging server. Strip the metadata, bypass the regional translation layer, and dump the raw Appendix C directly into the root directory. If the ministries want to read it, they can use Google Translate.""That le
Chapter 164: Mombasa
Jackson’s fingers flew across the tablet screen, the blue light casting sharp, angular shadows over his face. "The upload protocol requires three separate administrative keys, Derick. I have mine, and you have yours. But we need a proxy signature from the regional operations office in Mombasa to bypass the standard forty-eight-hour quarantine.""Use Vance’s credentials," Derick said without turning from the window. Below, a black Mercedes sedan slid smoothly away from the curb, its taillights bleeding red streaks across the wet asphalt. Westbrook’s exit. "He left his token active on the secure subnet when he rushed out. He was too busy hiding his pen to clear his cache.""That’s a compliance violation. If the board audits the keystrokes—""If we don't have the text on the public server by midnight, there won't be a board left to audit us," Derick interrupted. His voice was level, stripped of the adrenaline that usually followed a boardroom coup. He reached into his pocket, his fingers
Chapter 163: Grosvenor Square
The door of the boardroom clicked closed with a heavy, pressurized sigh that seemed to vacuum the remaining oxygen from the room. Westbrook was the first out, his briefcase gripped so tightly his knuckles showed white through his artificial tan. Vance trailed him like a shadow detached from its owner, still frantically pocketing his pen.Derick remained in his chair, his hands flat against the cool, ancient oak of the shipyard table. The room emptied in ripples until only he, Jackson, and Haraldsen remained. The Chairman was slow in his movements now, the sudden authority he had wielded during the roll call dissolving back into the tired posture of an aging bureaucrat.With a deliberate, mechanical precision, Haraldsen reached into his breast pocket. He did not pull out a phone or a pair of spectacles. Instead, he withdrew a small, tarnished silver object and set it gently on the brass plate where his gavel had rested moments before.It was an antique water meter key, its T-bar worn s
Chapter 162: The Noon Division
The street outside the Connaught felt like a cold slate wiped clean by the drizzle. Derick walked fast, his coat unbuttoned, letting the damp London air cut through the lingering heat of the dining room. Jackson kept half a pace behind him, his shoes clicking rhythmically against the wet pavement of Carlos Place."Westbrook’s going to whip the second-tier directors," Jackson said, his voice low as they rounded the corner toward Grosvenor Square. "He’s already calling Henderson and Vance. If he loses Haraldsen on the audit trigger, he’ll try to choke the funding at the committee stage.""Let him call them," Derick said. "Henderson moves with the tide. Vance moves with Henderson. If Haraldsen votes to publish, the center holds.""And if Haraldsen’s nod was just courtesy?" Jackson asked. "He’s a statistician, Derick. He likes the weight of an argument, but he lives in the shadow of the regulatory board. He knows exactly how much noise an extraordinary audit makes."Derick stopped at the
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