The Swapped Ceo

Night blanketed the city in shadow, only broken by the rhythmic flash of red emergency lights pulsing against the rain-slicked windows of Tianhu Corporation’s headquarters.

Alarms wailed. Loud. Piercing. Like a war cry tearing through the silence of the after-hours.

Inside the towering skyscraper, a figure sprinted through the corridors—Liam. His black suit was disheveled, shirt partially unbuttoned and sticking to his skin with sweat. His once-polished shoes now slammed against the marble floors, echoing with desperation.

In his hand was a pen—or so it looked. But beneath its sleek exterior, it housed something far more valuable: a USB drive containing secrets that powerful people had killed to protect.

Liam (breathing heavily, muttering):

"I knew it… I freaking knew it. I should’ve stayed out of this mess."

Shouts rose behind him.

"He's heading for the CEO’s office!"

"Don’t let him upload it—GO!"

His legs burned, lungs heaving as he pushed through the pain and rounded a corner.

Liam (sarcastic and bitter):

"Just one job, Liam. Just one favor for a wrinkled old tycoon in a palace. Could’ve been done in a week, she said. 'You’re just delivering something,' she said. Hah… stupid me."

He slammed into the stairwell door, forcing it open and bolting upward, two steps at a time. The rain pounded against the windows beside him, a chaotic percussion matching the hammering in his chest.

His mind raced, faster than his feet.

I was fine before this. Had my delivery van, my ramen dinners, my quiet little life where nobody gave a damn if I lived or died. And now look at me… running through a skyscraper with half of Satan’s army behind me because I agreed to help one damn rich lady.

His lips curled into a grim smile.

Why’d I even say yes? Because of that stupid offer? That stack of cash I never even touched? Or maybe… maybe I just wanted to prove something. Maybe I thought I could be more than the nobody I always was.

He reached the top floor and burst into the CEO’s private office, slamming the heavy door shut behind him and dragging a metal chair under the handle. He stumbled toward the grand desk, eyes locking on the embedded console.

No hesitation.

He popped the cap off the pen, exposing the USB, and plugged it into the port.

Beep.

Uploading… 14%… 37%… 58%…

The banging started behind him. The goons had caught up. The door shuddered violently under their weight.

Liam (muttering):

"Just get the data out. That’s all. Get it out before they drag your sorry ass to whatever dungeon rich people use these days."

75%… 86%…

His heart thudded louder than the alarms. Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes. The screen glowed.

92%… 96%…

BANG!

The door flew open. Armed men poured in like a wave. Liam didn’t even flinch. He just raised his hands in a half-hearted shrug as they tackled him to the floor.

They pinned him, yanked the USB from the computer—too late.

The screen blinked: "TRANSFER COMPLETE. SENT TO SECURE SERVER."

From behind the wall of suited guards, a familiar and infuriating voice sounded.

David Klein.

Calm. Confident. Cruel.

He stepped into the office like he owned the world, a pistol held casually at his side. His polished shoes clicked against the tile as he approached the restrained Liam.

David (smirking):

"You tried. I’ll give you that. But in the end, rats stay rats. And you lost."

Liam lifted his head, a crooked smile tugging at his lips despite the bruising grip around his arms.

Liam:

"You rich assholes… always think you’ve won just because you bought the board."

David’s smile twitched. He glanced at the monitor. His pupils shrank.

TRANSFER SUCCESSFUL.

Encryption Lock: Active.

His face contorted. He turned the gun on Liam, stepping forward.

David (furious):

"Where did you send it? Who else has it?!"

Liam (laughing quietly):

"You think I trust anyone? Hell no. But I trust that when people like you panic… you make mistakes."

He looked up, eyes glassy but steady.

Liam (voice low, almost to himself):

"Should’ve stayed in my garage. I hated this world anyway… the fake smiles, the plastic power, the money games. I hate all of you."

Click.

David pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The sound echoed through the office like thunder.

Darkness swallowed everything.

The newsroom buzzed with activity: producers coordinating the live feed, editors tweaking final scripts, and reporters hurrying to take their marks. The world was about to get its latest dose of business intrigue, this time centered on the company that had commanded attention for decades—Tianhu Corporation.

Camilla Zane sat upright at her desk, the navy-colored blazer crisp against her skin. At zero, studio lights illuminated the room, and the broadcast went live.

"Good evening, and welcome to World Tonight. Our top story today has captured the business world and beyond. Tianhu Corporation—a name synonymous with wealth and power—is once again making headlines."

Behind her, the screen glowed with an elaborate montage: Tianhu's mighty empire of skyscrapers gleaming in the sun, seamless production lines rolling out pristine products, and finally, the imposing headquarters, its facade crowned by the unmistakable Tianhu logo.

"For more than five decades, Tianhu Corporation has set the standard for excellence, led by none other than the formidable Madam Maeve Tian—a woman of unparalleled vision and determination. Under her leadership, Tianhu became the powerhouse it is today."

The broadcast cut to footage of Madam Maeve: accepting international awards, speaking at high-profile events, and shaking hands with world leaders. A portrait of power, precision, and absolute control.

"But while Madam Maeve’s legacy is well-documented, the same cannot be said for her successor, her grandson Lucas Tian."

A single photograph filled the screen—a grainy image of Lucas stepping off a private jet, his face obscured by the angle.

"For years, Lucas Tian has been the official CEO, yet he remains a mystery. No public appearances, no interviews, and only a handful of blurry photographs exist. It’s as if the most powerful heir in the world is nothing more than a ghost."

The screen shifted to a busy street, where a reporter conducted impromptu interviews.

A man in a tailored suit smirked. "I think it’s strategic. Staying out of the public eye keeps him focused. Probably a genius who doesn’t have time for trivial things like PR."

A girl with bright pink hair rolled her eyes. "Or maybe he’s hiding something. Come on, nobody disappears for this long. It’s suspicious."

An elderly woman resting on a park bench shook her head. "After what happened to his parents? I don’t blame the family for protecting him. If he were my grandson, I’d do the same."

A group of teenagers, clustered around a phone, laughed. A boy in oversized headphones grinned at the camera. "Maybe he’s a vampire. Or a secret agent. Either way, he’s living the dream!"

The footage cut back to Camilla, now leaning forward, her expression serious.

"But the era of secrecy may be coming to an end. The monumental deal with Arcadia Holdings has introduced an unexpected challenge. For the first time, Lucas Tian has been asked to appear in person to finalize the agreement. Arcadia’s CEO, David Klein, made his position clear earlier today."

The screen flickered to Klein, standing at a podium, radiating confidence. His sharp features and poised demeanor left no doubt—he was a man used to getting what he wanted.

"Tianhu has always been a beacon of innovation," Klein stated. "I look forward to meeting the visionary behind it."

As the clip ended, the camera returned to Camilla, who exhaled sharply.

"With the world watching, one question remains: Will Tianhu’s hidden heir finally step into the light, or will the mystery surrounding him only deepen?"

The broadcast faded to commercial, leaving audiences buzzing with speculation.

A remote clicked, and the TV screen went black.

Inside the grand Tian estate, silence hung heavy in the air. The living room, adorned with priceless antiques and intricate tapestries, was unusually still. The household staff treaded lightly, sensing the storm brewing in the mind of their matriarch.

Madam Maeve sat in her high-backed chair by the fireplace, her posture regal despite the weight pressing on her thoughts. The flickering flames cast shifting shadows across her face, deepening the furrow in her brow. Her teacup sat untouched on the table beside her.

Mr. Nolan, her closest confidant, stood nearby, gripping his tablet tightly. Usually composed, even he could not mask his unease.

"Klein’s demand is a calculated move," he said, voice low. "He’s testing us, seeing if Lucas is truly capable of leading Tianhu."

Madam Maeve’s lips pressed into a thin line. "David Klein is a snake," she said coldly. "He wants to exploit any sign of weakness. This is more than a business meeting—it’s a provocation."

She turned to the fire, her face darkening. "And I was foolish to allow this opening. I should have kept Lucas here."

Nolan hesitated. "Madam, Lucas insisted on taking on more responsibilities. You can’t shield him forever."

Her sharp gaze snapped to him. "Don’t lecture me, Nolan. I know my grandson better than anyone. He’s brilliant, but he’s not invincible."

Her eyes softened for a fleeting moment, memories washing over her. Lucas as a child—curious, full of promise. Then the accident. The crash that stole his parents, leaving him broken. The image of him unconscious in that hospital bed, so small, so fragile, had never left her.

"That accident took more than his parents," she whispered. "It took his sense of security. And now, one careless move could undo everything."

Nolan shifted uncomfortably. "Do you want me to cancel the deal?"

"No." Her response was immediate, firm. "Tianhu cannot afford to show weakness. But I regret letting Lucas travel alone. If anything happens to him—"

Nolan exhaled. "Lucas is stronger than you think, Madam. After all, he is your grandson."

She remained silent, her thoughts running rampant with worst-case scenarios. Even the idea of Lucas being scrutinized, pressured, or, worse, harmed, made her chest tighten.

Finally, her lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Klein thinks he has the upper hand. He’s wrong. We’ll handle this—on our terms."

Nolan bowed respectfully and exited, leaving her alone with the firelight.

And in that moment, before the crackling flames, Madam Maeve made a silent vow.

No one was going to take her grandson from her. Not Now. Not Ever.