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Chapter 98
The following morning at the Ironport Mercantile Bank headquarters. Inside the boardroom on the top floor, twenty senior board directors sat in tense silence, their eyes fixed anxiously on Clement Nicolas as he paced slowly at the head of the table. Clement’s posture carried the energy of a man standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, as he forced a dry smile across his face. “Gentlemen, let us not lose our composure over a few sensationalized internet rumours and disgruntled media clips,” Clement said, his voice carrying a practised ring that echoed off the high ceiling. And he continued, “The digital smear campaign launched by our competitors yesterday was designed to cause panic. But let me remind you of one fundamental truth: this institution is built on an unbreakable foundation.” Director Magnus, an elderly man with decades of experience in finance, shifted uncomfortably in his leather chair. He adjusted his glasses, staring
Chapter 97
Meanwhile, Deputy Commissioner Owen adjusted the microphone, his expression stern as he looked out over the sea of flashing camera lenses. “Good afternoon, members of the press,” Owen began, his voice echoing across the public square with authority. “I am Deputy Harbour Commissioner Owen, speaking on behalf of the regional customs bureau and federal maritime oversight board. We have just monitored the broadcast presented by Mr Gideon Louis regarding Fletcher Logistics. I am here to state unequivocally that every single allegation made at this podium is a malicious fabrication.” Gideon Louis smug grin instantly froze on his face. He took a nervous half-step backwards, his eyes widening in sudden disbelief as murmurs broke out among the reporters. Owen opened the thick federal binder, pulling out certified digital printouts and forensic technical reports. “Our cyber-forensics division, in coordination with maritime inspection teams, has analysed the photographs presented by Mr. Lou
Chapter 96
Just an hour prior, inside a private, dimly lit VIP lounge at the Ironport Continental Hotel. Clement Nicolas sat in a leather chair, swirling a glass of whiskey as he watched a middle-aged man in a tailored suit slide a folder across the coffee table. The man was Gideon Louis, one of the most prominent investigative journalists in the city, and also one of the most thoroughly corrupt. Gideon opened the folder with a flick of his fingers, revealing stacks of crisp, banded hundred-dollar bills nestled neatly beneath a set of forged shipping manifests and digitally manipulated photographs. He didn’t look at the money with shock or hesitation; his eyes merely flicked over the cash with the calculation of a professional merchant measuring inventory. “Fifty thousand upfront, and another fifty wired to your Swiss account the moment the broadcast concludes. Is that sufficient for your troubles, Mr. Sterling?” Clement stated smoothly, as he set his whiskey glass down. Gideon closed th
Chapter 95
By eight o’clock, the news of Grant Castellan’s sudden, overnight disappearance had swept through the underground like wildfire. Inside the home of the Fletcher family, they sat down freely a mixture of anger and concerned.Arthur received the money sent and was told he could use it to rebuild the burnt part of the building.Julian sat, sipping a warm cup of coffee. His mind still reeled with the thoughts of what happened the previous night.Arthur walked into the room, carrying two steaming cups of tea. He placed one gently on Julian’s table before taking a seat in the leather chair across from him.“You’re in early today, Son,” Arthur said with a approving smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “After everything that happened last night, I thought you would sleep past noon.”Julian chuckled softly, setting his coffee cup down. “Sleep? Dad, how could I sleep? When I walked out of that building last night and saw thirty armed thugs lying across the pavement like broken toys, my hea
Chapter 94
Inside the car, Castellan’s face was soaked in cold sweat. His hands trembled so violently against the steering wheel that he could barely keep the vehicle pointed toward the exit gates. Panic clawed at his chest, whispering terrifying thoughts into his mind. He had seen what Gabriel did to thirty armed men in less than a few minutes; he had watched bones snap, and massive men fall like wheat before a scythe. He knew that if he didn’t escape this yard right now, he would die here.“Move, Go! Start moving, you piece of junk!” Castellan screamed at the car, slamming his palm onto the horn as the vehicle finally caught traction and surged backwards.Standing a few yards away, Julian watched with wide eyes. He clutched the master ledger tightly against his chest, his adrenaline still pulsing through his veins. He looked from the broken men scattered across the concrete to Gabriel, wondering how Gabriel would stop a fleeing vehicle.Gabriel did not rush. He simply walked forward with a ca
Chapter 93
Grant Castellan blinked, his smug smile vanishing the moment he recognised the figure stepping out of the car.“Gabriel?” Castellan stuttered out, his voice cracking in disbelief. “How did you? You were supposed to be at Ascord Spring!”Gabriel did not spare him a single word. His face was hardened, his eyes locked entirely on the second-story windows of the administration building, where roaring flames licked aggressively against the night sky. Julian was trapped inside that burning inferno.With a fluid motion, Gabriel lifted the heavy industrial fire-suppression cannon resting on his shoulder. He aimed the heavy nozzle directly toward the shattered second-floor balcony doors.A deafening surge of high-density chemical suppression foam erupted from the cannon with blinding speed. A freezing blizzard of white retardant hurtled through the air, coating the entire second-floor executive office in seconds. The roaring flames did not just weaken; they choked and died instantly under the
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