Simon stormed into one of his private offices located in the lower decks, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public. The clacking of his dress shoes echoed through the silent hallway, and a burly security guard followed closely behind. The guard stationed at the door held it open for Simon to pass through, but Simon's demeanor was so intense that the guard instinctively took a step back.
As soon as they were alone in the room and Simon was sure the door was securely shut, he turned to face the man and delivered a brutal punch to his face. The force of the blow sent the man reeling back, his body crumpling to the floor. Blood immediately gushed out of the man's nose, staining the carpeted floor.
The man groaned in agony, holding his face and doubling over. "Fuck!" he cursed between gritted teeth, struggling to get back up. Simon towered over him, seething with anger.
Gone was the composed and collected Simon, who normally exuded an air of calmness and control. The man standing before the tall and broad figure was a beast, a furious and intimidating force to be reckoned with. His eyes blazed with an intense fury, and his normally smooth voice was laced with a snarl.
"I should have gotten word of the attack as soon as it happened! Why the hell am I hearing about this now?" Simon bellowed, lunging forward to grab the tall man by the collar of his expensive suit. He pulled him close, the man's feet barely touching the ground, and shoved his face inches from the trembling figure.
The man shuddered under Simon's wrath, his brows furrowed in fear as he tried to speak. "They jammed the cameras. We couldn't see anything," he managed to stammer.
Simon's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of the man's suit. "If someone can just waltz onto my cruise ship and jam the cameras, then maybe I don't need your services anymore. Maybe I'm just feeding the wrong crowd," he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Boss, I swear it's never happened before—" the man began to protest.
"Shut up!" Simon roared, his voice echoing through the small office. "Or I'll cut your tongue right out of your mouth!" He shoved the man away, sending him stumbling back against the wall.
"I don't pay you to make excuses, I pay you to get things done. And if you can't do that, then maybe I should find someone else who can," he said, his voice dripping with venom.
The man nodded frantically, sweat dripping down his face. "I understand, boss. It won't happen again, I swear."
Simon narrowed his eyes, studying the man in front of him. He had been working with him for years, but he was starting to lose faith in him. Maybe it was time to cut ties and find someone more reliable. He took another deep breath and tried to calm himself down.
"Fine," he said finally. "But I want you to double down on security. We can't afford any more slip-ups."
The man nodded again, relief evident on his face. "Yes, boss."
Simon's eyes narrowed, his fists still balled up in anger. He didn't seem to notice the blood oozing from the cuts on his knuckles as he adjusted his suit and tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. "And what about the footage? Did you recover anything?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
The man straightened his tie and reached for a folder on the desk, handing it to Simon. "Here are the reports and the footage we managed to recover before the cameras went down," he said, trying to sound confident despite the pain in his face.
Simon snatched the folder from his hand and began flipping through the pages, his eyes scanning each line carefully. As he read, his expression grew darker and more furious with each passing second.
"This is just fucking great," he seethed, slamming the folder down on the desk. "They play with our latest gadgets like they're goddamn toys and leave us with this fucking joke? I swear to God, Randy, you're making me question every damn investment I've made in you."
Randy swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to avoid Simon's burning gaze. "I-I'm sorry, boss. I didn't know this was going to happen. We had tested it multiple times before it was deployed," he stammered.
Simon's fist collided with the desk, sending a shockwave that made the items on it rattle. "Excuses won't cut it," he growled. "This is completely unacceptable. If I can't trust you to keep me informed of what's happening on this damn ship, then what the hell do I need you for?"
Randy shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Simon's disappointment bearing down on him. "I understand, boss. I'll do everything in my power to make it right."
"You better, or you can kiss your job and your career goodbye," Simon spat, his anger still simmering. "Get out of my sight and don't come back until you have a solution to this mess."
Once Randy left with a bleeding nose, the door had barely closed when another man walked inside. He was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a black leather jacket that hugged his broad shoulders and muscular arms. His eyes were dark, like the pits of hell, and his sharp jawline gave him a menacing look.
Simon turned to face the man, his expression more relaxed now that he had dealt with the nuisance. He took a stick of cigarette and fumbled in his pocket for a lighter. The man stepped closer, extending his hand to offer the lighter.
"I hope you have a piece of good news for me," Simon said, his voice more controlled than before.
The man grinned, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "Of course, I have," he said, shrugging. "One of the two men involved in the attack - we have him. I came here to see if you'd like to have the honor of landing the first punch."
Simon's eyes widened with excitement. He took a long drag on his cigarette, then snuffed it out in an ashtray on the desk. "Lead the way," he said, getting up from his chair. "I've been itching to let out some steam."
The man's grin widened, revealing crooked teeth as he led Simon through the winding corridors. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the dull gray walls. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, drowned out only by the occasional groan of the ship's engines. At the end of the hallway, they stopped before a nondescript metal door. The man produced a key and unlocked it with a flourish, then stepped back to let Simon enter first.
Inside, the room was small and cramped, the air thick with the smell of sweat and fear. A single naked light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows on the walls. In the center of the room sat a burly man, his face battered and bruised, his arms tied tightly to the back of the chair. His eyes darted between Simon and his companion, fear and anger warring in their depths.
Simon stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the man in the chair. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the hunger for violence pulsing through his veins. The man before him was an affront to his authority, a threat to his power. He would not allow him to go unpunished.
"Who sent you?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The man spat in his direction, a glob of blood and saliva landing at his feet. Simon's eyes narrowed, his anger boiling over. In one swift motion, he backhanded the man across the face, the crack of the blow echoing through the room.
"I asked you a question," he growled, his fists clenched at his sides. The man glared at him, his lips curled into a sneer.
"Go to hell," he spat.
Simon's knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip, his eyes narrowing into slits. He could feel the man's fear now, a palpable thing that hung in the air like a noose around his neck. "I'll ask you one more time," Simon said, his voice low and dangerous. "Who sent you?"
The man's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that he knew didn't exist. He hesitated for a moment, but Simon's imposing presence left him feeling cornered and trapped. With no way out, he spoke in a low whisper. "I would rather die," he said, refusing to meet Simon's gaze. "He's going to kill me anyway."
"Who?" Simon asked sharply. "Who's going to kill you?"
The man hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking. "The one who hired me to do this job. He's going to kill me if I talk."
Simon stood in front of the man, his piercing gaze locked on his trembling figure. He took a step back and began to pace the room slowly, his mind racing with possibilities. The silence in the room was deafening as the man waited anxiously for Simon's response.
Finally, Simon stopped and fixed his gaze on the man. "And what if I give you a safe passage?"
The man's eyes widened in surprise, unsure if he could trust Simon's offer. "What does that mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Simon said, his eyes never leaving the man's face. "You have something that I want, and in exchange for it, I can give you something you desperately need. A safe passage out of this cruise before your hirer even gets a whiff of what you've done."
The man's eyes widened as he realized what Simon was offering. He licked his dry lips nervously, his mind racing as he weighed his options. The dimly lit room felt suffocating, and the sound of his own rapid breathing filled his ears. Simon watched him carefully, his mind calculating the potential outcomes of his proposal.
After what felt like an eternity, the man finally spoke, his voice barely audible. "What do you want from me?"
Simon smiled, a cold and calculated smile. "Information," he replied simply, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I want to know who hired you and why you were sent to kill Ronin."
The man swallowed hard, his fear palpable. He knew he was in a precarious position, but the promise of a safe passage was too tempting to pass up. He took a deep breath, then began to speak, his words spilling out in a rush as if he couldn't get them out fast enough.
After Simon had obtained what he wanted from the man tied up in the room, he stepped out into the hallway and found the sinister man from earlier leaning against the wall outside. The man had a toothpick wedged between his teeth and a dark expression on his face. He turned his head to find Simon cleaning his knuckles, a satisfied smirk spreading across his features.
"Finish him," Simon said, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument.
The wicked man nodded in agreement, flicking the toothpick from his mouth and stepping past Simon towards the room. Simon watched him go, his mind already moving onto the next task at hand. He had a reputation to uphold, and he wouldn't let anyone stand in his way.
Simon stormed back into his office and snatched his phone from the desk, his fingers shaking with rage. He punched in the numbers with such force that the device nearly cracked. "Randy," he barked, his voice low and dangerous. "Triple the security detail on Carmen. I need to know her every move, every breath she takes. And if there's even a hint of danger, I want to know about it before it even happens." Simon paused, his eyes flashing with anger.
"And let me make one thing perfectly clear," his voice dropped dangerously low. "If anything happens to her, if she even so much as stubs her toe, I will personally make sure that your life is a living hell. Am I understood?"
"Yes, boss!"