Surprise and interest flickered across Annie's face.
"Oh? Why so?"
Brandon's eyes narrowed as he thought it through.
"The timing's off. The attack was premeditated, and I'm still too much of a small fry to warrant such drastic measures. The enemy must know I'm a Blackstone and probably understands the implications more clearly than I do."
He paused, gathering his thoughts.
"They must also be powerful enough to disregard NOA's reputation or well-connected enough to have someone on the inside. And not to underestimate anyone, but if someone of the caliber of Gerald Sinclair is worthy of becoming their VP, then the Sinclairs are definitely not a top-tier force."
Annie's smile widened, a hint of pride gleaming in her eyes as she listened to Brandon's analysis.
She reached out, cupping his cheek gently.
"My darling boy, you've grown into such a fine young man," she said, her voice warm with affection.
"Your analysis is spot on. But remember, in our position, in our world, nothing is ever as simple as what meets the eye."
Brandon furrowed his brow, intrigued.
"What do you mean?"
Annie's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief.
"Do you remember the reason I shared for leaving the industry?"
Brandon nodded slowly.
"You mentioned at breakfast the other day about being sick of the trends."
Annie nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Indeed. But tell me, do you not think that as both a Montclair and a Blackstone, I could've changed that if I wanted to?"
Brandon's eyes widened, shock rippling through him as realization dawned.
"So you're saying..."
"There is always more than meets the eye," Annie replied, her voice low and serious.
"At our level, nothing is accidental, not even cultural trends."
Brandon's eyes widened, shock rippling through him as the implications of Annie's words sank in.
"So you're saying... we're responsible for the shallow and vain music environment we know today?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Annie shook her head, her expression serious.
"No, but surrendering influence in the media space was an exchange for concessions in other areas..."
Brandon's brow furrowed, trying to process this new information.
"But why would anyone want to degrade a part of our culture to such an extent?"
Annie sighed, her gaze drifting to the window.
She looked up at the sky, her eyes distant as if searching for answers in the clouds.
"Why indeed..." she murmured, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and regret.
A thought struck Brandon, and he sat up straighter, wincing slightly at the movement.
"Wait, regardless of the purpose, by knowing who the deal was struck with, can't we not infer who's responsible for the attempt at silencing me?"
Annie turned back to him, her eyes refocusing on her son.
"It's not that simple..." she said, shaking her head slowly.
"It never is. Even amongst our ranks, there are different factions, and anyone powerful enough to pull such a blatant assassination attempt..."
She paused, her voice growing heavy.
"Won't be easy to pinpoint."
Brandon leaned back against his pillows, his mind racing with the implications of his mother's words. He delved deep into thought, his brow furrowed in concentration.
'What could be the purpose of deliberately degrading the world's music culture?' he wondered, his inner voice tinged with disbelief and curiosity.
His mind flashed back to his first ride in the Blackstone Rolls Royce, Max's words echoing in his memory.
"What passes for it these days, I'm afraid. It's all shock value and product placement. Actual lyricism? That's become something of a lost art."
Brandon's thoughts flitted through the performances he'd witnessed at the gala - the manufactured pop groups, the provocative dance routines, the shallow lyrics.
It all seemed designed to appeal to the basest instincts, to promote consumerism and hedonism.
'But why?' Brandon questioned internally.
'What's the endgame here?'
He considered the possibility of it being a distraction. But if so, a distraction from what? What could be so significant that it required the manipulation of an entire cultural cornerstone?
Brandon's mind raced through potential scenarios. Economic manipulation? Political maneuvering? Social engineering? Each possibility seemed both plausible and far-fetched at the same time.
Brandon reached for his phone on the nightstand, his movements slow and deliberate. Annie watched him silently, recognizing the deep concentration etched on his face.
He opened the browser, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before typing.
'What were the major global events that affected Earth on a global scale?' he thought to himself.
Brandon entered [ 9/11 ] into the search bar.
The results populated quickly, showing information about the World Trade Center bombing.
'Okay, so that happened here too,' he mused.
Next, he searched for [ Covid ] No results appeared. Brandon's brow furrowed.
'Hmm, so history in this world isn't exactly the same. Maybe the timelines are different in this parallel world?'
As he scrolled through the page, something caught his eye. An abundance of real estate and financial product ads dotted the webpage. Realization struck him.
Brandon quickly typed [ The Great Recession ] into the search bar. He frowned as he scanned the results, then modified his search to [ The 2008 Recession ].
To his surprise, no results appeared.
He looked up at Annie, shock evident in his eyes.
She tilted her head, returning his gaze with curiosity.
Turning back to his phone, Brandon typed another search: [ Housing Prices ].
He clicked on a link, revealing graphs that showed skyrocketing housing prices.
"It hasn't happened yet," Brandon murmured to himself.
Annie leaned forward slightly.
"What did you say?" she asked, her voice laced with intrigue.
Brandon quickly shook his head, attempting to brush off his mother's curiosity.
"Uh, nothing," he muttered, his eyes still glued to the phone screen.
He typed one last search: [ Stock Market Trends ]. As the results loaded, Brandon scanned past articles boasting of a bull market. His eyes darted between graphs, each showing volatile market activity and stock prices at record highs.
A chill ran down his spine as realization dawned on him.
Not only had the recession not happened yet, but it seemed to be looming just around the corner.
'Could it be that it's precisely because their plan was about to unfold that they decided to silence me?' he thought.
But doubt crept in almost immediately.
'No, in the grand scheme of things, I'm still too minuscule a factor...'
Suddenly, a new possibility struck him.
'Unless... I wasn't the target, but my father!'
Brandon's head snapped up, his gaze meeting his mother's concerned eyes.
"Mom," he said, his voice tight with urgency, "what industries does our family focus on?"
Annie's brow furrowed slightly at the abrupt question, but she answered without hesitation.
"Energy, pharmaceuticals, and real estate," she replied, her tone betraying a hint of curiosity at her son's sudden interest.
Brandon's mind raced, connecting the dots between the industries his family dominated and the impending economic storm he suspected was on the horizon.
'This is a directed attack! a consolidation of global powers maybe?'
Brandon's heart raced as the implications of his realization sank in.
If the Great Recession were to suddenly befall, his new family would be crippled.
The urgency of the situation pressed down on him like a physical weight.
"Mom," he said, his voice tight with tension,
"I need to speak with Dad and Victoria as soon as possible. It's urgent."
Annie's brow furrowed, concern etching itself across her elegant features.
"What's the matter, darling? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
Brandon shook his head, his mind still reeling from the connections he'd made.
"I'll fill you all in when they're here. But I think... I might have an idea what this assassination attempt might be all about."
He watched as his mother's expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and apprehension flickering across her face.
She cast a longing gaze at him, as if trying to decipher the thoughts racing through his mind.
After a moment of hesitation, Annie nodded.
"Alright, I'll contact them right away."