[ Blackstone Manor — Victor's Office ]
Victor sat in his plush leather chair, the weight of decades of power and responsibility etched into his furrowed brow. His expression grew more severe with each passing moment.
The room was dimly lit, with only the glow of a lamp casting long shadows across the dark mahogany table.
Arthur stood beside it, his posture impeccably straight, eyes trained on Victor, awaiting his command.
"Arthur," Victor's voice broke the silence, still focused on the dossier in front of him.
"What's your assessment of my boy's theory?"
Arthur hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
"It's compelling, sir. There is a the possibility that this could be a natural market cycle, though—"
Victor's gaze snapped up, sharp and piercing.
"A natural cycle? And yet, I'm only hearing of this now. How could we have allowed the situation to escalate without intervention?"
His voice, though calm, held an unmistakable edge of frustration.
"The Blackstones may not dominate finance, but our reach is vast. We employ some of the brightest minds in economics no?"
Arthur shifted ever so slightly, feeling the pressure mount.
"Sir, the Vanguards have reviewed the matter. It seems some of our financial analysts raised flags some time ago, but..."
He trailed off, measuring his words with care.
"Their reports were... buried."
*THUD!*
Victor's hand slammed onto the desk, scattering papers.
His face flushed with anger as he rose to his feet, the chair rolling back with the force of his movement.
"Buried?! Who the hell would dare—"
He stopped himself, drawing a deep breath, forcing his temper under control.
Victor's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Arthur's every expression.
The room felt stifling, the weight of unspoken implications thick in the air.
"Arthur," Victor's voice dropped to a menacing calm, "are you suggesting that the Vanguards might be… compromised?"
Arthur dropped to one knee, a gesture of both respect and the seriousness of the moment.
"No, sir. The loyalty of the Vanguards is unquestionable. However,"
He paused, ensuring his next words were precise,
"Our effectiveness hinges on the accuracy of the information we're given."
Victor's jaw tightened.
"Go on."
Arthur held his ground, though a bead of sweat trickled down his temple.
"Sir, the Vanguards have been the guardians of the Blackstone legacy for generations. Our loyalty is unwavering. But our strength is only as reliable as the data from the Blackstone empire's global network. If that data is compromised, whether by error or design…"
Victor's fist struck the desk again.
"Damn it! We've steered the course of history from the shadows for centuries. How could we be blindsided like this?"
Arthur lifted his head, meeting Victor's gaze with steady resolve.
"Sir, our core industries—energy, real estate, pharmaceuticals—are still formidable. But perhaps we've… underestimated the evolving landscape. The financial and tech sectors are reshaping the world at an unprecedented pace."
Victor's eyes narrowed, a flicker of doubt crossing his stern facade.
"You think we've been outmaneuvered?"
"Not outmaneuvered, sir. But we've been slow to adapt. The world is changing rapidly. Information technology has made large strides, and we're not as proficient in it as we once were."
Arthur's expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. He rose slowly, his posture rigid as he faced Victor.
"Sir, the situation is... more complex than we initially thought," Arthur continued, his voice low and measured.
"Even now, we're unsure if our internal networks have been compromised or if we have a traitor amongst the conglomerate's executives."
Victor's face darkened, his fingers drumming an agitated rhythm on the desk. "Speak," he growled.
Arthur cleared his throat. "As you know, the Blackstone Vanguards have been dispatched to handle... delicate matters overseas these past few years." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "The disputes regarding our oil fields and mines required immediate attention. The nature of these conflicts was... urgent, to say the least."
Victor nodded grimly, understanding the weight of Arthur's carefully chosen words.
"If this was indeed a targeted attack," Arthur continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "the masterminds timed this perfectly. They chose to act when our attention was elsewhere, our resources stretched thin across global fronts."
Victor's expression hardened, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face as he turned his gaze to the family portrait on his desk.
His eyes lingered on Victoria's image.
"Victoria... I entrusted her with the reins of our headquarters. How could she have missed this?"
Arthur cleared his throat, his posture straightening even further.
"If I may, sir, Young Lady Victoria has been performing exceptionally well, considering her age and the enormity of the task."
Victor's eyebrow arched, silently prompting Arthur to continue.
"She's been incredibly hands-on, sir. Determined to learn every facet of our business empire. It's... understandable that in her zeal to master the intricacies, she might have overlooked some broader trends."
Victor's fingers drummed on the desk, his frown deepening.
Arthur pressed on, his voice steady.
"Moreover, sir, the stock and housing market manipulations have been working in the company's favor these past years. There were no obvious red flags to catch her attention."
Victor's let out a sigh.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers massaging his temples.
"I've always been proud of her and understand the pressure she has, but this... oversight... it could be lethal."
He sighed, the weight of generations of Blackstone legacy heavy on his shoulders.
"Sigh… We've weathered storms before, but this... this feels different. For the first time in generations, the Blackstone empire is truly at risk."
Victor leaned back in his chair, eyes distant as if lost in memory.
"Arthur," he began, his voice low, "about Brandon's condition..."
Arthur straightened, a flicker of anticipation crossing his face.
"Sir, if I may... there are certain... technologies at our disposal. Experimental, but promising. They could potentially restore the Young Master's psyche, however—"
Victor's hand shot up, cutting Arthur off mid-sentence.
"No," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
"I won't risk my son's life, no matter how small the chance. He's been through enough."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Victor's gaze drifted to the family portrait on his desk, lingering on Brandon's image.
"You know, Arthur," he continued, his voice softening,
"I haven't seen Brandon this... carefree in over a decade. This amnesia... as troubling as it is, might be a blessing in disguise. A vacation from it all."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Sir?"
Victor sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Brandon's upbringing... it wasn't easy. The expectations, the training, the constant pressure to excel in every field and to have to hide it all on top of that. Sometimes I wonder if we pushed him too hard."
He paused, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.
"This new Brandon... the budding superstar, '13'. He's happy, Arthur. Truly happy. I can't remember the last time I saw him smile like that."
Arthur nodded, understanding dawning on his face.
"Indeed, sir. And if I may add, even with his memories gone, young Master Brandon has proven himself quite remarkable. To spot the looming economic danger when all of us were fooled... it's truly impressive."
Victor's eyes lit up with pride.
"Yes, it is. My boy's always been sharp."
Victor's expression softened as he gazed at Brandon's photo. A warm smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, replacing the stern mask he usually wore.
Arthur cleared his throat softly.
"Sir, if I may... given the gravity of the situation, should we consider assembling The Round Table?"
The change was instant.
The warmth in Victor's eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, steely glare.
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening visibly.
"No," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"Too much is at stake. We can't trust anyone now."
The atmosphere in the room shifted, growing heavy with an almost palpable tension.
The shadows seemed to deepen, creeping further into the corners of the office.
Victor stood, his movements deliberate and controlled.
He turned to face the window, his silhouette stark against the fading light outside.
"The Blackstones have been challenged," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's time we remind them why we've reigned for centuries."