The day of the announcement arrived soon. Executives, lawmakers, and members of the media flocked to government buildings, waiting in anticipation. This most critical national cybersecurity initiative would alter the path of the computer industry for the next decade, and Tiberius Marlowe and Nikolai Drakos, two tech titans, were the focus of all attention.
The atmosphere inside the large hall where the announcement would be delivered was strained. Tiber sat calmly in his chair, wearing a black suit that made him appear even more dominant. His face lacked expression, simply icy composure. Nikolai stood across from him, appearing agitated. He sat with his chin up, but there was a noticeable tightness behind his eyes. Winning was everything to Nikolai, and this time, it was on the line.
Ivy Calder sat in the center, her demeanor neutral. On the outside, she appeared cool and unconcerned, but within, her heart was hammering. She knew who would win. Tiber has already taken care of that. But Ivy's game included faking. This was her opportunity to play the dramatic role, convincing everyone, including Nikolai, that she was truly astonished by the results that were about to be revealed.
As the Minister of Technology approached the microphone, the room became silent. Everybody held their breath. The reporters were poised with cameras and microphones, waiting for every word the minister spoke. "We have conducted an in-depth review, going through every bid submitted, considering not only the quality of the technology but also its reliability for the future of national security."
Nikolai's gaze never left the minister. Ivy could see taut muscles in his jaw and hands holding the chair's arms as if to squeeze them. This was a man who was unaccustomed to losing. Nikolai has always triumphed. But Ivy knew it wouldn't be that way this time.
"After a lengthy process and consideration of several critical factors," the minister went on. "We are pleased to announce that the winner of the national cybersecurity tender is... Marlowe Industries."
The room erupted with camera flashes and hushed muttering. Tiber remained sitting, merely slightly lifting her brow, as if she had known the news all along. Ivy, on the other hand, delivered an exceptional performance. She stared at Tiber in stunned silence, her palm covering her lips and her eyes wide, as if she couldn't believe what had just transpired.
"Oh my God..." she muttered softly, hardly heard among the crowd.
Nikolai froze. His face bore an obvious expression of crushing disappointment. He grimaced, as if attempting to process what he'd just heard. Then he stood up suddenly. His face was bloodshot, and his eyes burned with almost unbearable wrath.
"This can't be..." he whispered quietly before raising the tone. "This is impossible!"
The executives around him looked surprised by his reaction. The reporters began to swivel their heads, soaking up every detail of the dejected countenance on this ordinarily invincible man. Nikolai, who had always seemed certain of victory, suddenly stood in the center of the room, his eyes filled with rage and scorn.
Ivy feigned to soothe Nikolai and touched his arm. "Nikolai, calm down. This is not the end."
But Nikolai pushed her hand away roughly, his expression deepening in disappointment. "You promised me," he said quietly, loud enough for Ivy to hear. "You said you'd make sure I won."
Ivy took a deep breath and continued to perform her job. "I tried my best, Nikolai. There are certain factors beyond my control."
Nikolai glanced at them curiously, almost in disbelief of what had just occurred. He sensed something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what. He felt deceived, but Ivy was playing it too cleanly, making it appear as if she was genuinely trying for him.
"Not enough!" Nikolai exclaimed abruptly, his rage exploding. "The money I gave to you! I supported you! What use is it if you can't secure this victory for me?"
Ivy was silent for a moment, then withdrew gracefully, her face full of shock and contrived disappointment. "I can't control everything, Nikolai. I do what I can."
Nikolai turned his face away, obviously disappointed, feeling that all his sacrifices had been for nothing. His whole plan was ruined. The world around him seemed to collapse. Nikolai's eyes flared with rage that was already difficult to conceal. His jaw clenched, and he held his breath, restraining himself from cursing Tiber and Ivy.
"Come on, Nikolai. We're leaving now," muttered one of his closest coworkers, sitting next to him. He patted Nikolai's shoulder, attempting to distract him before his rage erupted.
Nikolai strained quietly, hesitantly shaking his partner's hand. "Do you think this is over? Is this it?" His voice was low but piercing as a razor, and several individuals nearby held their breath.
Another member of his entourage, a towering man who was normally silent, interfered. "Nikolai, if you scream now, you'll look defeated, and you know it."
The words, while cutting, managed to hold Nikolai back for a moment. He clinched his jaw, trying to relax himself, but his eyes continued to pierce Tiber and Ivy in turn.
Nikolai finally nodded, despite his ragged breath. He rose confidently and went out, flanked by his entourage. Each step was filled with pent-up rage, and his body tensed, as if he were about to erupt. However, he allowed his entourage to escort him out of the room, leaving Tiber and Ivy behind closed doors, while he swore in his heart that this vengeance was only starting.
Tiber watched from afar. In his heart, he knew that this game was over. Nikolai had lost, and it was a bitter defeat—more bitter than Nikolai could have ever imagined. And Ivy? She played the dual role of perfection, evading any blame with incredible ingenuity.
Gracefully, Tiber rose from her chair and walked toward the exit, not caring for the chaos behind him. Tiber left the hall knowing one thing for certain: only one person could win this game, and that person was him.
Meanwhile, Ivy strolled slowly toward the parking lot, staring at Nikolai's back as he drove away with his entourage, her wrath unmistakable. Ivy swallowed a laugh and covered her face with the sorrowful, shocked smile she had perfected over the years.
When she arrived in a quiet location, a faint smile spread across her lips, and she muttered softly, almost as if to her own mirror, "Oh, how funny to see it all crumble before your eyes, Nikolai. You will never know... I am not here to play politics. It's about far more than a simple game."
She retrieved a little mirror from her pocket and checked her face, as if getting ready for her next performance. "We all wear masks, baby," she muttered again, practically hissing, "only mine is more convincing."
***