Shadows of Power
The digital clock on the wall ticked past midnight, but Damien's office remained a hive of activity. The view from his towering skyscraper offered a glittering panorama of the city, but the man seated behind the massive ebony desk was too immersed in his work to notice. Stacks of reports lay organized on his desk, a testament to the empire he controlled with an iron grip.
Greg stood across from him, his demeanor professional but at ease, as though accustomed to the relentless pace Damien set. Their conversation was brisk, discussing updates on various projects.
"The Singapore deal is moving forward," Greg began, glancing at the tablet in his hand. "They've agreed to your terms, but they're pushing for an expedited timeline."
Damien didn't look up from the document he was signing. "Expedite it, then. Ensure everything is airtight. If they can't keep up, I'll find someone who will."
Greg gave a small nod. "And the Rome acquisition?"
"The board will fall in line," Damien said flatly, his pen scratching the paper with precision. "If not, remind them who they're dealing with. Politely, of course."
Greg smirked faintly, accustomed to Damien's version of politeness—a veiled threat wrapped in charm. He was about to bring up another matter when Damien's phone buzzed.
The CEO paused, his sharp gaze flickering to the encrypted line displayed on the screen. He leaned back in his chair, the movement deliberate, and answered with a curt, "Speak."
Greg watched as Damien's expression hardened. The voice on the other end spoke quickly, but the words were unintelligible to anyone except Damien. His jaw clenched, and the tension in the room thickened.
"Handle it," Damien said, his tone chillingly calm. "No loose ends."
He ended the call with a click, his piercing gaze lingering on the phone for a moment before shifting back to Greg.
Even after years of working for Damien, Greg felt a ripple of unease when he caught the glint in Damien's eyes—a cold, dangerous look that hinted at a side of his boss few dared to cross.
Greg swallowed, clearing his throat. "Anything else, sir?"
Damien leaned forward, the intensity in his gaze unwavering. "Keep an eye on Lily," he said, his voice deceptively casual. "If she does anything out of the ordinary, I want to know. Anything suspicious—report it immediately."
Greg nodded, hiding his curiosity behind a mask of professionalism. "Understood."
As Greg turned to leave, Damien's voice stopped him mid-step.
"Make no mistake, Greg," Damien added, his tone like steel. "This is a priority."
"Yes, sir," Greg replied, his unease deepening before he exited the room.
---
Alone once more, Damien opened a drawer and withdrew a worn photograph. The edges were frayed, and the image was slightly faded. In it, a much younger Damien stood beside Lily's father, their faces composed but their postures speaking of unspoken tensions. His thumb brushed over the edge of the photo.
"You'll see, Lily," he murmured, his voice low and ominous. "This is only the beginning."