Evan sat in the dimly lit conference room of Mercer Biotech, fingers lightly drumming against the polished oak table. Across from him sat Howard Vance, Victor Langley, and Conrad Holt, the three primary investors who had poured millions into his company, their expressions a mixture of greed and anticipation.
The legal contracts lay untouched before them, thick stacks of documents detailing ownership structure, patents, and market strategies for the upcoming serum release.
Vance, always the most impatient, adjusted his cufflinks. "Alright, Mercer, let's get to the real discussion. Equity distribution."
Langley, ever the strategist, leaned forward. "Considering that we've been financing this operation from the start, we expect a fair division of shares."
Holt, who had remained quiet so far, exhaled. "A company like Mercer Biotech will be bigger than any pharmaceutical corporation in history once this goes public. That means we need leverage to ensure our investments aren't undermined later."
Evan smirked, as if he had expected this exact conversation. He clasped his hands together, his voice calm and measured. "Gentlemen, let's not waste time pretending we don't know what's at stake here. We all want control, but let's be clear—without me, there is no Mercer Biotech."
Langley arched an eyebrow. "You're suggesting we take a minority position?"
Evan's smile widened ever so slightly. "I'm not suggesting. I'm stating. I keep 60% ownership of the company. You three will receive 8% each as permanent, non-controlling shares. The remaining 16% will be distributed among government agencies and top elites—because let's be real, they'll want their cut whether we like it or not."
Vance narrowed his eyes. "You expect us to agree to just 8% each, after everything we've put into this company?"
Langley chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "That's highway robbery, Mercer. We expected at least 20% each."
Evan leaned back, letting the silence stretch. He wanted them to stew in their frustration before hitting them with the reality they hadn't considered.
"I understand your frustration," he said smoothly. "But let me ask you something—which one of you developed the serum?"
The room remained silent.
"Which one of you ensured that it works flawlessly?" Evan continued. "Which one of you ran the genetic trials, engineered the controlled dilution process, and ensured that we can sell two different versions without anyone noticing the manipulation?"
Holt's jaw tightened. "We provided the funding."
"And you'll get your returns—massive ones, might I add." Evan gestured to the financial projections on the table. "But funding alone doesn't make a company successful. If I walk away tomorrow, Mercer Biotech collapses instantly. You'll have patents, but no one else on this planet can reproduce my results."
Vance's face darkened. "You're backing us into a corner."
Evan's smirk didn't waver. "I'm simply reminding you of reality."
Langley exhaled sharply. "Even if we agreed to this ridiculous proposal, the government won't just stand by and let you control something this powerful."
Evan nodded. "Which is why I'm offering them 16%, ensuring that they have a vested interest in our success rather than working to suppress us. That's why we will sell the elite version of the serum privately to high-ranking officials, ensuring their loyalty."
Vance was silent, fingers tapping against the table. "And you expect us to just accept 8%?"
Evan tilted his head. "Let's be honest—what other choice do you have?"
Langley clenched his jaw. "We could push back. Force a renegotiation. Bring in outside scientists—"
Evan let out a low chuckle. "You could try. But tell me, Langley, how long do you think Mercer Biotech will survive without me? How long before our competitors get wind of this and try to dismantle us? Before the government starts probing into your assets?"
Holt sighed, rubbing his temples. "He's right. We can't replace him."
Vance's lips pressed into a thin line, frustration evident in every muscle of his face. He was a man used to winning negotiations, but this time, he was outplayed before he even sat down.
Langley let out a slow breath. "Eight percent, huh?"
Evan nodded. "Eight percent each."
Silence stretched in the room once more before Holt reached for the pen and signed first.
Vance and Langley followed, albeit begrudgingly.
Evan took the signed contracts and tucked them neatly into his briefcase. "I appreciate your understanding of the bigger picture."
Langley shook his head, muttering, "I've never been robbed so politely in my life."
Evan smirked. "Welcome to the future, gentlemen."
Days later, the first whispers began.
Mercer Biotech's breakthroughs hadn't gone unnoticed.
In the Pentagon, a high-ranking military general sat in his office, staring at a classified report detailing the effects of Mercer's serum. His fingers drummed against the wooden desk as he turned to his subordinate.
"This… is a problem," the general muttered. "A private company having the ability to control the world's diseases? That's more dangerous than nuclear weapons."
Across the ocean, intelligence agencies scrambled for information. The CIA, MI6, and even the KGB were all paying attention now. If the serum was real—and everything pointed to the fact that it was—then whoever controlled Mercer Biotech controlled the future.
In New York, a representative from Stark Industries sat across from a government official, reviewing a similar report. "Howard Stark is going to want to know about this," the man muttered. "And I don't think he'll be thrilled."
The government didn't need more powerful private interests. The elite didn't like when something this revolutionary was outside their control.
Within days, representatives from multiple agencies reached out to Mercer Biotech, demanding a stake.
By the end of the week, Evan had grudgingly signed over a portion of shares, ensuring that those in power wouldn't try to bury his company before it even got off the ground.
In his office, he read over the final contract, where the remaining 16% of Mercer Biotech was now distributed among the highest-ranking elites in America.
He had anticipated this.
It was inevitable.
Amelia entered the room, holding a document. "The government got what they wanted. But you know this isn't the end of it, right?"
Evan smirked, leaning back. "Of course it isn't. They got their shares, but they don't have me."
She studied him carefully. "You're still disappearing from the public eye?"
He nodded. "For now. But you'll still be in contact with me."
She sighed. "You love playing games, don't you?"
Evan's smirk widened. "It's not a game if you never lose."
By morning, Mercer Biotech's shares had been officially distributed, the government stake secured, and the undercurrents of power were already shifting.
And Evan Mercer?
He had disappeared from the public eye.