The room was dim — the stale scent of smoke and fury clinging to its air. Glass shattered against the far wall as Valeck Veron hurled another tumbler, rage etched across his face.
"That fu****g bitch!" he seethed, pacing like a caged beast. "Marza was taunting me — again! Mocking me in front of the council like I was some pet!"
Seydon Krell, leaning calmly against the doorway, didn't flinch. He was dressed in a fitted black combat vest, a mercenary's badge clipped to his collar. The expression on his scarred face was unreadable, but his voice was measured.
"Young Lord," Seydon said, "you need to control yourself. If your father hears about this—"
"He won't give a fu**," Valeck snarled. "He's too busy playing politics while I deal with this shit."
"You lost a major contract," Seydon reminded him. "You embarrassed the Veron name. Now you want to fix it with another murder?"
Valeck spun around, his eyes bloodshot with fury. "That girl—daughter of that idiot how can't he finish his job—That fool should've check that Aven is dead or not fu**
Now she has under the Drax family's protection," Seydon said slowly. "You broke the code. Her death is not going change anything,she simply child of that fool who die by Drax family.
"I don't care about codes anymore!" Valeck roared. "Aven Drax should have died in that crash! He didn't. Fine. I'll make sure he does next time."
Seydon's jaw clenched slightly. "If you move now, Marza will cut you off. Your own sister is holding the leash."
Valeck's voice dropped, low and lethal. "Then maybe it's time someone burned the leash."
A long silence followed. Seydon finally sighed, pushing off the wall.
"Just don't drag me into a grave with you, Young Lord."
Valeck stared at the wall, the shadow of Aven Drax burned into his mind.
"I'm going to kill him," he whispered. "No matter what it takes."
Inside the towering headquarters of the Veron Family Group, the executive floor exuded elegance and dominance. The office at the end was a vision of calculated luxury — clean glass walls, minimalist steel décor, and a sweeping view of Niremo City's financial district.
At the center sat a woman, poised and commanding.
Marza Veron.
Dressed in a sharp white shirt and tailored black pants beneath a charcoal blazer, her long legs crossed with effortless grace. Everything about her was pristine — from her sleek black heels to the cold precision in her dark eyes. A beauty carved in steel.
She scrolled through a data tablet, her expression unreadable as a ping notified her of a new report. Her manicured finger hovered for a second before tapping the alert.
It was from Dr. Alaric Norr, their head intelligence coordinator.
Valeck Veron – Behavioral Incident
As she read through the contents — her brother's latest temper-fueled outburst, the broken glass, the death threats, and the mention of Aven Drax — a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"This fool…" she murmured, voice like silk laced with venom.
She set the tablet down, resting her chin on her hand.
"More mistakes, more chaos. If he keeps this up," she thought coldly, "then the board will have no choice. I'll take the head seat of the Veron Group, and no one will question it."
Dr. Alaric stood silently by the wall, waiting for instruction.
Marza broke the silence, her gaze still fixed on the skyline.
"Alaric," she said smoothly, "you don't need to stop him."
The Alaric looked up. "Ma'am?"
"Let Valeck create the incident," she said calmly. "Let him scream, rage, and burn bridges. When the time comes, we will take the right step. Not him."
She leaned back in her chair, the predator in her eyes awakening.
"After all... it's easier to take the throne when the fool hands you the knife."
Marza didn't move as she spoke, her voice cool and sharp as a blade.
"Alaric, give me a report on the Drax family's current position. What are they doing? What have you done?"
The man in the grey coat adjusted his glasses, stepping forward from the shadows near the glass wall. His presence was unassuming, but the data pad in his hand glowed like a weapon of its own.
"Madam," Alaric began, tone calm and precise, "as of now, the Drax family has not made any overt moves against us. No schemes, no retaliation. Their front remains... quiet."
Marza's brows rose slightly. She tapped her fingers on the armrest.
"Too quiet," she muttered. "Continue."
"I've already taken preemptive measures," Alaric continued, eyes locked on the data pad. "I've reached out to two of their subcontractors under the pretense of market restructuring. They've begun leaking minor inconsistencies regarding payment cycles and project timelines."
A flicker of satisfaction passed across Marza's face.
"And the public channels?"
Alaric gave a slight nod.
"We've initiated controlled rumors. Look."
He turned the pad toward her. A series of social media clips, forum threads, and anonymous posts scrolled across the screen. One headline read:
"New Railway Deal or Government Cover-Up?"
Another was even more pointed:
> "Is Aven Drax Faking His Recover to Control Billions in Contracts and not doing his work?"
The posts weren't viral yet — but they were crawling, insidious.
"It's subtle," Alaric said. "Nothing loud enough to be traced back to us. But enough to plant doubt. Within a week, the public will start asking questions on their own."
Marza leaned forward, a slow smile forming on her lips.
"Good work, Alaric."
Her eyes gleamed like steel under soft office light.
"Let them nibble at the Drax family's pride. We don't have to strike yet. Let them drown in whispers first."
Persent!
After the Presentation
The projection dimmed.
The conference room was silent—electrified by the sheer magnitude of what they'd just seen. Aven, without waiting for anyone to ask further, reached into his coat and pulled out two sleek black USB drives.
He walked over to Darion and Varek.
"These are for you," he said simply. "Everything I just showed—the tech blueprints, system integrations, raw specs. All of it's in here. You'll know how to move forward."
They stared at him like they'd just glimpsed the future.
"You trust us with this?" Darion asked, almost skeptically.
"You're family," Aven replied. "And we don't have time to waste."
With full spirit Darion and Varek said,you do not have say we are going to put all are focus and strength in this.
He gave a slight nod to his father, then turned and exited the room with Robert Kaess walking a step behind.
---
Scene Transition: Minutes Later – Still Inside the Drax Headquarters
The doors had barely shut behind Aven before another man entered silently—his movements sharp and precise, like a shadow in motion.
William Nruka — the black-suited figure who had stood in the corner earlier — stepped forward.
Kaelion Drax turned to face him.
"William," he said. "Your thoughts?"
William's face remained unreadable, his hands clasped behind his back.
"If this project is executed perfectly," William began, "we won't just control industry zones… we'll gain enough traction to secure a seat on the Council."
Kaelion's eyes narrowed slightly. The Council—long out of reach for even the Drax family—was the ultimate political playing field.
William wasn't done.
"And one more thing," he added, his tone low but clear, "The young master..."
Kaelion looked up, waiting.
"He's walking the same path you once did, Master Kaelion. But faster. Sharper. With less mercy."
A silence settled in the room—heavier than before.
Kaelion turned toward the city skyline, his voice barely above a whisper:
"Let's hope he survives it better than I did."
Let's hope he will be not like me ?