Philip walked quickly down the long hallway with sharp and confident steps. His suit was crisp, his face calm, but his heart beat faster. He reached Raymond's office, knocked once, and stepped in without waiting for a reply.
Raymond looked up from a document he had been reading.
Philip spoke, trying not to sound too eager.
"Sir, we have it," he said, slightly out of breath.
Raymond, seated behind his grand desk with a tablet in hand, looked up, calm as always.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"Sasson Group," Philip said quickly. "They've placed the highest bid. $2.7 billion. The others weren't even close."
Raymond raised an eyebrow. "So soon?" he said slowly. "So they were waiting for this sale."
He leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. "Strange… I never even knew Sasson had that kind of liquid capital. That's a huge buy."
Philip smiled faintly, keeping his voice measured. "I was surprised too, sir. But apparently, their fashion line in the global market has been booming. They've got the funds, on paper, at least."
Raymond let out a low breath. "Sasson Group," he muttered to himself. "Clever snakes."
There was a long pause.
Then, finally, Raymond stood up and walked over to the window. He stared out at the city, one building at a time.
"All right then," he said. "Get the paperwork ready. We'll do the signing in a few hours."
Philip nodded. "Yes sir."
Raymond turned around slowly, locking eyes with Philip.
"And Philip…" he said, voice low but firm. "Make sure there are no mistakes. Every single line. Every number. Every name. I want the documents to be flawless."
Philip gave a short bow of the head. "Definitely, sir. I'll make sure everything is perfect."
Raymond didn't reply. He just turned back toward the window, never noticing the shadow that flickered briefly in Philip's eyes.
*****
Meanwhile…
Alex was taken.
His hands were bound tightly behind him, ankles too. His head was covered with a dark cloth bag that made breathing feel like drowning. He couldn't tell how long he had been unconscious, or how long they'd been moving him. The floor beneath him was cold, maybe concrete. Damp.
He struggled, grunting, "Help! Somebody help me!"
Suddenly, SPLASH!
A bucket of cold water hit his face.
Then, SLAP!
A hand landed hard across his cheek.
"Shut up!" a deep voice barked. "You talk again, I break your teeth!"
Alex gasped, panting. "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Please… I'm not the one you're looking for!"
Silence. Heavy footsteps paced around him. The smell of sweat, rust, and something chemical filled the air.
Then another voice came.
It was different. Cold. Slow. It spoke with quiet power.
"Alexander Stone... trained directly under Raymond Carter, aren't you?"
Alex froze. His voice dried up.
He tried to calm his breath, but his lungs wouldn't listen. His heart was slamming against his chest, panicked and disoriented. He could hear the faint drip… drip… drip of water leaking somewhere behind him.
And slow footsteps circling him like a predator. He shifted his bound wrists slightly, testing the rope. No way.
How long had he been here?
Was it night? Was he underground?
The cold voice continued. "I believe you were warned to stop. But you didn't. That makes you a liability, Mr. Stone. And liabilities must be… removed."
Alex shook his head under the cloth. "Please… I'll stop. I swear. Whatever you think I did, I'll stop it. I won't say a word."
"It's too late now."
The words pierced through Alex's chest like ice. He tried to breathe. Tried to think. Tried to figure out how this had spiraled so far.
All he could do was pray.
He didn't just pray to escape. He prayed that Raymond wouldn't sign. That someone, anyone, would see the truth before it was too late.
He knew what was coming.
The trap was set.
And time was running out…
*****
The heavy wooden doors of the conference room closed slowly behind Philip as he entered, a file tucked securely under his arm. The room was silent, too silent. The air inside felt tense, thick with importance. This was the moment they had all been building toward.
Seated across the long polished table was Alaric Thorne, the chairman of Sasson Group. He had sharp eyes and silver hair. He sat with perfect posture, dressed in a deep navy suit, his fingers lightly tapping the table's edge as if he were counting seconds.
Alaric stood the moment he saw Raymond Carter walk in.
"Raymond," he said with a cool smile, extending his hand. "I wasn't sure you'd go through with it. Honestly, I doubted it."
Raymond shook his hand firmly, but there was no smile on his face. "Business is business, Alaric. I don't make decisions with emotion. That's how I built ADIG into what it is today."
"Fair point," Alaric said, nodding with admiration. "There's a lot of good talk about you out there, Raymond. Word is, you never miss. It's good you made this call, wise, even."
Raymond gave a small smirk. "Let's not pretend this was all noble and accidental, Alaric. You were waiting. You were just one board vote away from swooping in."
Alaric chuckled. "Who hates opportunity, Raymond? I only did what any serious businessman would. You left the gate open. I simply walked in."
He reached forward and patted the file placed before him. "Let's not waste time with too much talk. Shall we get to it?"
The folders had already been carefully arranged. One in front of Alaric. One in front of Raymond. The legal team had double-checked every word. All that remained now were the signatures.
Alaric flipped open his copy, took out a silver pen from his jacket pocket, and without hesitation, signed his name. He then reached across the table and signed Raymond's copy as well.
He slid both files toward Raymond.
"Your turn," he said.
The room went quiet again. Everyone watched.
Raymond stared at the document in front of him, the official agreement for the sale of ADIG Construction, a company he had poured decades of his life into. The ink from Alaric's signature was still fresh. Just one more signature and it would all be over.
He was twenty-nine again, standing outside a run-down warehouse with nothing but a pencil, a dream, and a promise to his mother. "One day," he had told her, "people will know that name, ADIG. They'll respect it."
He remembered pouring concrete with his own hands. The first staff he hired. The late nights.
And now?
Now he sat in a glass tower, about to sign away the beginning of everything to a man whose smile never reached his eyes.
His fingers hovered above the paper.
He picked up the pen.
His hand trembled.
The room suddenly felt colder. Or maybe heavier. He blinked as if trying to clear a fog from his eyes. This wasn't just any contract. This wasn't just another business move.
This… was everything.
"This is a $2.7 billion deal. The board has voted. You have no reason to delay."
But his gut whispered something else: Something's not right. Not yet.
Still, his fingers moved.
He uncapped the pen.
He raised it over the signature line.
This was it.
"..."