Chapter Seven.

1354 Words
~Alistair’s POV~ (Three Days before Sienna's accident) “Please, Mr. Kincaid. I have a family.” Thomas Miller crumbles in front of me while I check my watch. I have a meeting by noon. Damn, he is wasting my time. I look at this pathetic excuse for a man who once believed that he was some big-shot CEO, who woke up this morning thinking today would be like any other day. That he'd waltz into his office, bark orders at his secretary, maybe close another deal before lunch. He was wrong. Because right now, he looks like he's about to piss himself in that expensive suit. “We all have families, and you should have thought about that before involving yourself with the Ashfords, Thomas.” My voice comes out flat. Devoid of emotion. I don't shout. I don't need to. Men like me—we don't raise our voices to get things done. But when we do raise our voice? Well. Let's just say it's already too late for the victim by then. The color drains from his face so fast I can practically watch the realization sink in. His comfortable life is over. Has been over since the moment I walked through his door. “That…was fifteen years ago,” he stammers, and I can see the sweat beading on his forehead. “I was just a junior partner back then. I didn't—” “You brought the papers and made my mother sign them." The metallic click and clang sound of my lighter fills the office as I flip the cap of the lighter open and close while sitting on Mr miller's CEO seat in his office. “You took away my childhood. So now? I'm taking away your life's work.” He shoots to his feet, lunging for me. His hands trying to reach for my collar like he thinks he can intimidate me. Like he thinks his reaction will change anything. Dante, my friend and head of security who has been standing behind him shoves him back into his chair with the kind of casual force that makes it clear how little effort it would take to do real damage. “You can't do this, Kincaid!” “It's already done.” I say as I wave my hand at Vivian, my friend and lawyer without looking away from Thomas. She has been standing behind me this whole time enjoying the show. She steps forward with her lips curved into a smile that makes me think of sharks circling their prey in the water. “The acquisition is complete, Mr. Miller.” She says as she drops a massive file on the table. “Kincaid Holdings has just acquired fifty-one percent of your shares. As of three minutes ago, actually.” Three minutes. That was all it took to ruin his entire empire. “We're stripping everything to cover your debts, She continues.” The logistics division? Gone. Everything else gets sold for scraps” Thomas tries to stand again. He has forgotten Dante is standing right behind him. Or maybe he just doesn't care anymore. Desperation makes people stupid. Dante's grip tightens on his shoulders. He looks up, sees Dante's expression, that 'don't you f*****g dare' look. Whatever fight he had left dies right there. I stand and smooth down my suit jacket. “Get him out. And if he tries to take anything, even a paperclip, arrest him for theft.” Dante nods. He grabs Thomas by the arm. “Kincaid please! I will do anything!” Thomas begs as Dante drags him towards the door. Dante smirks and keeps dragging the begging man out of the office, and I turn away after the door shuts behind them. I should feel something, right? Victory? Satisfaction? Some kind of rush from watching a man who destroyed my family lose everything? But there's nothing. Just this cold, empty feeling that has become way too familiar. Like I'm watching myself from outside my body, going through the motions of revenge without actually experiencing it. I move to the windows. The rain falls mercilessly against the glass. Perfect weather for destroying someone's life, I guess. Vivian comes and stands next to me. We both stare out at the storm, listening to the rain drumming against the glass. The office is quiet except for the sound of the rain and the Click and Clang sound of my lighter. “One down, Alistair,” Vivian says after a minute. “It's been ten years now, You should really think about finding happiness now.” Happiness? I scoff internally. That’s a luxury for men who haven’t spent fifteen years in the dark. “It still feels like yesterday.” I watch the rain. “I'll make each and every one of them pay with their blood." The office door opens. I know the heavy footsteps. It is Dante. He and Vivian are two among the most important people in my life who have the courage to step into my space unannounced. He joins us at the window. “Miller is with security.” “Good.” Vivian who was scrolling through her tab when Dante walked in stops with a mischievous smile on her face. “Alistair, look at this.” ‘What is it now?’ She holds the screen up to my face. It is a photo. A blurry shot taken from a distance. It shows Vincent Ashford at an airport, kissing a woman. “What's the status of the hold on the shipment?” I ask Dante, still studying the photo. “Our team at IronClad is blocking it.” I nod. Good. “My source says Ashford filed for divorce this afternoon,” Vivian adds. “He is cleaning house now that his lover is back.” I make a sound. It might be a laugh, but it is cold and dry. I turn away from the window and sit behind the desk. My desk now. For the first time all day, I feel a spark of interest. “His wife,” I say, leaning back on the chair. “Do we have a name?” “I thought you didn't care about Vincent Ashford’s wife,” Vivian says. “I didn't. But I do now.” I look at them. “As his wife, she should have a little knowledge about the skeletons in Ashford's closet.” I need to find her. “A woman scorned by a man like Vincent Ashford?” I say. “That is the most dangerous weapon in the world.” “I will get on it,” Dante says. “You?” Vivian raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you handle intel? Stick to breaking things, muscle-head.” They are at it again. “I prefer whatever works faster,” Dante crosses his arms. “Fine.” Vivian straightens her blazer. “How about a bet? We both look for Ashford’s wife. Whoever finds her first wins.” “Wins what?” “Bragging rights. What else?” Dante considers this. “For how long?” “A month.” “Three months.” “Two.” “Deal.” They shake on it, and I swear I can see the competitive fire lighting up in both their eyes. “I will have her name by tomorrow morning,” Vivian says to me, already grabbing her tablet and walking towards the door. “I'll have her name by tonight,” Dante counters, following her. “In your dreams.” And just like that they are both gone, leaving me alone. I flip the cap of the lighter between my fingers, enjoying the sound that somehow manages to bring a sort of calm. Ten years. Ten years of planning, scheming, building my empire from nothing while the Ashfords lived in luxury built on my family's misery. Thomas Miller is off the list. And Vincent Ashford is next. His wife? She might just be the key to destroying him completely. I put the lighter in my pocket. One down. So many more to go.
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