Chapter 6 : Reputation Ruin
1422 Words
"What is that? Turn off the screen! Now!" Julian screamed in a shrill voice that shattered the ballroom's silence.
His face, which had been full of triumph, now turned deathly pale. He tried to run toward the stage operator, but his steps were halted when Stefano grabbed his suit collar with one hand. Stefano's strength far exceeded what Julian remembered from a month ago.
"Why the rush, Julian?" Stefano whispered right into the man's ear. His voice sounded incredibly calm, almost like a deadly rustle of wind. "The party has just begun. Don't you want to see the results of your hard work all this time?"
On the giant screen, the complex graphs began to be replaced by transfer order documents. Julian Oldenburg's name was clearly displayed there. There was a fund flow of ten million dollars from a secret Vane Group account to an account in the Cayman Islands.
"That's fake! That's manipulation!" Elara shouted while slamming the main table. "Security! Why are you just standing there? Arrest this thief!"
Two large guards stepped forward, but Stefano only stared at them with his golden-hazel irises flashing sharply. The atmosphere around Stefano seemed to tense up. The guards hesitated, their steps halted by an aura of dominance they had never felt before.
"Fake, Madam Elara?" Stefano released Julian, who now fell sprawled on the floor. "Please check the bank reference numbers directly. My system is connected to the central banking server. The data is updated every second."
Vivianne stepped forward, her hand holding the remaining glass shards trembling violently. Her eyes stared at the screen, then at Julian, who was still crawling on the floor. "Julian, is this true? The company money that went missing last month—you said it was because of an investment mistake in the European market."
"Vivianne, listen to me," Julian tried to reach for Vivianne's legs, but the woman dodged with a growing sense of disgust. "He hacked the system! He made up those numbers to destroy me! You know I love you!"
Stefano chuckled. The sound of his laughter was very dry. "Love her? Oh, let's see just how great your love is, Julian."
Stefano pressed the button on his watch again. The screen changed once more. This time it wasn't numbers, but a crystal-clear voice recording.
Don't worry, darling. Once I get Vivianne's signature for the final asset transfer, I'll divorce her. That woman is too arrogant; she thinks I actually enjoy catering to her sky-high ego.
That was Julian's voice. And the woman's voice responding was not Vivianne's, but the voice of Cindy, Vivianne's own youngest sister.
Cepatlah, Julian. Aku sudah muak melihat wajahnya setiap hari. Aku ingin kita segera pergi dari sini dengan uang itu.
All the invited guests gasped in unison. The atmosphere, which had been full of insults for Stefano, now turned into a storm of anger directed at Julian and Cindy.
Vivianne turned toward her sister with a look of disbelief. "Cindy? You?"
Cindy, standing beside Elara, suddenly went weak. Her face turned white as paper. "Vivianne, that's not me! He edited my voice!"
"Shut up!" Elara screamed. She delivered a hard slap to Cindy's cheek until the girl fell to a sitting position. The Vane family's pride was shattered in front of hundreds of business colleagues.
Julian, feeling he had no way out, suddenly rose with eyes red with rage. He pulled a small knife from inside his suit—a decorative cigar cutter—and lunged at Stefano.
"Die, Stefano!" Julian roared.
[Warning: Physical threat detected] the system's voice echoed in Stefano's head. [Activating Neural Analysis mode. Time is slowing down in your perception.]
The world around Stefano seemed to stop moving. He saw Julian's movements in extreme slow motion. He could see the beads of sweat falling from Julian's temple. He saw the direction of the blade aimed at his stomach.
With a very slow but effective movement, Stefano simply shifted slightly to the side. He caught Julian's wrist, then pressed it on a specific nerve point guided by a blue laser beam on his retina.
The sound of a shifting bone was clearly audible. Julian screamed in pain as his knife fell to the floor.
Stefano didn't stop there. He delivered a short punch to Julian's solar plexus, sending the man flying backward and smashing into the buffet table until it shattered.
"Julian!" Elara screamed, but she didn't know who to help.
Stefano stood tall, adjusting his suit button which was slightly askew. He looked around the room.
The guests who had been laughing at him earlier now bowed their heads, not daring to look into those golden-hazel eyes.
"Who is the trash now, Mr. Oldenburg?" Stefano asked in a cold tone.
Julian coughed, fresh blood seeping from the corner of his lips. He tried to speak, but the pain in his stomach made his voice nothing more than an indistinct groan.
"Vivianne," Stefano called out.
The woman turned. Tears flowed down her cheeks, which she used to hold high and full of arrogance. "Stefano, I didn't know."
"You knew, Vivianne. You were just too blinded by your ego," Stefano stepped closer, making Vivianne back up until she hit the wall. "You threw me away because I was poor. You insulted me because I had no status. Now, look at the man you chose as my replacement. He didn't just betray you; he was also preparing to make you a vagrant, just like you did to me."
"Forgive me," Vivianne whispered hoarsely.
"Forgive?" Stefano smiled thinly. "Your apology won't bring back the two years of my devotion that you trampled on. Your apology won't erase the coldness of the sidewalk that night."
Suddenly, the sound of police sirens was heard from outside the building. Several hotel security officers, who had actually been ordered by Damian DeVille, entered the room.
"Mr. Julian Oldenburg, you are under arrest on charges of embezzlement of company funds and manipulation of banking data," the security chief said.
Julian tried to resist as his hands were handcuffed, but he was too weak. He was dragged across the red carpet, in front of the people who used to adore him.
Vivianne could only cover her face with her hands, sobbing uncontrollably on the floor that was now covered in broken glass and spilled drinks.
Stefano stared at the scene without a shred of pity. He only felt satisfaction in his chest. This was his first revenge.
However, in the midst of his victory, a sharp throb hit the back of his head again.
[Emergency Warning!] the system's voice suddenly became very loud and unstable. [External scanning frequency detected. NeuroCorp satellite has locked onto your chip's position. Pursuit units are moving toward the location within a two-kilometer radius.]
Stefano held his head for a moment. His vision shook. The blue light on his retina flashed red with the text: "TRACKING ACTIVE".
"Mr. Giroldo?" Elara tried to call Stefano, her voice now full of a pleading tone. "Perhaps we can talk reasonably about the investment..."
Stefano didn't listen. He turned toward the large ballroom window overlooking the city streets. In the distance, he saw three black helicopters without identification lights flying low toward the hotel.
"They're coming," Stefano thought.
He looked at Vivianne for the last time that night. The woman was still lying on the floor, mentally broken.
Elara stood there with an old face that looked very pathetic.
"Enjoy tonight, Vivianne," Stefano said as he began to walk toward the emergency exit. "Because starting tomorrow, your name and your family will mean nothing in this city."
Stefano ran down the emergency stairs at a speed that was nonsensical for an ordinary human. He could feel his adrenaline surging.
The real enemy had just arrived. The Vane family was just the appetizer, while NeuroCorp was the main course.
When he reached the underground parking area, his system gave another warning.
[Subject detected on the roof of the opposite building. Long-range weapon is aiming at your spinal cord. Recommendation: Immediate evasive maneuver!]
Stefano threw himself behind a concrete pillar just as a small bullet whizzed past where he had been standing, hitting the concrete wall until it shattered into pieces.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then gave a dark smirk.
"Come on, Dr. Thorne. Let's see how badly you want to take this chip back."
- Writer
