A DEAL WITH THE BOSSY BILLIONAIRE

Hell Mary

Dr. Frank POV

The air in the dimly lit conference room was as cold as the holographic images flickering before me, their blue light casting ghostly shadows on the walls. The eight board members of BPO stood like translucent specters around the table, the static of their projections only adding to the tension. Each face, a testament to their respective power, hovered ominously in the room. But the real force was seated at the head—Mrs. Chandler herself. Physically present, her eyes bore into me with a piercing intensity that made my skin crawl.

I stood stiff, hands clasped behind my back, waiting for the inevitable. I knew what was coming. They all did.

"Dr. Frank," Mrs. Chandler’s voice sliced through the thick silence, sharp and unforgiving. "Proceed with your update."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. The holographic faces flickered with expectation. This was the moment of truth, and I couldn’t afford to falter.

"As you requested, Mrs. Chandler, the latest clone—Sia 3.0—has stabilized," I began, my voice steady but laced with strain. "There were complications. Cellular degradation was worse than expected, but we’ve managed to counter it with an experimental compound. She’s recovering, but her condition remains... delicate. We’ll need more time to ensure her long-term viability."

The words felt heavy in my mouth. This was not what they wanted to hear.

"How delicate?" Mikhail Romanov’s cold Russian accent crackled through the hologram, his form slightly distorted as he leaned forward. The Chief Operations Officer of BPO, Romanov was known for his ruthless efficiency. "Is this another failure, Doctor? Or just another delay?"

I could feel their eyes on me, burning with scrutiny. "Not a failure," I said quickly, "but we need more time to—"

"Time?" Ariane Koval, the Chief Financial Officer, interrupted, her voice dripping with contempt. "How much more time are we expected to waste on this experiment of yours? BPO has already poured billions into this project."

The tension in the room thickened as the holograms flickered, each member exchanging terse glances. But it was Mrs. Chandler’s reaction I feared most. I dared a glance at her. She hadn’t blinked.

"We’re not here to discuss finances, Ariane," Mrs. Chandler said coolly, her eyes still locked on me. "Dr. Frank, is the clone alive?"

"Yes, ma’am," I replied, nodding. "Her vitals are stable. We’ve initiated the regenerative protocols, and—"

"You don’t have time," she cut me off, her voice hardening. "You have a deadline. There will be no more delays. No more excuses."

My heart sank, but I kept my expression neutral. I knew what was at stake—everything. This wasn’t just about science anymore. It was about legacy, about power. Mrs. Chandler’s grandson needed a perfect bride, and I was expected to deliver a clone capable of love, capable of bearing children, capable of ensuring the next generation of their twisted lineage.

"Of course, Mrs. Chandler," I said, nodding, even though my throat felt tight. "We’re preparing for the emotional conditioning phase now. The subject will be ready to bond."

"Good," she said, her tone softening into something more dangerous. "Because if she can’t bond with the intended target, all of this will have been a waste. And I do not tolerate waste."

The board members remained silent, their flickering forms adding to the eerie atmosphere. Each of them represented a pillar of power within BPO, and each of them had their own vested interests in the project’s success. Failure was not an option—for any of us.

Just as I prepared to continue, a voice interrupted, low and oily. It was Benedict Kaine, the Chief Intelligence Officer, his hologram shimmering as he leaned forward. He always had a way of sneaking into a conversation, his presence unsettling.

"Speaking of delays," Kaine said, a hint of malice in his tone, "there’s been a breach, Mrs. Chandler. Someone within our organization has accessed restricted data. Specifically, clone data."

The room went still. My pulse quickened. Who would be foolish enough to—

"Who?" Mrs. Chandler asked quietly, her voice colder than before. When she spoke like that, it was worse than if she had shouted. Deathly calm, like the silence before a storm.

Kaine’s lips curled into a smile. He nodded toward an unseen figure off-screen, and moments later, a new hologram materialized in the center of the room. Charles Welling, the Chief Technology Officer, stood trembling before us. His face was ashen, his eyes wide with fear.

"He was caught accessing classified BPO files," Kaine continued, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "It seems Mr. Welling here was planning to sell our research to an external party."

A ripple of cold disdain swept through the board members. I could feel the weight of their collective anger pressing down on the poor man. I’d never seen him like this, terrified and desperate, and yet, I had no sympathy.

Charles stammered, his words coming out in a frantic rush. "Mrs. Chandler… please… I didn’t—"

Mrs. Chandler raised a single finger, and the room fell silent. "Benedict," she said softly, "prepare to deal with Mr. Welling."

Kaine’s grin widened, and my stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to come.

Within seconds, the real Charles Welling was dragged into the room. His face was pale, and his body shook uncontrollably as two guards forced him to kneel before Mrs. Chandler. I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to.

"Charles," Mrs. Chandler began, her voice icy and detached, "you’ve betrayed me. More importantly, you’ve compromised the future of this project." She rose slowly from her chair, her towering presence casting a shadow over him. "And you know how I deal with betrayal."

The room was deathly quiet as one of the guards unsheathed a blade. It gleamed under the soft, sterile light, its sharpness undeniable. In one swift motion, the guard severed Charles’s right hand from his wrist. Blood sprayed across the floor, and Charles let out a guttural scream that echoed in the cold room. I winced, my heart racing, but I remained still.

The board members didn’t flinch. This was routine for them, a gruesome reminder of what happened to those who defied BPO.

Mrs. Chandler stepped closer to Charles, looking down at his writhing form. "Let this be a lesson to the rest of you. There is no room for disloyalty at BPO."

The guards dragged Charles away, his sobs growing fainter as he disappeared from sight. The blood on the floor, however, remained, a dark reminder of the price of betrayal.

Mrs. Chandler turned her attention back to me, her expression as unreadable as ever. "Now, Doctor," she said softly, "be a darling and make sure your project falls in love and weds my grandson. Or you will lose more than just your hands."

I nodded stiffly, feeling a cold sweat break out on my skin. "Understood, Mrs. Chandler."

Without another word, she strode out of the room, her heels clicking against the hard floor, leaving behind a silence so thick it was suffocating. One by one, the holographic board members flickered out of existence, their judgments made, their roles in this twisted game played out for now.

I was left standing alone in the room, staring at the bloodstain on the floor. The weight of her words echoed in my mind, a cruel promise that hung over me like a guillotine waiting to fall.