Chapter 5 - The Deadline
749 Words
Veyr Group never slept.
Even in the early hours of the morning, the towering skyscraper remained alive with movement. Executives hurried through polished corridors, assistants carried files between offices, and quiet conversations followed the rhythm of ringing phones.
But on the top floor, there was silence.
The entire floor belonged to one man.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall of the exclusive CEO office, offering an uninterrupted view of Newhaven below.
The city looked small from up there.
Almost insignificant.
Standing before the glass was Zavian Veyr.
He was dressed in an immaculate black suit, the tailored fabric emphasizing his tall, powerful frame. One hand rested casually in his trouser pocket while the other held a cup of untouched coffee.
His face was almost unnaturally handsome.
Sharp features.
Dark hair perfectly arranged.
A strong jaw.
Cold eyes that seemed incapable of warmth.
There was something almost inhuman about the perfection of his appearance—and even more so about the stillness with which he stood.
He wasn't admiring the city.
He was studying it.
Behind him—
Knock.
Zavian didn't turn.
“Come in.”
The door opened.
A man in his early thirties stepped inside carrying a slim black folder.
Lucian Vale.
Zavian's exclusive executive assistant.
Lucian closed the door quietly behind him and approached the desk.
“Good morning, Mr. Veyr.”
Zavian remained facing the windows.
“Report.”
Lucian opened the folder.
“The Singapore acquisition is progressing according to schedule. Legal has finalized the remaining documentation.”
A pause.
“The Zurich account has also been resolved. The discrepancy was internal. Nothing further requires your attention.”
Zavian's expression didn't change.
“And the other matter?”
Lucian hesitated for half a second.
“Handled.”
That single word hung briefly in the room.
Zavian finally turned.
His gaze settled on Lucian.
“Completely?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Lucian closed the folder.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Zavian walked toward his desk.
He removed his watch and placed it beside the untouched coffee.
“Westbridge International.”
Lucian's eyes lifted.
“The cooperation project?”
“Yes.”
Zavian sat behind his desk.
“Who is representing them?”
Lucian glanced down at his tablet.
“We haven't received confirmation yet.”
Zavian's expression hardened.
“Why?”
“They haven't decided.”
A beat of silence.
“Probably still selecting someone suitable for the project.”
Zavian leaned back in his chair.
His fingers tapped once against the armrest.
Then stopped.
“They haven't decided?”
“No, sir.”
“And how long have they had the proposal?”
“Several days.”
Zavian's eyes became colder.
“Several days.”
Lucian nodded carefully.
“Yes.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Zavian picked up the folder lying on his desk.
He opened it.
The pages contained information about the upcoming cooperation between Veyr Group and Westbridge International.
A joint project.
A project that had already consumed more time than he was willing to tolerate.
He closed the folder.
“Give them a deadline.”
Lucian straightened.
“How long?”
“Forty-eight hours.”
Lucian hesitated.
“Mr. Veyr, Westbridge may—”
“Forty-eight.”
His voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
Lucian immediately nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Zavian's gaze returned to the windows.
“Tell them that if they cannot appoint a representative within that time, we'll reconsider the cooperation.”
Lucian made a note.
“And if they request an extension?”
Zavian's jaw tightened.
“No.”
One word.
Final.
Lucian closed his tablet.
“I'll send the notice immediately.”
“Do that.”
Lucian turned toward the door.
His hand had barely touched the handle when Zavian spoke again.
“And Lucian?”
The assistant stopped.
“Yes?”
Zavian's eyes remained fixed on the city.
“I don't like waiting.”
Lucian's expression remained professional.
“I know.”
“Then don't make me do it again.”
“Yes, sir.”
The door closed.
Silence returned to the office.
Zavian remained standing behind his desk for a moment.
His gaze drifted toward the folder marked with the name:
WESTBRIDGE INTERNATIONAL
His expression remained unreadable.
Then he picked up the untouched coffee.
It had gone cold.
He didn't seem to notice.
Outside the windows, Newhaven continued moving beneath him.
And somewhere in that enormous city, someone was about to receive a deadline.
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