shawdos in suit
1134 Words
The grand conference room at Hale Corporation was filled with low murmurs, the polished floor reflecting the weight of power that sat within its glass walls. Executives tapped away on sleek laptops. Isabel, in a fitted navy-blue suit, stood near the head of the table, eyes trailing across the screen while her mind fought to stay anchored.
Her father, Victor Hale, entered with a stride of authority and clapped his hands once. Conversations died instantly.
“I want you all to meet someone,” he said, voice as smooth as polished steel. “Jeremiah Blakemore. He’ll be working with us starting today.”
Jeremiah stepped in.
The man from the café.
The one who had looked at her like he could see past every wall she’d spent years building.
He was wearing a tailored charcoal suit, no tie, hands calmly folded in front of him. His sharp jawline was unreadable, his eyes distant — the kind of presence that made people shift in their seats, uncertain if they were being watched or judged.
Isabel blinked but said nothing. Her father smiled and continued.
“Jeremiah will be helping us with internal intelligence restructuring. A strategic role, working with our cybersecurity and logistics teams.”
Isabel frowned slightly. Cybersecurity? Logistics? Since when did her father trust outsiders with that level of clearance?
Victor turned to her. “Isabel, you’ll be his primary point of contact for now.”
“Of course,” she said carefully, meeting Jeremiah’s gaze for a brief second.
Jeremiah gave a small nod. “Looking forward to working together.”
His voice was deep, even. No emotion. No charm. Just business.
The others in the room exchanged glances, sizing up the new addition. But Isabel wasn’t fooled by appearances. She could smell a fake introduction from a mile away — and something about Jeremiah didn’t sit right.
Still, she said nothing.
Her father had already moved on to the next item on the agenda.
---
Later That Day – Hallway Outside Victor’s Office
Jeremiah walked beside Isabel as they left the meeting. The hallway stretched like a spine through the top floor of the building — glass windows on one side, endless framed awards on the other.
“You didn’t mention you were working here now,” she said, voice light but guarded.
“You didn’t ask,” he replied smoothly.
She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You don’t seem like the corporate type.”
He offered her a half-smile, though it never reached his eyes. “Looks can be misleading.”
“That they can.”
They stood in silence for a moment.
Isabel took a breath. “Just don’t get too comfortable.”
“I won’t,” Jeremiah said. “I’m not planning to stay long.”
He walked away before she could question that cryptic response.
She stared after him, jaw tightening.
Who are you, really?
---
The Truth Beneath the Suit
Jeremiah stepped into the elevator and tapped his fingers against his thigh as the floor numbers ticked down. He hated lying. But he was good at it.
Working for Victor Hale wasn’t the real job.
The truth was simpler, and darker.
Jeremiah was here on a mission — one handed down directly from his stepfather, one that required him to infiltrate Hale Corporation, gather classified information, and destroy the empire from the inside.
What his stepfather didn’t know?
Jeremiah wasn’t just obeying orders anymore. He was rewriting them.
Victor Hale was no fool. He ran his company like a military operation. But Jeremiah had studied men like him before. They were too powerful, too careful — but always had one weakness.
For Victor, it was Isabel.
She didn’t know it. She didn’t even suspect. But she was the only thing Victor protected with real emotion.
And that made her valuable.
But Jeremiah hadn’t decided what to do with that value yet.
---
That Evening – Jeremiah’s Apartment
The key card slid through, and the door to his luxury high-rise apartment opened silently.
Jeremiah stepped inside and dropped his briefcase by the door. The city stretched before him in a canvas of lights and distant horns, but his focus was immediately drawn to the man sitting calmly on his couch.
He didn’t even flinch.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Jeremiah said, loosening his collar.
The man stood up slowly, stretching.
Tall. Muscular. Wearing a dark leather jacket and black boots. His head was clean-shaven, a thin scar cutting across his brow. His name was Bane — and he was Jeremiah’s closest friend, his shadow, his cleaner, and his only consistent ally.
Bane grinned. “You always keep your spare key in the same drawer. Lazy.”
“I’m predictable like that.”
Jeremiah walked to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.
Bane didn’t sit. He never did when something serious was coming.
“I don’t like this,” he said. “The deeper you go into Hale’s world, the less exit routes I see.”
“We’ve been in worse,” Jeremiah replied.
“Yeah. But not this quiet.”
That made Jeremiah pause.
Bane continued. “He knows someone’s after him. I saw two new men on the security team today. Not just muscle. Trained eyes. Watching everything.”
Jeremiah nodded slowly.
“And the girl?”
“Isabel,” Jeremiah said. “She’s sharp. She doesn’t trust me.”
Bane raised a brow. “Smart girl.”
“She’s dangerous in a different way,” Jeremiah said, setting his glass down. “Not because of what she can do, but because of what she doesn't know.”
Bane’s expression darkened. “She’s the daughter of the man we’re meant to destroy. Don’t start sympathizing.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Because sympathy is what gets men killed.”
They stood there, quiet for a long moment.
Finally, Jeremiah looked up.
“Anything from DALL·E?”
Bane pulled a folded note from his jacket and placed it on the counter.
“Encrypted. Came through the back channel.”
Jeremiah opened it and scanned the contents.
NEW DIRECTIVE:
> Hale’s next board meeting is set for Friday.
He plans to announce a new offshore expansion deal.
Secure internal files.
Priority: The Osiris Project.
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes.
Osiris.
He had heard whispers — offshore labs, secret testing, something about genetic systems. No one knew what it really meant.
But now, it was his mission.
He folded the note, set it on fire in the sink, and watched the ashes swirl down the drain.
Bane leaned against the wall.
“So,” he said, “when do we start?”
Jeremiah stared at the city lights.
“Tomorrow. But this time… we watch the girl too.”
- Writer
