Chapter 5
1074 Words
When Eli Sinclair stepped into the Syndicate boardroom, he felt like he’d crossed into another luxury world. The door slid open without a sound and several black marble floors expanded his scrawny reflection beneath his feet.
On the walls were windows designed from floor to ceiling, revealing a wide view of the city below. Even this late, the streets buzzed with excitement. At the center of the room was a long marble table, surrounded with dark leather chairs.
Madam Noire was seated on one of them, looking at the screen of a computer built into the table where thousands of data floated across. She turned at the sound of his steps and motioned toward the seat at the head of the table.
“Sit,” she said.
Eli obeyed, lowering himself into the chair. The leather was stiff beneath his butt, nonetheless to keep him alert. Noire tapped a few commands into the computer. It responded with a soft hum, and numbers appeared in the air with glowing shapes and figures. There were investment accounts, names of companies, and offshore holdings which caught Eli’s rapt attention.
“What's this?” Eli asked in shock.
“This card,” Noire said instead, holding up a sleek black card. “now holds full access to your inheritance. In here is ten million dollars in liquid cash, full lines of credit, shares in key industries, control over multiple accounts… all of it.” She slid the card into a slot built into the table.
Instantly, the numbers shifted again, this time attaching themselves to his name.
Eli Sinclair- Shipping lines, security firms, and silent stakes in biotech startups. Some of the entries were obviously coded which clearly were not meant for the public to trace.
Eli’s heart pounded, trying to keep up with what he was seeing. He didn't notice Noire tapping a final key and the data dissolved back into the computer.
“It’s yours,” she said. Then she pulled the card free and handed it to him. “Use it wisely.”
Eli took the card. It was surprisingly light. But he could feel the riches behind it. His life in the cafe… refilling cups, fixing the same machines every week, watching the rain hit the windows… that life was no longer possible. Before he could speak, the door opened again and a tall man in a clean cut suit stepped inside. He moved slowly toward the window, casting a quick glance at Eli.
“Eli Sinclair,” the man grinned. “I’m Viktor Haines. Welcome home.”
Whatever the man thought was on his face wasn't a friendly smile.
Instantly, Eli's guard was up. “Mr. Haines,” he said, keeping his tone polite. “Thank you.”
Viktor didn’t answer right away. He stopped near the table and leaned on it slightly. “Noire tells me you’ve completed the rite,” he said. “That means you’ve stepped into more than money… you’ve stepped into legacy, power and risk.”
Eli nodded, trying not to let his nerves show. “I understand I have responsibilities.”
“Responsibilities,” Viktor repeated, half amused. “Sure. But also targets on your back. There are people waiting for you to slip. Just one mistake and you are dead.”
He tapped the table once. “You’ve got ten million dollars. That’s enough to build something, or destroy everything your name is tied to.”
Viktor narrowed his eyes. “So, Mr. Sinclair… will you float or drown?”
Eli opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Noire cut in.
“He’ll learn.”
Viktor glanced at her, then shrugged. “I suppose we all do.”
Eli stayed quiet. But inside, his mind worked. He knew Viktor wasn't referring to money. He was talking about staying alive. Just then Viktor turned slightly, glancing past Eli toward the door.
“Speaking of floating…”
As if on cue, the side door slid open again and a woman, wearing a simple blouse and fitted blazer, walked in. Her blue eyes swept across the room curiously. When she saw Eli, she gave a slight nod.
Eli flashed a smile. “Hi?”
The woman didn't smile. Instead, she walked toward the windows and paused there with one hand resting on the glass. For a few seconds, she said nothing. Then she turned and walked to the table, stopping beside him.
“Hi, I'm Layla Chen, the organisation analyst.”
“Hi–hi, Layla.” Eli stammered.
“Congratulations,” she continued. “Ten million is a nice start. But it’s not the money that matters. It’s what you do with it.”
Eli looked at her, unsure if she was offering help, or warning him.
“I just want to understand what’s behind these accounts,” Eli sighed. “Where the real power is and what the risks are. Is that too much to ask?”
Layla’s eyes didn’t move. “No, it isn't. Just listen carefully. I can show you how to read between the lines: which companies are useful? Which ones are shells, and which ones can bury you if you’re not paying good attention.”
Eli nodded. “I’ll need your help.”
“Then you have it,” she said. “But I don’t give second chances.”
Viktor stepped back from the table. “Chen will brief you in the morning. For tonight, get your head on straight. You’ll need it.”
Noire moved to Eli’s side again. Her voice was calm. “You’ve tasted what power feels like. But it can turn against you just as quickly. So… use your instincts, trust the right people, and remember that this world doesn’t care who you were before.”
Eli looked between them: Noire, Viktor, Layla, and the card was still in his hand. He slid it into his wallet. “Thank you,” he said. “I won’t waste it.”
No one replied. Except Viktor Haines who only gave him a small nod.
“Good night, Mr. Sinclair,” Viktor said. “Sleep light.”
Eli left the boardroom without another word. In the quiet hallway, he paused. His heart still beat too fast. Back then, the Syndicate probably kept tabs on him, making sure he didn't escape.
Eli curled his lips.
Unfortunately for them, they weren't the only ones keeping tabs on him.
He was in charge now.
- Writer
