Gabriel stormed into Troy's penthouse office just past midnight, eyes bloodshot and fist clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He slammed the door loudly behind him, startling Troy, who was casually sipping a glass of bourbon.
"What the hell happened to you?" Troy asked, standing from the couch.
Gabriel didn't answer at first. He paced furiously across the marble floor, his breath ragged. "She embarrassed me. Troy," he growled, barely able to contain his fury. "That bitch— Vernz or something."
Troy's brow furrowed as he finally set his drink down on the mahogany table, the clink of glass on wood barely audible over the soft hum of jazz in the background. "Vernz?" he asked, his tone laced with confusion.
"She's the new CEO of Cinz," Gabriel replied, slumping deeper into the plush leather of the booth. "And she decided not to partner with us. After everything. After months of meetings, presentations, negotiations… she just pulled the plug."
Troy leaned forward, brows knitting tighter. "Wait, slow down," he said, his voice low and steady. "You're saying this… this new girl ended everything? Just like that?"
Gabriel nodded, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah. No explanation, no room for reconsideration. One email. One goddamn email. She didn't even have the decency to meet in person. Just signed off with her name—Vernz. Like it meant something."
Troy's gaze sharpened. The name was unfamiliar, but something about Gabriel's tone made it linger in the air like smoke.
"I never met her," Gabriel went on, frustration thick in his voice. "All our talks were with the former board, assistants, former team. We we were dealing with the old management. Turns out she's been running the show just a few weeks back."
Troy leaned back slowly, the gears turning in his head. "So she waited until everything was ready… then killed the deal."
Gabriel nodded again, his jaw tight. "Like it was nothing."
Troy stared at him for a long moment, then picked up his drink and took a slow sip. "Sounds like you need more than a drink, man."
Troy sighed, his fingers tapping against the side of his glass. "You need a win. A big one."
Gabriel looked up from where he sat, eyes sharp and burning. "Bigger than what Cinz can pull off. I need something that'll shut her down completely—bury her. No coming back."
Troy didn't answer immediately. He stood up, the air between them heavy with tension, and walked across the room to his desk. With a quick twist of a key, he unlocked a drawer and pulled out a thick, leather-bound folder. Its edges were worn, but the contents inside were pristine—carefully curated, quietly dangerous.
"There's a company I've been eyeing for a while now," Troy said, flipping the folder open. "Tech-based. Small footprint, but massive potential. It hasn't hit the radar yet, but when it does, it'll explode. The owner owes me a favour."
Gabriel's eyes narrowed as he approached, drawn to the folder like a shark to blood.
"If we get in now," Troy continued, "we can close a multimillion-dollar deal before you even blinks. She won't see it coming."
Gabriel stood slowly, his expression shifting from disbelief to determination. "You're serious?"
Troy nodded once. "Dead serious. I'll set up the meeting. Be ready tomorrow."
The next morning, Gabriel and Troy walked into a sleek, modern building nestled in the heart of the financial district. The atmosphere buzzed with controlled energy—glass walls reflecting the morning light, digital projections displaying real-time data, and employees in tailored suits moving with precision and purpose. Everything about the place screamed efficiency and power.
They were greeted at the entrance by a sharply dressed assistant and escorted through a minimalist hallway to a spacious boardroom that overlooked the sprawling city skyline. Floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the room in natural light, while a polished obsidian table dominated the centre. The view alone spoke volumes.
Within the hour, contracts were reviewed, negotiated, and signed with firm handshakes and measured smiles.
A multimillion-dollar partnership was born.
News outlets picked it up almost immediately. Headlines lit up across platforms: "Gabriel Denim's Sends Shockwaves Through the Market." "A Powerful Alliance in the Tech World Shifts the Playing Field." "Denim Partners With Promising Innovator in Bold New Move."
His name was trending—power. For triumph.
As they walked out of the building into the waiting sunlight, Gabriel turned to Troy, a victorious grin spreading across his face. "You saved me."
Troy clapped a firm hand on his shoulder, his expression calm but fierce. "As long as I'm breathing, you'll never fall."
But as Gabriel basked in the glow of success, Troy's mind wandered. There was something unsettling about the new owner of Cinz. Something didn't add up.
Later that evening, back in his office, Troy locked the door behind him and walked over to the bar cart in the corner. He poured himself another drink, the amber liquid catching the low light as it swirled in the glass. The city lights outside flickered against the window, but his focus was elsewhere.
He picked up the phone and dialled a private number—one few people knew he even had.
"I need a full report on Cinz and the new owner," he said quietly, his voice steady. "Everything—ownership structure, funding sources, public records, internal shifts. Don't miss anything."
There was a pause on the other end, then a quiet confirmation.
He hung up without another word, setting the phone down gently. His eyes narrowed in thought as he took a slow sip of his drink, already seeing ten moves ahead.
On the other side of the city, Kamila Vernz stood behind the glass walls of her corner office, staring out at the sun dipping below the horizon. The skyline was bathed in gold, the light wrapping the buildings in a soft glow that contrasted sharply with the ice in her eyes.
The message from her assistant still lingered on the sleek tablet in her hand.
Gabriel Denim had secured a partnership with one of the fastest-growing tech firms in the city. The deal was reportedly worth tens of millions.
She didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the tablet as she took a slow breath, her reflection in the glass staring back—calm, calculating, unreadable.
"Unbelievable," she murmured. "How did he pull that off?"
Kamila turned away from the cityscape and walked back to her desk, the sharp click of her heels echoing against the marble floor. She tapped her long, manicured fingers against the sleek glass surface, each tap a calculated beat of thought. She didn't need to ask who had made the deal happen—Gabriel Denim wasn't clever enough to orchestrate something of that scale on his own.
He had help.
And she had a very good idea who that might be.
Her phone vibrated across the desk, buzzing once before she snatched it up without hesitation.
"Chris, I need you to dig into the company Gabriel just signed with," she said, her voice crisp and measured. "I want everything—who initiated the deal, when it started, what Troy Evans' involvement was. And be discreet."
"Yes, ma'am."
That night, the city glowed beneath a canopy of stars, unaware of the quiet war erupting behind its tallest buildings.
Gabriel celebrated with champagne, laughter echoing through his penthouse as he basked in the illusion of victory. He thought he was untouchable.
Troy watched him carefully, a glass in hand, but his eyes distant—haunted by doubts he couldn't shake.
And Kamila. Sat in silence in her dimly lit office, the skyline stretched out before her like a chessboard. Her expression was unreadable. She wasn't surprised. She wasn't impressed.
She was Planning.
Waiting.
This was just the beginning.