A vow of Violence

POV: First Person (Julian) The Thorne Corporation headquarters was a monument to ego. Fifty stories of steel piercing the London sky. I walked through the lobby wearing a suit that cost more than most people's cars-a three-piece navy blue bespoke number that emphasized the width of my shoulders. Kai walked a step behind me, carrying a silver briefcase. Security didn't stop me. They stared. The rumors had spread. The Ghost was back. I took the private elevator to the top floor. The doors slid open to reveal the boardroom. Glass walls, a mahogany table long enough to land a plane on, and twelve old men and women who controlled the British economy. At the head of the table sat my father, Lord Alistair. To his right, Harrison. Harrison looked tired. Dark circles bruised his eyes. Good. "You can't be in here," Harrison stood up, his voice cracking. "Security!" "Sit down, Harrison," I said, my voice calm, projecting effortlessly across the room. "You look pathetic." I walked to the other end of the table. A heavy-set man, Mr. Henderson, was sitting in my chair. I didn't say a word. I just looked at him. I let the silence stretch, let the predator's intent leak out of me. Henderson, a man who had broken unions and toppled governments, swallowed hard. He grabbed his papers and scrambled to a side chair. I sat down. I placed my feet on the mahogany table, crossing my ankles. "So," I smiled, looking around the terrified faces. "Who wants to tell me why our stock dropped 3% this morning? Or shall we discuss the 'Obsidian Lotus' accounts?" The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. My father's face went white. "How...?" Kai stepped forward and slammed the silver briefcase onto the table. He opened it. It wasn't money. It was stacks of paper. Logs. Transcripts. Bank transfers. "I have evidence of embezzlement, bribery of three MPs, and illegal arms dealings in Sudan," I lied. Well, partially lied. I had the embezzlement proof; the rest was a bluff. But fear makes people believe anything. "If I release this to the press," I continued, checking my watch, "Thorne Corp stock becomes worthless by lunch. You all go to prison. Harrison here..." I pointed a finger at my brother, "probably gets shanked in the showers." "What do you want, Julian?" my father rasped. He looked old suddenly. Defeated. "I want the CEO position," I said. "Effective immediately." "And?" "And I want the Sterling merger to go through." I locked eyes with Harrison. "But not with Harrison. With me." Harrison slammed his fist on the table. "She's mine! You can't just take her!" "She was never yours, brother. You were just holding her place." I stood up, buttoning my jacket. "You have twenty-four hours to draft the paperwork. Or I burn this company to the ground." I walked out. I didn't look back. Winners never do.