He dropped the pretense this time. His voice oozed arrogance and satisfaction.
“Ethan, do you see the situation now?”
“Since you’ve been wagging your tail for Selena these past two years, I’ll be generous and give you two options.”
“First, pay five billion dollar as a breakup fee and part ways peacefully.”
“Second, watch your family go bankrupt and rot in debt.”
I walked to the window, phone still in hand, my voice steady and cold.
“I choose the third option.”
“I’ll send you and the Hart family to hell together.”
He choked for a moment before snapping, his anger barely restrained.
“You— you’re insane!”
I didn’t bother listening.
The call ended with a quiet click.
I turned off my phone.
For two days, Cole Group’s shares stagnated. The online storm raged on, each headline sharper than the last. Within the company, tension rippled through every corridor; the board whispered of collapse.
Yet I remained composed. Meetings continued. Documents were reviewed. Plans were executed.
On the morning of the third day, when our losses topped one hundred billion dollar, I lifted my encrypted phone and sent a single message:
“You can begin now.”
