The conference room deep inside ChronosX headquarters felt suffocating.
It was the sa table, the sa chairs, the sa walls where once they made the deals of the century, where they felt invincible and on top of the world despite being part of the ’commoners,’ the 85% of humanity who never awakened.
They always told themselves that the awakened were the new soldiers, part of the warrior class. They, part of the ruler class, were superior.
But just one group of awakened full of lively youths were enough to bring such a view into question.
The atmosphere was nothing like what it was back when Maximilian and his four cronies reveled in their triumph over Kaiden’s group. Back then, the air had been thick with perfu, cigars, champagne, laughter, and moans, each man and woman accompanied by their own favorite plaything.
But tonight, none of that could be seen. No slaves, no celebrations, no debauchery. Only cold silence. The three n and a single woman sat stiff and sour-faced:
Elise Dupré, Anton Krieger, Harold Veyne, and Lionel Hawke.
The stench of fear had replaced perfu as they listened to their boss scream like a wild boar.
"No, you listen to , you spineless bastard!" Maximilian roared into his phone. Spittle flew as his face twisted in fury. "I bought your career! I paid for your campaigns, your ads, and your entire rise to power was funded by my dollars! You don’t get to just walk away when things get tough!"
On the other end, the politician’s voice was cool. "And yet, here we are. I refuse to sink with you, Maximilian. You’ve beco too toxic. Associating with you any further would an career suicide."
"Do you hear yourself?!" Maximilian slamd the table so hard that Anton flinched. "You owe everything! Don’t think I won’t put you down personally if you turn your back on !"
"So be it," ca the sharp reply. "But I won’t be dragged into the grave with you. This is where we part ways."
*Click.*
The line went dead.
For a mont, Maximilian just stared at the phone with a quivering expression. Then the fury erupted.
He flung the device across the room, shattering it against the wall in a burst of plastic and sparks. "RAT! Worthless, gutless RAT!" His chair screeched backward as he shot to his feet, roaring incoherently, pounding his fists into the polished wood as the other four shareholders sat in tense silence.
The conference room, once a den of smug indulgence, now trembled.
"How did this happen?!" Maximilian bellowed with veins standing out across his thick neck. He slamd both fists into the polished table again, the wood groaning under the impact. "HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO ?!"
"ALEXANDRAAAAAAAA!"
Her na ripped out of his throat like a beast’s howl. The walls of the conference room seed to shiver with it, and even the hardened cronies at the table flinched.
It was her. The dumb whore who had slipped through his fingers. The woman who should’ve been broken and forgotten, nothing more than a trembling pawn. Instead, Alexandra’s tearful confession had cut through his empire like a sword. The video had gone viral within seconds. It was so well crafted with her voice shaking, her eyes red, and her words spouting ridiculous nonsense.
She hadn’t just called him cruel. She had painted him for what he truly was:
A predator.
A modern-day sex slaver.
A fattened tick who had ruined lives, scamd families, and feasted on despair.
Now, in the eyes of the public, those words clung to him like tar.
Already, his connections were pulling back, wishing to wash their hands free of this problem.
Politicians and businessn alike, one by one, began to distance themselves. And thanks to the video’s reach, it wasn’t contained to Arica. Hundreds of millions of people have watched it across the globe.
ChronosX was a global company. Their main sales ca from producing mana caras, but the porn business was picking up rapidly, gaining steam. It was a golden opportunity, they all knew it. But for their growth to continue at this rate, they needed the entire globe to be their willing viewers.
The timing couldn’t have been worse.
Just a week ago, mass dungeon breaks had left countless families grieving. Wives beca widowed, children orphaned, and neighborhoods got torn apart. The public was already bleeding, furious, desperate for soone to bla. Alexandra’s delicate face, her fragile body, her sobbing plea had given them a target to point their wrath at.
And that target was Maximilian.
He was everything the people loved to hate: ugly, bloated, rich not from valor on the battlefield but from smoke-filled rooms and contracts soaked in blood. Deals that, under Alexandra’s spotlight, no longer looked like clever maneuvering but like outright cris.
The room vibrated with his fury as he spun. "Where is she?! WHERE’S THAT DAMNED WOMAN?!" he roared with his spit flying across the polished table. "She dares to backstab ? She DARES?!"
Elise’s smooth, accented voice finally cut through Maximilian’s roaring.
"We already looked into it." Her tone was clipped and ice-cold. "Her driver and guard, the ones you insisted we keep on her so she can’t escape or give us trouble, have both disappeared; we can’t reach them. Her apartnt is abandoned. The girl seems to have vanished without a trace."
The words dropped like a hamr against Maximilian’s rotund gut.
Nobody at the table needed to say what they were all thinking. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.
Maximilian’s eyes bulged.
His massive fra shook as he jabbed a trembling finger at the dartboard hanging on a marble column, sporting Kaiden’s mug on it with many dart holes in it.
"It was them!" he bellowed with froth gathering at the corners of his mouth. "Those two-faced losers! That bastard and his ugly little bitches!"
"They always put on their smiles, their fake innocence, their good little drear act for the caras! But I see through them! They’re hiding her! They killed my n in cold blood!"
His voice broke into a higher tone as a manic edge bled through. "And I’m the criminal? ?! I never killed anyone! Never! They’re the real criminals! Murderers! Hypocrites!"
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