Damien concluded the meeting with lethal finality. "Just as you said, Mr. Jung, we are going to fish them all out and feed them to the dogs."
A visible tremor of fear and confusion rippled through the room. The air grew thick with frantic murmurs, yet no one dared to speak up directly until a senior board member, Man #3, finally broke.
"What do you mean by that?" he stammered, while the man beside him, Man #2, began to rant. "You can't just sit here and spit out rubbish like you've been here since the beginning! We built this before you were even born!"
Damien let out a contemptuous sigh. "Hmph," he snorted, leaning back in his leather chair. "And who told you that I can't do it just because I've recently taken the helm? You are all old enough to pass your shares to your heirs. If you had any worth passing to, that is."
Man #3 hissed in disbelief. "Don't be ridiculous!"
Damien's voice dropped, cutting through the noise like a razor. "Oh! I forgot. You don't have a responsible heir. You sold out your own children years ago in exchange for liquid capital to buy more shares, isn't that right?"
The room turned on the targeted man instantly. Scornful whispers filled the space as the other members gossiped about the dark history he had with his own family.
Damien slammed his fist on the table, demanding silence. "No matter how many shares you hold, you will never get a grip on this empire. Get that into your fatty old brain. Either keep quiet or get out for good. In fact, if I discover you are one of the moles, I will personally feed you to a dog infected with rabies."
The threat was effective. The man paled, looking thoroughly ashamed, and sat down quickly. The room fell into a terrified hush.
"Mr. Jung—how long have you been a shareholder?" Damien asked suddenly.
"For about ten years, sir."
"Hmmm. Don't call me 'sir.' I'm a son to everyone here; no one is younger than me." He offered a fleeting, cold smile that looked more like a warning.
Sean cleared his throat to maintain the silence.
"This is my order," Damien continued. "I can't guarantee anyone's safety. Starting next week, there will be full forensic inspections." He paused, watching the murmurs begin again. "Don't worry about the stocks. Nothing is permanent. This 'cleaning' will last as long as it takes. Consider it dusting the house before I truly move in."
Without another word, Damien stood. Everyone in the room rose and bowed as he walked out, his presence lingering long after the door closed.
AT THE DAMIEN MANSION
After the hectic day, Damien retired to his private mansion on the outskirts of the city. It was the only structure on a vast, rolling landscape, hidden from prying eyes. This wasn't the family estate; this was a sanctuary built to his specific, modern ideas. It was a place where only the worthy were invited. Not even his twin or his younger brother had free access to this house—only Sean, Mrs. Kate, and his elite bodyguards. Even Aiden had never seen this side of Damien's life; this mansion was a monument to total privacy.
He headed toward the grand staircase. "I will prepare your dinner to be served by 8 PM, sir," Mrs. Kate said, bowing respectfully.
Damien could tell she was surprised to see him. Even Sean hadn't known he planned to stay here tonight. "Just tell her to make something simple, Sean," Damien called out over his shoulder. "I'm heading to the club tonight."
"Okay, sir," Sean replied, quickly catching up to Mrs. Kate in the kitchen.
"How was today?" she asked softly.
"Pressure everywhere," Sean sighed. "The police investigation into that shipping scandal led straight back to one of the subsidiary companies. He's been worried ever since."
"No more talking. The clock is ticking," Sean cut himself short, glancing at his watch. "He wants something light."
Mrs. Kate nodded. "I'll get on it. Who would have wanted to collapse everything we've built for years? It was overlooked for too long."
Sean leaned against the counter. "Exactly. And you know how he is—once he senses a threat, he doesn't stop."
Mrs. Kate smiled. "Will you be staying for dinner too?"
"Are you off work now?" Sean teased.
"Yes, I am. Don't you know? As soon as he arrives here, he stops giving me orders and only takes the guards when he goes to his personal spots," he explained.
"Oh, I see. Then go eat at your own house! Why should I cook for you?" Mrs. Kate joked, frowning playfully.
"Ahhh! Please, Mrs. Kate! I'm too lazy to cook tonight. Please!"
"Alright, alright—I've heard you," she laughed, beginning to prep the vegetables. As Sean started to walk away, she called him back. "Err—Sean? Have you... have you heard from Aiden?"