Boss didn't rage. He didn't scream.
He calculated.
He waited.
Because real power isn't loud—it's silent, patient, merciless.
The first move came at 6:00 AM sharp.
A leaked financial document, revealing years of corruption in the uncle's company—embezzlement, backdoor deals, tax fraud.
It landed in the hands of the press… anonymously.
By 9:00 AM, his uncle's name trended online.
By 10:30 AM, investigators were knocking on corporate doors.
> "We have a warrant."
Meanwhile, Boss sat in his office, watching the news with his legs crossed, eyes blank. His fingers tapped slowly on his glass of whiskey as he turned to Nick.
> "Make sure the board votes him out today. No extensions."
Nick gave a cruel smile.
> "Already done. They're scared shitless."
—
The boardroom was cold, clinical.
His uncle barged in, demanding control.
> "You can't do this—I built this company!"
But Boss was already there. Sitting calmly. Confident.
> "You built a cage of lies. I'm just tearing it down."
The vote passed—unanimous.
His uncle was stripped of power.
Escorted out like a criminal.
Humiliated.
---
Outside the building, reporters swarmed him. Cameras. Microphones. Screams of:
> "Is it true you laundered money?" "What about the accusations from overseas?" "Did your nephew betray you?!"
He shoved them away, sweating, furious.
This couldn't be happening.
> "It's him," he hissed under his breath. "That boy… he's turning them all against me."
But he had no proof. Only a growing fear.
—
Later that evening, in a dark room, he opened a bottle of whiskey with shaking hands. His mansion felt… quieter. Colder.
He stared at the blank TV screen, only to see it flicker once.
Just once.
A glitch?
Or a warning?
His phone lit up.
Unknown number:
> You made one mistake. You touched what belongs to me.
He dropped the phone.
And somewhere across the city, Boss smiled.
> "You're going to lose your mind before I ever lay a hand on you."
Because revenge wasn't just destruction.
It was art.
And Boss? He was a goddamn masterpiece in the making.
—
To be continued