Chapter 1 : Where is he?

"We’ve been waiting too long. What does he think he is?" Mr. Donovan Creed said as he slammed the table with a force that echoed through the room.

Every person seated at the long, polished table flinched at the sound, and their attention turned to him.

"Mr. Creed, you need to calm down. I am sure he is on his way," the secretary said, standing there calmly.

"Calm down? When we talk about power and time, I know you have no business with either. People like you can afford to waste all day in one place, but not someone like us. I don’t have the luxury of patience, nor do I tolerate incompetence. We’re not here to twiddle our thumbs while he takes his sweet time," Mr. Donovan Creed snapped.

Around the table, the other executives exchanged uneasy glances. Some shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while others stared down at the documents in front of them, trying to avoid Mr. Creed’s piercing gaze.

One of the senior members of the board, a man with graying hair and a nervous demeanor, cleared his throat. “Mr. Creed, perhaps they’ve been stuck in traffic or he had to go somewhere before coming here...”

Mr. Donovan Creed looked at him, then sharply shifted his head elsewhere.

….………

The sun beat down on the sleek black Lamborghini as its engine roared through the streets of California. He sat with an air of confidence, his tailored suit hugging his athletic, finely sculpted body. His perfectly styled hair barely moved as he gazed out...

"Sir, we’re almost there," the driver said as they came to a stop at the red light.

….…………………….

"Exactly what I was saying," one man said as he adjusted himself.

"This is ridiculous. We’ve been sitting here for over an hour. I’ve got meetings lined up and deals waiting to close. How does he expect us to respect his time when he clearly doesn’t respect ours?" Mr. Henderson added.

"I have had enough," Mr. Creed said as he slammed the table again and stood up. "I will be taking my leave… I am not here to play waiting games. It’s insulting," he added.

"I’m with you, Creed. I can’t waste my precious time here," a man with an oval head said as he stood up.

….……………

"Welcome, Mr. Max Ethan Anderson," the security guard said, his voice filled with respect as he watched Mr. Anderson step out of the Lambo.

His polished black shoe hit the pavement with purpose. He adjusted his tailored suit jacket with a swift, practiced motion, his fingers brushing over the smooth fabric as he straightened his posture. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the surroundings as his bodyguards, dressed in dark suits, stepped out in unison and flanked him closely.

Immediately, the door swung open, a wave of silence fell over the hall.

Conversations halted mid-sentence, footsteps stilled, and even the air seemed to hold its breath. The towering figure of Max Ethan Anderson stepped inside, and with his arrival, the entire energy of the space shifted.

His presence alone commanded attention; every moment he exuded power.

Every eye followed him as he made his way through the company’s grand entrance.

With a glance at his cufflinks, he strode confidently with his team of bodyguards trailing closely behind him.

….……….

“Mr. Donovan Creed, I just got a message… he’s just entered the building,” the secretary stammered as he hurried behind him, a slight tremble in his voice.

Mr. Creed waved a "no, no" sign as he made his way to the door. Just as they rushed towards it, the door swung open with a quiet, deliberate creak, revealing Max Ethan Anderson. He stepped inside with a commanding presence, his face expressionless yet radiating authority. His sharp gaze scanned the room, taking in each person who had been waiting for him.

Everyone stood up almost instinctively, as if they were all pulled by an unseen force. The room fell into complete silence... eyes followed his every step. Without a word, Anderson made his way to the head of the table. He didn’t pause or acknowledge the tension. His movements were smooth and calculated, as if he had all the time in the world yet owned every second of it.

As he reached his seat, he adjusted his jacket slightly before sitting down. His mere presence was enough to silence even the murmurs. He looked up finally, and his eyes met Mr. Creed’s as he walked up to his seat.

Without a word, he stood up from his seat and walked to the large screen at the front of the room as he starred at it for a moment.

The tension in the room grew thicker as everyone wondered what was about to happen next. Almost unexpectedly, he turned to face them.

“I owe you all an apology for the delay. Please accept my apology,” he began, his low but authoritative voice accompanied by a slight bow. “But today, we will make up for lost time. Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for this company.”

Anderson's gaze swept across the room, locking eyes with every individual for a fleeting moment before resting on Mr. Creed. “However,” he said, his voice taking on a sharp edge, “not everyone in this room will be part of that future.”

The room shifted uneasily as murmurs of confusion spread across the table while everyone exchanged nervous glances. Some whispered, while others hoped for it not to be them..

"What is going on?" someone murmured, their voice barely audible in the silence.

Mr. Creed, visibly on edge, cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Can we get over this and move on to why exactly this meeting was called on a holiday? Mr. Anderson, if there is something, I suggest you—" Just as he was about to finish, Mr. Anderson raised a hand to silence him.

"I suggest you listen carefully, Mr. Creed," he said coldly and pressed a button on the screen behind him. A series of financial reports and names flashed up. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the name of Mr. Creed's company, prominently displayed in red.

"This," Anderson said, pointing to the screen, "is the partnership we can no longer afford to sustain. The connections you’ve fostered within this company have become toxic. You’ve undermined our progress, put our future at risk, and fostered alliances that are nothing short of a threat."

“What nonsense are you uttering over there? Insanely mad...” Mr. Creed's face flushed with rage as he stood up. “We cannot move forward with snakes hidden in our midst. Your influence, your partnership....all ends today,” Anderson said.

All eyes were on Creed now, his fists clenched in fury as Anderson stood there, unmoved.

“You will regret this, little boy,” he spat, pointing his trembling hand directly at Max Ethan Anderson. “Do you have any idea what it took to bring me into this company? Do you have any idea what I’ve done for this company? Go and ask your father!”

His voice grew louder, more venomous with each word. “It wasn’t just business; it was years of blood, sweat, and influence! I built this alongside him! You think you can just erase that?” His chest heaved as he glared at Anderson, his pride wounded.

“You'll never be half the man your father was!” Creed's voice shook with fury. “You don’t know what it means to run an empire!” His eyes scanned the room, blazing with anger. “You've declared war, and I hope you're ready for the fight.”

With that, he shoved his chair back. The screeching of the metal against the floor echoed in the room as he turned and stormed out, his footsteps heavy.

Two other executives exchanged glances, then, after a long, heavy breath, they stood and followed him out, their departure just as loud and defiant.

“If there is anyone else who wishes to follow them,” Anderson said sharply, his gaze sweeping the room, “do so now. I won’t tolerate distractions from here on out.”

His voice was calm but commanding, sending a ripple of uncertainty through the remaining executives. They exchanged uneasy murmurs, glancing at each other.

Mr. Henderson, after a long pause, slowly stood. His eyes scanned the room one last time before he quietly walked out.

….……………………..

Rhan’s ghetto

“Ryan, we can't keep doing this. My wedding is in 12 days,” Lena whispered, her voice trembling.

Ryan’s eyes burned with intensity as his hands slid firmly around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Damn that wedding, Lena,” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear. “We can't stop. We're addicted to this, to us.”

Before she could respond, their lips collided in a fiery kiss, their breaths mingling as if nothing else mattered. The heat between them was undeniable,dangerous and consuming.

Lena’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind screaming for reason, but her body betrayed her, melting into his touch.

Her fingers danced across Ryan's chest, tracing the hard lines of his muscles beneath his shirt. The way his hands gripped her hips sent shivers down her spine, igniting every nerve. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the moan building inside her as his lips trailed down her neck, igniting her skin like fire.

“Ta—take me, take me please!” she managed to utter the words as her body trembled with desire.

Without another word, Ryan scooped her up effortlessly, their lips never breaking contact as he kissed her fiercely. With one swift motion, he kicked open the door and carried her inside with an almost primal urgency.

He lowered her onto the bed, her body sinking into the soft sheets as she let out a gasp, pounding on the mattress with excitement, a smile curved on her lips.

Ryan stood at the edge of the bed and slowly removed his shirt, revealing his toned body, every muscle defined. His six-pack abs rippled with every breath, and the faint line of his pelvis teased just above his waistband.

Lena's eyes locked on him, and she knew it was about to go down.