Shadows in the corporate tower

Chapter 3

Raven's POV 

The air inside the top-floor boardroom of Crest Holdings was cold, and quiet. Outside the huge glass windows, rain washed over the city skyline, but inside, nobody was looking at the view. Ten elderly men in expensive suits sat around a long table made of polished black marble.

At the head of the table sat Raven Crest.

He didn't slouch, and he didn't raise his voice. He simply leaned back in his leather chair, his icy grey eyes moving slowly from one board member to the next. The dark suit he wore was custom-made, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders, making him look more like a dangerous predator than a CEO.

“You're telling me,” Raven said, his voice low and smooth like silk over iron, "that our international expansion delayed its timeline by three weeks because of a supply chain issue?”

A senior board member wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead. "Mr. Crest, the shipping ports in Europe experienced unexpected union strikes. It was out of our control…”

“Nothing is out of your control when you are paid eight hundred thousand dollars a year to manage it,” Raven interrupted quietly. He didn't slam his hand on the table. He didn't even blink. “If the ports close, you buy the warehouse next to them. If the workers strike, you re-route through private rails. You bring me solutions, Mr. Davis. Not excuses.”

Mr. Davis swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. “Yes, sir. It will be fixed by tomorrow morning.”

‘It better be,” Raven said, glancing down at his watch. “Because if I fix it myself, I will no longer need you to sit in that chair.”

A heavy silence fell over the room once again. This was how Raven ruled Crest Holdings. Eight years ago, when he took over the company following the sudden death of his grandfather, everyone thought he was too young to lead a multi-billion-dollar empire. They thought they could push him around. But Raven had spent the last eight years turning himself into a wall of pure stone, crushing anyone who tried to weaken his control.

To the outside world, he had everything endless wealth, absolute power, and an empire that spanned across the globe. But nobody knew the suffocating weight he carried every single day. Nobody knew about the dark secret hiding in his past, a secret that tied his family’s bloodline directly to the death of a poor, innocent man eight years ago.

A quiet knock at the door broke the tense atmosphere.

Raven’s personal assistant, Marcus, stepped into the boardroom. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, walking directly to Raven’s side. He leaned down and whispered into Raven’s ear.

“Mr. Crest, we have a situation. Your uncle, Frank Crest, just called an unauthorized meeting with three of our top foreign investors in the private lounge downstairs.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed slightly. “On whose authority?”

“His own, sir,” Marcus whispered back, his voice trembling slightly. “Our security team managed to intercept a encrypted file sent from his personal server twenty minutes ago. Frank is secretly offering those investors ten percent of our private tech shares in exchange for their backing in the upcoming board election.”

Raven’s jaw tightened. Frank Crest was his late grandfather's younger brother, a greedy, bitter man who believed he was the rightful heir to Crest Holdings. Frank had been plotting in the dark for years, trying to destroy him. Selling private company shares without board approval wasn't just a violation of company policy, it was completely illegal.

“Keep monitoring his server,” Raven ordered quietly. “Do not let him know we are watching.”

“Yes, Mr. Crest,” Marcus said, bowing his head before slipping silently out of the room.

Raven turned his attention back to the silent board members sitting before him. “Meeting adjourned. Have the quarterly reports on my desk by six.”

Without waiting for their responses, Raven stood up, buttoned his suit jacket, and walked out of the boardroom. His long strides carried him down the carpeted hallway toward his private corner office.

Inside, the lights were low, highlighting the dark leather furniture and the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rain-soaked city. Raven walked over to his glass desk, but he didn't sit down. Instead, he stared out at the flashing city lights below.

Frank was making his move sooner than expected. His uncle was getting desperate, and a desperate man was capable of doing anything, including digging into the past to destroy Raven’s reputation.

Raven opened the top drawer of his desk. Deep inside, hidden beneath stacks of financial contracts, lay a simple manila folder. It was worn at the edges, stained with age.

He reached in and pulled it out, laying it flat on the glass desk.

Written on the front of the folder were three simple words: LOCKETT, THOMAS - ACCIDENT REPORT.

Raven opened the folder slowly. Inside was a faded police photograph of a ruined tricycle sitting on the side of a wet road, alongside an autopsy report from eight years ago. Thomas Lockett-Bailey’s father had died in that crash. His former best friend, Damien, had been the one behind the wheel that night, driving recklessly after a night of heavy drinking.

Damien had fled the scene like a coward, leaving the crime unsolved. But when Damien confessed the truth to Raven days later, Raven knew the guilt belonged to him too. Damien had been driving that night because he was furious at Raven for missing their scheduled flight out of the country. A flight Raven missed because his grandfather had suddenly died, forcing him to stay and claim Crest Holdings.

For eight long years, Raven had searched for Thomas Lockett's family, trying to find a way to ease the heavy guilt rotting in his chest. And when he finally located Bailey Lockett three weeks ago, living in poverty, working endless hours, and struggling to keep her dying mother alive. He knew what he had to do.

He couldn't bring her father back to life. But he could give her ten million dollars, protect her family, and ensure she never suffered financially again.

A soft chime sounded on his desk phone, cutting through his dark thoughts. Raven pressed the speaker button.

“Speak,” he commanded softly.

‘Mr. Crest,” his driver's voice came through the speaker. "I am waiting outside Saint Jude’s Hospital as you instructed. Miss Lockett just walked out of her mother's room."

Raven held his breath, his eyes fixed on the photograph of Bailey’s deceased father. "Is she getting into the car?"

"Yes, sir," the driver replied. "She just signed the marriage contract. But... there is something you need to know."

Raven’s chest tightened. "What is it?"

"Miss Lockett didn't just sign it, sir," the driver said, "Before she handed the tablet back to me, she used her private phone to run a deep digital background search on Crest Holdings' private security servers. She completely bypassed our outer firewall in less than thirty seconds."

Raven froze.

"She wasn't just looking for money, Mr. Crest," the driver added quietly.

"She already knows who you are. And she just pulled up your private file.”