Boundless Chains

Part Three

Dark clouds gathered over Blackreach, casting an oppressive gloom that seeped through the windows of the boardroom at Lovell Corp's headquarters. The room was dimly lit, the fluorescent lights casting an unforgiving glare over the glossy table where the board members sat, their eyes nervously flicking between each other and the man at the head. Maxwell Lovell, tall and lean, lounged with the kind of practiced ease that spoke of self-assured power. His neat, blond hair and piercing green eyes gave him a look of refined cruelty, and the silence in the room was thick, as though everyone feared a single word might set him off.

Maxwell's fingers drummed lightly against a closed file folder in front of him, the faint rhythm breaking the stillness. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, dangerously controlled. "So," he murmured, flipping the file open with a casual flick of his wrist, "Wren Mercer is dead. And with him, his little empire."

Across the room, Damian Knox leaned against the wall, half in shadow, a looming presence that could easily be missed if one wasn't paying attention. His eyes, dark and unreadable, slid over the room, taking in the subtle body language of those seated at the table, the tension evident in every clenched jaw and averted glance. When Maxwell opened the file, Damian's gaze flicked, almost absentmindedly, to the document within, catching sight of a familiar name: Lucinda Mercer.

A board member, his nerves betrayed by a slight tremor in his voice, spoke up. "If the Mercer Conglomerate falls, we could—expand operations in that territory, perhaps, but...there is...a complication."

Maxwell's fingers went still, his brow lifting. "A complication?" His tone was a knife's edge, and a smirk curled on his lips, though his eyes remained cold. "Do enlighten me."

The board member cleared his throat, fidgeting under Maxwell's scrutiny. "Wren's successor... His daughter, Lucinda, is set to inherit. She—" He cut himself off as Maxwell's mouth twitched, the beginnings of a sneer.

Maxwell's fingers clenched around the folder, his knuckles turning white. "A girl," he muttered, flipping through the pages with mounting disdain. "An assistant with no reputation, no standing. And she's somehow supposed to carry on her father's legacy?"

One of the men leaned forward, lowering his voice. "She doesn't have her father's... skills. We could handle her. Remove her from the picture, quietly."

The smirk slipped from Maxwell's face, his jaw tightening. Without warning, he reached for his glass and flung it across the table. It shattered against the wall, sending a shower of glass shards scattering across the floor. Silence fell over the room, the board members frozen in shock.

"You fools," Maxwell hissed, eyes blazing. "I don't need your advice on how to handle one little girl."

In the corner, Damian's gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene. He shifted his weight slightly, eyes lingering on the shattered glass. The room descended into murmurs once more, the men discussing plans in hushed tones while Maxwell stewed in silence.

────────────

Several blocks away, the city lights of Blackreach cast a cold glow over the office lobby as Lucinda and Ayaka gathered their things, ready to leave for the night. Ayaka, the picture of energy and innocence, struggled with her bag, and Lucinda reached over to help her, stifling a small smile as Ayaka muttered complaints about their miserable boss on the 30th floor.

"Maybe he has a secret hobby of torturing people," Ayaka whispered with a conspiratorial grin, her round eyes sparkling as she giggled. "It would explain so much."

Lucinda shook her head, a faint smile ghosting her lips. "Honestly, I'd believe it." Her voice was quiet, the kind of tone she used to avoid attention, but the warmth was genuine.

Ayaka rolled her eyes, clutching her purse. "Give me two minutes, Luci—I need to fix my makeup, or I'll look like a mess by the time we get there." With that, she hurried off to the restroom, leaving Lucinda alone in the lobby.

Lucinda glanced around, slipping her phone out and opening her favorite dating sim game. She hunched over slightly, her face partially hidden as she got lost in the bright, predictable world of romantic possibilities. It was a moment of respite, a small escape that kept her anchored amid the chaos of her life.

But her phone beeped, battery critically low, before the screen flickered off. She sighed, slipping the phone back into her pocket, savoring a last moment of solitude as she stepped outside.

The street outside the Lovell Corp building was quiet, just the sound of tires skimming over wet asphalt in the distance. A sleek black limousine pulled up to the curb, tires grinding to a halt. The back door opened, and before she could react, a pair of hands seized her, pulling her inside.

The door slammed shut behind her, and the car sped off into the heart of Blackreach, leaving the streetlight's faint glow behind.