Ruin.
The word that could never be removed from Hans Westerguaard's vocabulary.
He saw the world merely as his playground, and he would do anything just to amuse himself. He was a man who was raised and taught to be attached to his own self-pleasures, not that he had a teacher, his mentor was himself and himself alone. And never did he pay attention to others, especially the ones living below his shoes. It was all the luxury and the pride he could afford.
Hans always compared the business world as a pitiful flock of birds, and while he was among them, it's his game to kill one bird after the other to be the only one left flying. Soaring. Winning. Some people just want the prize, but everyone has an aggressive nature towards victory, no matter what level and no matter what method. He had his.
And that method was ruining, basically. His family had never tasted defeat before, and never did they plan to. Being the thirteenth son who was neglected, shunned and the one in the shadows, he had this unquenchable thirst for triumph, an insatiability he developed as years pass. He doesn't have the ability to win, though he still has the stronger hand to be the last one standing.
Arendelle Co's image is immaculate, pristine. That fact was widely known all over the country, perhaps even the globe. Not even the most meddlesome journalists could dig a single dirt they had no capability to find, since as long as it's under Elsa Arendelle's rule, that tidiness will always be maintained. Or so he thought.
If there was something money can buy aside material possessions, it was the loyalty of someone. Hans learned that when he met Payne for his skills in delving, and he also learned that the guy has watched many people from the top crumble within his fingertips due to the countless scandals and secrets he publicized without a care.
It seems Payne had dug way past his limitations, and Hans paid him a thousand for such an achievement. Elsa opened an opportunity and it danced right into his hands. He wanted her downfall to happen slowly, excruciatingly, he wanted to take his sweet time watching an all powerful tower collapse under his reach. One block after the other.
He eyed the phone slowly, his fingers beginning to dial a certain number.
"Hello? Payne?" He snarled.
"Oh. Hey there boss. I got what you needed."
"Excellent. Is it just as I suspected?"
"Yes, I have to hand it to you for the smarts. He used to be her secretary but he came into the position as designer in a span of... Dang, it's too quick. Not bad. But do you think this is enough dirt?"
Hans smirked, running a gloved hand on his desk to pick up a document he needed to look over.
"More than enough. Go do your thing, and I want that article published tomorrow, sharp. Make it sound like one of those slanders you expose, and play with your words nicely."
"Aye-aye."
••••
Payne exasperatedly sighs, sinking sluggishly in his office chair. His nostrils suckled the earthy whiff of caffeine from the recently refilled cup placed in front of him, his mind was debating if he should shift to decaf this week, the dark bags under his eyes were evidence enough. Shooting the half-bitten donut beside the ceramic a tempted glance, he knew his break isn't over until five minutes anyway–
"Alright people, heads down, back to work!"
"We're on a coffee break, you tyrant!" The top journalist sneers. Harsh brown eyes quickly darted to the pale greens glaring coldly into the Editor-in-Chief's soul, Payne was the only one who had the valiancy to talk this way to the woman who can make the other employees cower in fear just with the crescendo of her voice.
"Fearless as always, Madison. If it makes you happy, I'd like to discuss something with you privately," The woman smirked, "Out in the halls now, sugar."
The journalist shrugged, departing from the air conditioned room with his superior colleague. The humid air caused his skin to moisten after coming from the cold, and an irritated grumble left his throat.
The press was still just like what he could remember. The empty vending machines, the strong scent of ink, the strumming clickity-clack of keyboards, every vague detail filled his senses with irritation. Bluntly speaking, he hated this place, because it reeked of lies rather than facts. Maybe the others were just too whipped to admit it themselves.
The star journalist snapped out of his stupor when the constant sound of the chief's stilettos came to an end.
"The draft you're currently working on. Do you have it?"
Sliding the crisp paper filled with red cross-outs to her fingers, Payne nods, "Yeah. Whatever. Just revise it a bit, I had to finish it before noon so I won't have to do anything else. I want an early dismissal, I'm done for the day. I need some air."
The dark haired woman examined the submitted document for a few more moments before smirking once again.
"Good work. You are dismissed, just as you wished, to play it fair."
"Nothing's ever fair in here," Payne rolled his eyes, turning around and dragging his heels to the opposite hall leading to the press's elevator. He threw on his coat, before adding, "Westerguaard should be doubling up our check if you'd publish that in a blink of an eye."
She nodded affirmatively, doing her best to avoid his steep glare he could give her even without directly looking. But the man wasn't done talking. "You're nothing without me, sweet cheeks. Just so you know."
"I know."
Her voice was sickeningly sweet, however she was scowling this time, and Payne knew. Only he could drive her this way—but he wasn't lying anyway, something she would love to deny yet couldn't.
And so Payne left the premises hurriedly, not knowing of the lean figure behind a wall tipping over his fedora to foreshadow his wary gaze.
An amused chuckle left the stranger's mouth.
–––
"Where's Heine?"
"I told him to pick up something elsewhere, you'll know soon enough," Anna replied, not taking her eyes off of the large screen of the iMac in front of her as she scrolled continuously, "Aiden's in his office, right?"
Elsa nodded from where she sat, busily writing something down behind her laptop, "Well, yes. He doesn't get out of that shell until the next break, or possibly dismissal. Why though?"
"And you both still remember what we talked about the other day?"
"Yes, crystal clear," Elsa closed her eyes, "You really did your homework, and I must admit, you're exceedingly more observant than I am. The trait suits you, honestly."
"I like reading people, that's why," Anna smiled whilst typing, "Every new person I meet is an open book for me to look over. There are some that can be an entirely new language, but Westerguaard is no person too ambiguous. Just reading that article I'm sure he issued," Her eyes glowed, "His intentions to wreck your reputation is confirmed."
"You're scary," Elsa earnestly commented.
"Knock knock."
"Come in," The two siblings simultaneously spoke.
Heine strode past the doorway briskly, a smirk tugging on his lips as he dragged a confused designer into the CEO's lair alongside himself. "Oh, there you are Heine. Any gold?" Heine was very familiar with that term, his eyes sparkling with mirth, and Anna took that as an advanced sign that the director had done his task.
Aiden sat down on one of the couches himself cluelessly, as a very happy Elsa walked over to his side upon seeing his presence. She missed having him around in near sight, but she knew it was a small price to pay when Aiden was out there doing his passion and actually having a proper career he deserved.
"Hey," she greeted softly in a hushed whisper.
"Mmh? Oh, snowflake," he kissed her cheek, the emeralds she had fallen in love with flickering to her face endearingly, "Hi. How are you?"
Elsa likes it whenever he asks her that question. Somehow the question was a routine of theirs whenever they didn't see each other early in the morning. "I'm doing fine," she answers, "You?"
"Fine, really," Aiden shyly responded, "I mean, great, since I, uh–"
Elsa giggled at him, eyes half-lidded. She reached up to peck his nose, pausing his stammering. A furious blush now crept into his cheeks.
"... Yes. I have gotten useful information without any doubt. And as you have predicted, Mister Westerguaard had issued another article with the basis revolving around Winters and Fireheart here, surely, although I wasn't able to find out the specific topic."
"Do continue."
"The draft to be published tomorrow by the same press is under the Editor-in-Chief's possession, no longer under Payne's. I do not intend to dramatize, but anything written on those papers can cause chaos to you," Heine turned to Elsa, "Or the company, and we wouldn't have any of that now, can we?"
"Tomorrow is its publishing?" Anna gasped in disbelief, "We're running out of time then."
"Indeed we are, but there is a way to buy some. Or, we can stop Westergaard's plans."
All heads turned to Elsa's direction, most gazes surprised at her declaration. Ignoring their reactions, Elsa continued her statement, her hands on her hips.
"I have a plan of my own, and this is the only time I will use money and bribery to my advantage. Foul as it sounds, but my opponent is playing it foul as well," she smirked, "The game Westergaard's trying to play has no rules against that. It's offense versus defense."
"W-what do you mean?" Aiden nervously asked.
"We will have to pay the press a surprise visit later."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The Press | Dusk
Her fingers were threaded in his, oh so tightly, a sensation Aiden enjoyed yet as she led him from one hallway to another, he was estranged. The unsettling aura Elsa was radiating currently left him perplexed, since this was a side of hers he had never seen before. Maybe it was because they had hung around each other's vulnerability for far too long; he almost forgot she was still CEO and Chairwoman—which meant she had to play out those roles well.
The affection was still there, he could feel it from her fingertips grazing the palm of his hand, but she was quiet. Too quiet, and they were walking fast. He was getting worried. What if she was more upset than he thought she really was? What if all this time ever since she found out about the article she's been hiding her real emotions?
She finally knocked.
"Come in."
A beauty emerged from the shadows of the closed blinds by her office's window. Undeniably, the woman who could only be identified as the awaited Editor-in-Chief was a sight to behold. Her lengthy dark brown hair shaped the fine structure of her freckle-less face, and everything just seemed to compliment her hazel eyes.
Elsa glanced at the nameplate standing proudly on the woman's desk, where no sign of clutter was littered across the flawless surface.
"Good evening, Miss Delaney. Apologies for not setting up an appointment," Somewhat, Aiden sensed the tone of Elsa's words were as good as dry, "We'd just like to talk about something, that's all."
"I am wholly aware of who you both are," Talia fully exposed herself into the light, and Aiden couldn't verify if she was smiling or smirking, "However I do not know the reason for your sudden visit. Please take a seat and make yourself at home."
"While that wouldn't be necessary," Elsa coldly says, "You and Mister Payne are total associates of Hans Westerguaard, am I not correct?"
The chief's eyes widened, but not too widely. She was still calm and at ease. "Indeed we are, and I am very concerned with how you know of that confidential information. You guess your rival's tactics well, I must say."
"How I know of your relations with Mister Payne and Westerguaard is none of your business," Elsa solemnly states, "And any of my relationships are not yours to meddle with as well. I should tell you, Miss Delaney, the very thing I despise with the media is when they look at me as if I'm some money-making headline."
"No one is to blame but your recklessness, Miss Arendelle. As CEO and Chairwoman, you should know that anyone near hindsight can stir up the papers about you," Talia chuckled humorlessly, "Though I can't blame you myself. That secretary of yours..."
She steered her intrigued gaze towards Aiden, who did everything in his power to avoid her stare in discomfort. And if he had read her successfully, she was charmed by his presence.
"... Truly is something."
Elsa tightly squeezed his hand, her brows knitting as she did her best to hide her jealousy. The nerve of this woman. She had the audacity to visibly show her attraction. The tension between her and the Editor-in-Chief increased.
"I believe Mister Payne has written a yet to be finalized draft?"
"Do you have some sort of eye around this building, Miss Arendelle?"
"Again," Elsa cleared her throat, her eyes gleaming dangerously, "That is none of your business. I think you've stolen enough confidential information from us, only fair that I know some of yours," she laughed wryly, "This is a vengeful, childish game I am willing to play because I would like to buy that certain draft for a good one million."
Aiden's jaw refused to close.
$1,000,000.
Even Talia couldn't speak, as she slumped down against her chair.
"Oh? Wasn't that enough? The amount's still quite small, is it?" Elsa nonchalantly asked, "If so, name your price, Miss Talia Delaney and I'll be ready to give it. I simply need to ensure you and your star journalist will quit being of service to Westerguaard and I would like you to guarantee that when we revise the draft, we have your authorization to publish it."
Gathering her composure, the Editor-in-Chief's eye twitched in struggle. "O-one million dollars? For a paper?"
"I didn't stutter, did I?"
"What if Westerguaard is simply bluffing? He can also issue another article," Talia almost yelled in disbelief, "You don't even know the basis or the topic of the draft."
"When Westerguaard issues an article he can ask any of you to write anything but good," Elsa rolled her eyes, "So I can already guess the basis or the topic. If the odds are against me, and my words are proven false and I am fooled, then..."
Aiden's lungs refused to function for a few seconds.
"I am willing to risk the wager."
The two women stared down intensely, while Aiden awkwardly did his part to guard the door in case the brewing argument in the room attracted unwanted attention from outside. It didn't take too long for the Editor-in-Chief to concede.
"The draft is yours to take," Talia growled, "And you can rest assured that I will authorize it to be published after its revision. I want the million as a check–"
"Signed, and ready, Miss Delaney," Elsa smirked, watching as the brunette gawked at the envelope, "I am merely losing a penny, it is all yours. The draft?"
Aiden blinked as he clutched the surrendered paper tightly. Folding it, he blankly slid it in his pocket. He knows Elsa can literally have anything within the snap of her fingers, but witnessing how much she'll gamble just to get what she wants—it's almost like seeing a lioness claw on her prey.
"I think we are done here, my darling," Elsa smiled softly at the stiff man standing by the door, satisfied, "Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Talia. Until then."
Talia clenched her fists.
"Until then."
To be continued
on the next chapter...