Chapter 4

The door to the CEO's office was open. A man in his late fifties, Richard Summers, stood before a panoramic window, barking into his phone.

"That's right. Keep buying. Increase our short position on Deco Group to fifteen percent. Good."

He saw us and ended the call, extending a hand. "Frank Linwood. I've been hearing your name a lot lately."

I shook his hand.

His grip was unexpectedly strong. His eyes, sharp and assessing, missed nothing.

"Nice timing, Mr. Summers," I said, nodding toward the trading terminal on his desk. "Bottom fishing while they're in crisis?"

Richard laughed. "Business is war.

"Deco Group chose to cut off its own arm. They can't blame the sharks for smelling blood." He slid a formal contract across the polished desk. "Take a look."

I opened it. The key clauses were already highlighted.

[1. Full Autonomy & Independent Division. Reports Directly to CEO.]

[2. Unlimited Budget for Team Recruitment.]

[3. Commission at 200% Industry Standard.]

[4. Five-Year Vesting Stock Options, Equating to 3% of Total Company Equity.]

An offer like this was unheard of. It was a king's ransom.

"Why me?" I asked, closing the contract.

Richard took a sip of coffee. "Three years ago, you single-handedly stole my client right out from under us. I never forgot your name after that."

He leaned forward, squinting. "Frank, I'm not just interested in your sales record. I'm interested in your power, the way clients follow you, ride or die."

Emily added, "Mr. Harding called us again this morning. He's ready to sign over his entire one-hundred-million-dollar annual order to Ascend Group, effective immediately."

I grinned.

I pulled a pen from my jacket, uncapped it, and signed my name with a flourish. "Let's have some fun. Looking forward to working together."

*****

The signing ceremony was a full-blown media spectacle.

Ascend Group booked the grand ballroom at the International Convention Center and invited every major news outlet.

Under the blinding flash of cameras, Richard clapped me on the shoulder.

"I'm thrilled to announce that Frank Linwood will be joining Ascend Group as our new Vice President with full responsibility for our key accounts strategy."

The room exploded with applause.

I noticed some commercial spies from Deco Group huddled in the corner, taking pictures on the sly.

During the Q&A session, a reporter predictably tried to stir the pot. "Mr. Linwood, there are accusations from Deco Group that you stole proprietary information when you left. What do you have to say to that?"

The room went silent.

I leaned into the microphone and smiled, "Let me ask you a question. Do you know who was responsible for 89.7% of Deco Group's revenue last year?"

I paused, letting the question hang in the air. "Now, those clients are choosing to follow me. Do you think it's because I stole a few pieces of paper? Or is it because they were always my clients to begin with?"

Everyone burst out laughing.

Another reporter stood up. "Michael Grant released a statement this morning, claiming you engaged in unethical practices during your employment..."

I pulled out my phone and connected it to the massive screen behind me. "Funny you should mention that. I happen to have a recording from a recent internal board meeting at Deco Group."

Before I could press play, Emily's hand gently covered mine.

She leaned in, whispering in my ear, "That's enough. It's more advantageous for us to let them save a little face."

I raised an eyebrow and switched off the display. "On second thought," I announced to the room, "that's a trade secret. Can't just be showing it to everyone."

After the press conference, Emily gave me a tour of my new office.

It was an entire floor, dedicated to my division.

The decor was sleek and minimalist, just how I liked it. In the center of the main conference room was a massive conference table carved from a single piece of polished mahogany.

"Like it?" she asked.

I push open the door to my own office.

Floor‑to‑ceiling windows wrapped the far wall, framing a perfect view of Deco Tower across the street.

From this height, their logo looked pathetic and small.

"I love it," I said with a grin.

*****

Late that night, only a few lights remained on in Ascend Group.

I was finishing up some client files when I walked past the administrative department and heard the low hum of a paper shredder.

Emily was standing there, with a small slip of paper in her hand.

For a split second, I could make out the words "surveillance" and "report."

She saw me, froze for a beat, and then, without hesitation, fed the note into the shredder.

"Don't ask what you're not supposed to know," she said, cutting me off before I could speak.

I just shrugged. "I didn't see a thing."

She walked over and handed me a flash drive. "Deco Group's latest intel. Including their plan to poach our head of R&D."

I took the drive. "Why are you helping me?"

"I'm not helping you," she said, turning toward the elevator. "I'm helping Ascend Group."

Just as the elevator doors were closing, she looked back at me. "By the way," she said with a cryptic smile. "Expect a surprise tomorrow."

*****

The next morning, the financial news was dominated by one story.

[Deco Group Rocked by New Scandal! VP Michael Grant Taken into Custody for Financial Fraud!]

[Whistleblower Reveals Michael Manipulated Sales Data to Embezzle Millions in Bonuses!]

The accompanying photo was a pathetic shot of Michael being escorted out of the Deco Group building by federal agents.

He was still wearing the Rolex I had helped him get a discount on last year.

I dialed Emily's number. "So, this was your surprise?"

Her light laugh tinkled through the phone. "That was just the appetizer, Frank. The main course is yet to come."