Waiting for the money to arrive was both a sweet relief and a torturous wait.
Fortunately, Mors had been desperate to drive Nolan out of the company and had gone through considerable effort to make it happen.
Two hundred million dollars. Within just a single week, that sum had already been transferred into Nolan's account.
The moment the notification appeared, Nolan's mood lifted considerably.
The only thing that irritated him was the detail buried in the loan agreement he had signed with Mors. The man hadn't forgotten. Of course he wouldn't.
As a result, Nolan only pocketed one hundred and ninety million after deductions. Still, he accepted it without much complaint and swiftly signed the stack of share transfer agreements.
Every shareholder who received one walked away with a radiant smile, pleased that they had gotten what they wanted.
But as Nolan signed the final document, Mors's smiling expression hardened into a cold mask.
"Nolan Locke," Mors said, his tone sharp, "this company is no longer yours. You are not welcome here. I'll give you thirty minutes to gather your personal belongings. After that, I'll have you escorted out."
Nolan didn't lose his temper. Instead, he spoke softly, as if reminiscing.
"I didn't expect that the company my father left behind would end up belonging to someone else within just a few months after his death."
Mors let out a dry chuckle.
"Look on the bright side. At least you walked away with two hundred million."
Nolan gave a lazy stretch and smiled faintly.
"My technology is worth far more than that, but… very well. Good luck, Mr. Mors."
With that, Nolan turned and walked away, his expression unreadable, leaving behind the office that had once been filled with his memories.
Of course, it was no longer Locke Technologies. The new signage already bore its replacement name: Mors Group.
To that, Nolan couldn't help but smirk.
How thoughtful.
He had been struggling to come up with a name for his new company, but Mors had kindly freed the old one for him.
The New Locke Technologies.
The name rolled off the tongue nicely. Nolan silently applauded the irony.
Seeing the peculiar smile on Nolan's face as he left, Mors frowned, unsettled for a brief moment. But he quickly brushed the feeling aside and snatched up the phone.
He wasted no time in contacting Finlan Cooley to deliver the good news.
When Finlan heard, his face lit up with joy. This would be the largest company controlled by the Irish mob to date.
And wasn't that the very reason Wilson Fisk the Kingpin was feared by every gang in the city? It wasn't just his power. It was his wealth.
This was only the first step for the Irish. With Mors Group under their control, they would climb higher and higher until they surpassed Fisk himself, crushing every faction in Hell's Kitchen.
One day, they would be the true underground emperors of New York.
"Mors," Finlan said sharply, "get control of the company immediately. I want to know exactly how much we'll need to patch up its debts. You're well aware we already borrowed heavily to cover that two hundred million."
Two hundred million was no small figure. The Irish mob's assets were vast, but mobilizing that kind of cash on short notice had been anything but easy. Assets and liquidity were two very different things.
"I understand," Mors replied. "Give me two weeks at most, and I'll have the numbers."
After hanging up, Mors leaned back in what used to be Nolan Locke's chair. The view wasn't quite enough to overlook all of New York, but the horizon still stretched wide before him just like the Irish mob's future.
He had barely enjoyed the seat for a few minutes when an assistant rushed in.
"Boss, Simon Phillips just submitted his resignation. He's already left the company."
"What?" Mors shot upright. "I never authorized his departure."
For the first time, his heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong.
Nolan had signed away the company far too willingly. Now Simon had vanished without a trace.
Mors's face darkened as realization clawed at him. He slammed the desk with his fist.
"Get me a full audit of the assets immediately! I want results in three days!"
That brat Nolan Locke… had he played them for fools?
No. Impossible. He didn't have the cunning for that. He didn't have the resources either.
And yet… the unease gnawed at Mors, a shadow he couldn't shake.
On the other side of the city, Nolan had already filed the paperwork for his new company name. The approval went through without issue.
At his side, Jessica Jones watched him with a conflicted gaze.
"Boss," she muttered, "you're really not as naïve as I thought you were."
Nolan gave her a once-over and grinned.
"Hey, girl, what gave you the impression I was naïve in the first place?"
Jessica shrugged.
"Fair enough. I should've known better."
She glared at him, jaw tight. This was the man who had stolen her first time.
They bantered lightly for a moment before Nolan's expression turned serious.
"Listen, be careful these days. Mors has the Irish mob behind him. Once they realize what's happened, they'll definitely come after me. They might even target you."
He chuckled, almost to himself.
"Though honestly, I doubt they'll go that far."
Jessica rolled up her sleeve and flexed her toned bicep at him.
Her body was fit, lean, and firm something Nolan knew from experience. She had just enough muscle to be powerful without looking bulky. And of course, she had her superhuman strength.
"If they dare come for me, they'll regret it. I don't scare easy. But you, my dear boss…" She leaned closer, eyes flicking downward with a mischievous smile. "Do you need me to protect you?"
Nolan's face darkened.
"Small? Jessica, you of all people should know better."
She burst out laughing and darted away before he could respond.
Nolan muttered under his breath. What an infuriating woman.
Still, superpowered women were dangerous. Even now, his lower back ached just thinking about their last encounter.
This wouldn't do. He needed to get stronger.
Running a new company came with enough trouble already. Venturing into the weapons industry would be an entirely different battlefield.
In this country, not just anyone could dabble in arms manufacturing. It wasn't simply a matter of technology. You needed capital. Influence. And above all, the right connections.
Luckily, Simon Phillips had a few leads. Within days, he introduced Nolan to a contact.
The man wasn't government, but he carried the Fisk name.
Nolan's brows furrowed. Fisk? He only knew of one Fisk Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin. And Fisk never struck him as a family man.
But that hardly mattered. All Nolan needed was someone to smooth the path.
The man certainly knew who Nolan Locke was.
"Mr. Locke," he said, "you're aware of the government's standards for weapons contractors. If you can't meet the minimum requirements, even I won't be able to push your application through."
Nolan smiled confidently.
"Of course. I assure you, our products will exceed those standards. In fact, if you're familiar with my work, you'll know my philosophy already."
The man nodded.
"I have heard of it. Very well, I believe we can cooperate."
Nolan leaned in slightly.
"A commission of ten million once the deal is approved."
His contact smirked, amused.
"I'm a businessman. What I value more than a one-time payment is something with long-term growth."
Nolan's smile faded.
"You want shares in my company?"
His jaw tightened. This new company was built solely with his own money. Even Simon Phillips worked only on salary and bonuses. He hadn't planned on sharing ownership with anyone.
But the man across from him didn't flinch.
"These are the rules of the game, Mr. Locke. No one is exempt. Not even you."
Nolan stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding.
He needed someone to push the paperwork through. Going through the official channels would take at least three years.
"Fine. You'll get your shares. But only after the license is approved."
"No problem," the man replied with a confident grin.
After all, no one dared cross the Fisk name.
Nolan, however, remained calm. His eyes were steady, his expression unreadable.
He only hoped that, when the time came, his new "partner" could actually collect those shares.
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