Myron's POV
The wine bottle was cold in my hand and honestly, it felt good. I didn't bother with a glass. Just twisted the cap off and drank straight from the neck. Smooth, expensive, aged... the kind of wine I used to save for special occasions. Tonight felt like one.
Finally. Oh finally! That thorn in my side, Stephanie, was out of the picture. Gone. The guys I sent, they were the best I had. Hard men. They were quiet and got things done fast. They've never failed any mission I've sent them before. Once they told me to consider it done, I knew I could breathe again.
Now it was just me, a bottle, and a future without her in it.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, already thinking about the next move. The only person standing in my way now was my father, Cane. The old man was sharp, too damn sharp. A fortress of paranoia and secrets. Taking what was his, the money, the properties, the company was going to take finesse. I needed something clean. Something no one could trace. I had to do it in a way that'll seem natural, but how.
I was still trying to figure that out and strategically plan my next move when the door bell rang. I paused for a while. I wasn't expecting anyone.
There was only one person who'd dare to show up here without any invitation. Tiffany, I thought, rolling my eyes. She had this habit of showing up crying, drunk, and desperate to talk about her "ruined life." I wasn't in the mood.
But the ringing didn't stop. It got louder, faster. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, setting the bottle down with a thud. I stomped to the door, half-ready to rip Tiffany a new one.
But when I opened it, I couldn't find anyone there. The porch was empty and quiet, except for the wind brushing past the hedges. Then I looked down.
There was a small brown box. It had label or return address. It was just sitting there like it belonged.
Something cold crept through me. I picked it up. It was quite heavy. Way heavier than it should've been.
I locked the door, carried it to the living room, and set it on the coffee table. My heartbeat picked up. What was I so nervous about? It could've been a gift, sure. Maybe someone sent me something to celebrate.
I'll never know if I don't open it, right? I reached down and tore open the tape that sealed it.
And when I saw what was inside, a Sharp scream tore out of me and I stumbled back, landing on the couch.
It was them. The two men I'd sent after Stephanie. Their heads. It was packed in melting, bloody ice. Their dead eyes stared right at me.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. How do this happen? Who...Stephanie? No. That was very impossible. She wasn't capable of this. I'd been married to her six years. she cried at commercials, for God's sake. She couldn't kill a spider, much less a man.
There could only be one explanation for this. She had someone strong and dangerous helping her? But who? My dad? Or....could it be that she actually knew who Bishop was? And if she did… then I was already dead.
I was still sitting on the floor, trying to get my breathing under control, when my phone started blaring. The sound made me jump. I fumbled for it. It was my secretary.
"Mr. Myron! You need to get to the office, now!" she said, her voice panicked.
"What? Why?" I snapped, my voice still shaky.
"The board of directors! They've called an emergency meeting. They're demanding you be here. They said it's urgent!"
This made no sense. There was no scheduled meeting. The board never did anything without telling me first. A deep, sick feeling of dread began to pool in my stomach. First the box, now this.
I rushed to get changed, my mind racing. I drove to the office like a madman, breaking every traffic rule. When I walked into the boardroom, all conversation stopped. Every face around the long table was pale and panicked.
"What is going on?" I demanded, slamming my hands on the table. "What is this emergency?"
One of the older directors, Mr. Hemsworth, cleared his throat. "Myron... there's been a... a change in company leadership."
I let out a harsh laugh. "A change? What are you talking about? I'm the CEO. I'm the majority shareholder. Nothing changes without me."
Another director, a woman named Clara, couldn't even look at me. "We... we sold our shares."
"What?" The word came out as a whisper.
"All of us," Hemsworth admitted, his voice low. "Last night. The buyer... they knew things about us. Private things. They threatened to ruin us if we didn't sell."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Overnight? Someone bought you all out overnight?"
They all just nodded, looking at the table like ashamed children.
I was seeing red. My company. My birthright. "Who?" I roared, my voice echoing in the silent room. "Who the hell is this person? Where are they?"
As if on cue, the large double doors of the boardroom swung open.
And there she was.
Stephanie.
But it wasn't the Stephanie I remembered. This woman was sharp, polished, and dangerous. She wore a fierce red tuxedo that screamed power. Her hair, which used to be long, was now cut in a severe, stylish bob. Her lips were painted a blood-red.
She walked into the room like she owned it, because, I realized with a sinking heart, she now did.
Her eyes scanned the room and landed on me. A slow, cold smile played on her lips.
"Who's asking after me?" she said, her voice clear and cutting.
I was paralyzed. I couldn't form a single word. She walked right up to me, so close I could smell her perfume. She leaned in, her lips almost touching my ear. Her whisper was for me alone, a venomous promise.
"Your downfall has just started," she hissed. "I'm going to make you beg for death."
Then she leaned back, that same cold smile plastered on her face. But to me, it wasn't a smile. It
was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. It was the devil smiling right at me.