At around half past 11, Seven finalized his transfer from active serviceman to private contractor. The clinical efficiency of the DOD did little to ease his mind. The moment he signed the last document, a strange weight settled in his chest—not relief, but something heavier. His pulse ticked in his throat as he stepped into the hallway, fists clenching at his sides. His jaw locked so tightly it ached, but he forced himself to keep moving, toward his most important mission.

  Twenty minutes later, he entered the bustling Data Dynamics, his presence commanding immediate attention. Clad in a charcoal gray Prada suit that sharpened his lean, muscular physique, he looked every bit the powerful executive he was expected to be. Yet his demeanor stayed distant, unreadable. He barely acknowledged the murmured greetings from colleagues as he strode past.

  Wendy, catching sight of him in her periphery, abandoned her half-made coffee and hurried from the pantry, heels clicking briskly across the polished floor.

  “VP Kavanagh, you’re finally back! How was your trip?” Wendy chirped, her fawning manner making his skin crawl.

  “Good,” he replied flatly.

  Wendy straightened, collecting herself. “Several people are seeking an audience with you.”

  He cut her off before she could continue. “I’ll be available from 1:00 to 3:30. Arrange for those who can meet me during that time.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wendy responded crisply as she watched him disappear into his office.

  ……

  At one, Drew Jameson was ushered in, anticipation radiating despite her nerves.

  “VP Kavanagh, are you aware there’s a company Christmas party on the 16th?”

  “No,” he snapped.

  Drew hesitated, then pressed forward. “Oh! If you’re attending, I wonder if we could be each other’s plus one.”

  “I’m afraid not,” he said, clipped.

  Drew’s shoulders slumped, disappointment clouding her features. “I see… Alright then. Good day, VP Kav.”

  After she left, several others cycled through. Some had work matters, others echoing Drew’s request to be his plus-one.

  As the clock neared three, a knock came at the door. It swung open, revealing a malevolent figure.

  Talon Cloche.

  Seven’s breath caught for a split second, but he quickly masked it. A slow burn coiled in his gut as he discreetly activated the in-room surveillance system.

  Talon sauntered in, unhurried, his steps carrying a predatory rhythm as he roved over the office, calculating. He didn’t sit. Instead, he leaned against the chair opposite the desk, making himself the focal point.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Dr. Kavanagh, have you been avoiding me?” Talon’s words slithered out, lips curling into a taunting smirk.

  Seven’s reply was glacial. “Aren’t I here now?”

  Talon’s brows furrowed. “You’ve had more than a week to reconsider my offer. Have you made up your mind?”

  “My answer is no,” he seethed.

  Talon’s eyelids narrowed to a slit. “I heard that you have a close relationship with President Gilani. It would be a pity if something untoward happened to such a lovely lady, wouldn’t it?” His expression darkened, the thinly veiled intimidation hanging like a thundercloud.

  Seven’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “Is that a threat, Mr. Cloche?”

  Talon chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. “Just a friendly reminder of what’s at stake.”

  Seven gripped the armrest until his knuckles blanched. “You think you can coerce me into submission?”

  “Coerce you?” Talon’s sneer widened, cruel and arrogant. “I prefer to think of it as... motivating you.”

  Seven’s eyes flashed with restrained fury. “I don’t respond well to threats. If you want my cooperation, find another way to persuade me.”

  Talon leaned forward, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll see things my way eventually. Everyone has a breaking point. I’m curious to find out what yours is.”

  The air thickened, the tension suffocating. “Push me too far, and you’ll regret it.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Talon let loose a mirthless snicker, adjusting his tie with a sharp tug. “You don’t seem too concerned about President Gilani; you must think she’s safe with her round-the-clock protection, am I right?” He paused, his tone turning insidious. “But what about your other, less fortunate colleagues? Hmm? Let me tell you, it’ll be on you when they start dropping like flies, one by one.”

  Seven released a measured breath, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. Putting on a convincing performance was a delicate balance.

  Seeing his defiance, Talon nodded and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Seven’s voice was taut, controlled.

  Talon halted, smugness creeping into his expression. “Have you come around?”

  “I’ll cooperate with you,” Seven spat through gritted teeth. “But you’ll have to agree to my terms.”

  Talon’s mien gleamed with triumph. “Name them.”

  Seven drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. “First, I’ll build the Cloins platform. No one from C-Tech will have any hand in its development.”

  Talon’s smirk faltered for a fraction. “And why should I agree to that?”

  “Because it ensures no leaks. I’ll embed a mirror layer to bypass AML monitoring—KYC, transaction flags—rerouting funds through hidden sub-ledgers, invisible to FinCEN. Only I can code it securely.”

  Talon weighed the offer. “Fine. What else?”

  “Second, I’ll integrate it into C-Tech only when it’s complete. Rushing risks detection by FinCEN audits.”

  “But I need an ETD,” Talon pressed.

  “One to two months, depending on AML workaround complexity.”

  “I accept the ETD. Is that all?” Talon’s eyes narrowed, waiting.

  Seven’s stare bore into him. “In exchange, you must guarantee that no one from Data Dynamics will be harmed.”

  A flicker of irritation crossed Talon’s face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a Machiavellian smile. “Very well, Kavanagh. But double-cross me, and not even your loved ones will be safe.”

  Seven rose abruptly, signaling the end of the conversation. “I’ll start immediately. You’ll get your first update in a week.”

  Talon beamed, a sinister curl of his lips. “I look forward to it.”

  But just as his words fell, a fleeting unease crossed Talon’s gaze.

  “What about your compensation?” Talon asked, uncertainty threading his voice.

  “I’m neither as greedy nor despicable as you,” Seven huffed, disdain lacing his tone.

  Talon’s brows arched in genuine surprise. “How upright you are, Kavanagh!”

  Seven scoffed, “Just get the hell out of my sight.”

  Talon’s left eye suddenly twitched. He scowled at Seven before turning to leave, the door slamming shut behind him.

  Seven exhaled slowly, adrenaline still coursing through him. The real challenge had just begun.