AUBURN DISTRICT,CLARE IN IRELAND; BANKS ENTERPRISE; 250th FLOOR...THE CEO'S OFFICE.
The office was more than just a workplace,it was a fortress of elegance and control, much like the man who owned it.
Warm, dark grey walls surrounded the space, absorbing light in a way that exuded power and secrecy. The subtle scent of rich leather and polished mahogany permeated the air, mingling with hints of aged whiskey and clean cologne. Every corner of the room whispered sophistication, wealth, and the quiet danger that came with knowing too much.
At the heart of the office sat an imposing, handcrafted desk made from a single slab of polished mahogany. Its deep, lustrous finish gleamed under the ambient lighting, reflecting Madden Banks' disciplined nature. Behind the desk, a high-backed, black leather chair cradled Madden's frame like a throne built for a king of commerce,one who ruled with precision and ruthlessness.
To the side stood a minimalist, chrome-plated suit hanger. A sharply tailored jacket, perfectly pressed, hung with military-level precision. Not a crease dared to stray.
The space around him was curated with the kind of taste only old money could afford. Abstract art in subdued palettes adorned one wall, while another displayed a gallery of black-and-white photographs,powerful images of corporate giants, historical deals, and moments frozen in time that only the elite would recognize. Beneath them, a walnut console held rare, antique artifacts: a Montblanc fountain pen set from the 1940s, a bronze sculpture of Athena, a vintage Rolex tucked safely in glass.
Across from his desk, a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to the city's skyline,its glow bleeding into the room with the warm gold of an early evening. The light kissed the cream-colored sofas that flanked a sleek coffee table, offering a deceptively welcoming space for meetings that often turned into verbal battles.
The room's lighting was intentionally low,warm, ambient lamps cast shadows in all the right places. Everything here had been designed not just to impress, but to unsettle. Power was not about loudness; it was about presence. Madden understood that better than most.
In the far corner, a sleek tech console displayed real-time data from financial markets, government feeds, and encrypted communications. Madden's eyes flicked to the constantly updating numbers like a man obsessed. He didn't trust anyone else to stay on top of the game.
Then came a knock.
His jaw tightened. Few things annoyed Madden Banks more than interruptions.
He didn't look away from the monitors, but his voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Come in."
The door creaked open and Will, his substitute personal assistant,emphasis on substitute,entered with a foolish grin stretching across his face. His steps were light, almost bouncing, as if he didn't just disturb a man calculating global dominance.
"It better be important," Madden said coldly, his eyes narrowing as they finally peeled away from the monitors. He didn't bother to hide his disdain.
Will flinched but quickly masked it with a pout. "Of course it is, boss."
Madden's stare deepened, like a hawk locking onto prey. Will took the hint and dropped the pout, approaching the desk with a nervous chuckle.
"There's been a development with your father's case…" he began, voice shaky but trying to maintain composure. "I...I found out his death might not have been… ordinary."
Madden's gaze sharpened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"Did you think I didn't already know that?" Madden snapped. "Why the hell else would I have told you to investigate it?"
Will twitched, flustered, mumbling something inaudible under his breath before forcing a strained smile. "Boss, I wasn't done yet."
Madden didn't reply. His attention had returned to the monitors. Will stood awkwardly, swallowing his discomfort.
"We discovered that your father was in frequent contact with a woman,an unidentified woman,for two days before he died," Will continued. "And… his lawyer kept a backup file. Something about property transfers, a different will, maybe a trust…"
"Why don't you have those files already?" Madden snapped, cutting him off again. "Why are you feeding me half-baked reports like some intern?"
"I… I needed your approval first, sir," Will replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
Madden massaged his temples. A headache was forming,and its name was Will.
"Do you know why I haven't fired you yet?"
"Because you love me?" Will offered hopefully, teeth gleaming in a wide, stupid grin.
"No," Madden said flatly. "Because you're too dumb for anyone else to take seriously. That makes you harmless."
Will's smile dropped.
"I don't know what Alvin was thinking, assigning you to me," Madden continued coldly. "You're a waste of time. A liability wrapped in a cheap suit."
"I'll change, boss. I promise," Will said with a childish tone, trying to stay upbeat, but his voice cracked.
"Leave," Madden ordered with finality.
Will gave a mock salute. "Alright, boss."
He turned to leave but paused at the door. "So… should we still look for the files?"
Madden didn't answer right away.
"No. Don't."
Will blinked, confused. "Okay. We won't."
Silence.
Then Madden's voice came again, sharp as a whip. "Are you stupid?"
Will turned around, visibly puzzled. "Boss, why are you upset again? I'm just doing what you said."
"You really want me to explain this to you?" Madden asked, slowly rising from his chair. "Did I not just tell you to find the files?"
"But you said not to..."
"Leave."
"But..."
"Don't make me repeat myself."
Will sulked but trudged toward the door, mumbling under his breath.
"Go handle the project in Australia," Madden added casually, eyes back on his screens. "And don't come back until it's done."
Will stopped mid-step, his face a mask of horror. "Boss, no...please. That project's enormous. It'll take years. I...I'll probably die over there!"
Madden barely glanced up. "Are you complaining?"
Will choked on his words. "No… I mean, yes...no! I mean I'm just saying…"
"You want mercy now?" Madden asked, voice colder than ever.
Will dropped to his knees. "Please, boss. My mother's sick. She needs me. I can't leave her alone."
"Take her with you," Madden replied without emotion.
"She's too ill to travel...she needs care," Will tried again.
"Then hire someone. Or visit her on your days off. It's not my problem."
Will's lips trembled. He tried again. "Boss…"
"One more word," Madden warned, "and I'll make sure you're assigned to Antarctica next."
Will said nothing else. He sniffled and slowly backed away, eyes pleading for leniency that wouldn't come. Madden ignored him, hands dancing over the keyboard again.
Will lingered for a second too long.
"Leave," Madden repeated.
Will opened his mouth, then closed it.
"You really enjoy making me repeat myself, don't you?"
Will's shoulders slumped in defeat. He opened the door and stepped out quietly, casting one last hopeful glance back.
Madden didn't even look at him.
The assistant closed the door behind him, the soft click sounding like a final judgment.
Madden leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, fingers pressing into his temples.
"Such a pain in the ass," he muttered.