"Let's start the meeting, shall we?" Damien said, his voice cool.
"Who are you, little kid?" Mikhail Volkov sneered.
"Little kid?" Damien repeated rhetorically, his eyes cold.
"I am Damien Blackthorn—the current CEO of Blackthorn Enterprises—and your new leader."
He paused, letting the words settle in the room.
"And you must be... Miguel Volkov?" Damien added deliberately.
"It's Mikhail Volkov," Mikhail corrected sharply.
Liang Shen let out a laugh at Damien's intentional mispronunciation.
Mikhail shot him a daggered glare, and the laughter quickly died.
"Instead of wasting time arguing over the pronunciation of names," Damien continued, unfazed, "let's get to business."
He glanced around the room, his presence heavy.
"Now, about your money. I know you've all been waiting to launder it. You can send it this week."
"All of us?" Rafe Kingston asked.
"Yes, all of you. Any problem with that?" Damien replied sharply.
"Usually, your father handled two members at once. Three at most," Victor Langford said, clearly surprised.
"Don't worry. All your money will be made clean before the end of the week—as long as you don't exceed the usual amounts," Damien assured them.
"How are you going to do that?" Liang Shen asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm an accountant. And don't worry about how I'm going to do it. My methods don't matter. All you need to care about is receiving your clean money," Damien said coolly.
"With the way you're rushing things, don't you think we should take it slow?" Diego Montoya chimed in.
"You could make mistakes, and if you do, it'll be traced back to us."
"I've been doing accounting for eleven years," Damien said sharply.
"I've been cleaning money for seven. I don't make mistakes."
Montoya opened his mouth to protest—but Damien cut him off.
"Did you guys always argue with my father like this?" he asked, his tone deadly calm.
The room went completely silent.
Damien let the silence stretch.
"Any other issues anyone would like to bring up?" he said at last.
No one answered.
As Damien was about to close the meeting, Volkov spoke again.
"I heard you let go of some idiots who attacked one of our shipments," Volkov said.
"Yes?" Damien replied calmly.
"That's not how business is done. You let them go this time—they'll come back. They always do," Volkov warned.
"I'll make sure that doesn't happen," Damien said, standing.
"If that's all, the meeting is adjourned."
He turned and left, Sloane following close behind.
---
Back in the meeting room, the remaining five stayed behind.
"What do you think of the kid?" Rafe asked, lighting a cigarette.
"I think he's too soft," Volkov grunted.
"He's got a big pair of shoes to fill," Liang Shen said thoughtfully.
"Let's wait and see if he succeeds or falls. All I'll say is—the boy's bold."
---
Across town, in a dimly lit warehouse, the Virelli Twins—Elias and Gideon Vanguard—planned.
"Alastair Blackthorn is dead," Elias said, pacing the floor.
"And I hear his son is a princess. This is our chance to destroy the Blackthorn company and take over. There will be no better time."
"I've got word of a shipment coming in tomorrow," Gideon said.
"We can hit the port. Their defenses are down. They won't expect an attack—they think no one would dare."
Elias grinned wickedly.
"It's time for Vanguard to rule London. The reign of the Blackthorns is over."
The twins carefully schemed their attack, inspecting their cars, weapons, and blueprints.
After running through the plan one last time, Elias walked among the gathered men, inspecting everything.
"Blackthorn won't know what hit them," he said—and let out a chilling laugh that echoed through the warehouse.
—