"What... what the fuck did you do to them?!" he shrieked, backing away like Rick had just deployed a chemical weapon. "Who the fuck are you?!"
Rick stepped over a dropped baton, adjusted his sleeve and looked at Dolund straight in the eye.
"My name is Rick Smith," Rick replied with a smirk playing on his lips, "The way you are dresses, I think you must have heard of my name by now."
And sure did. The name hit Dolund like a slap on his face.
Rick Smith. The ghost. The phantom billionaire who had just acquired a controlling fifty-percent stake in the Peninsula Hotel out of thin air. The man who now owned half of everything in this very tower he was standing.
And Dolund had just ordered his security to break that man’s legs.
All the blood drained from Dolund’s face. His knees buckled.
"M... Mr. Smith?" Dolund squeaked.
"Dolund!" Tristan cried from the floor, still clutching his bleeding nose, "Kill him! Get more guards. Tell them to get up and kill him!"
Dolund finally snapped out of his thoughts thanks to Tristian’s loud scream. Without a second thought, he lunged, grabbed Tristan by the collar of his ruined white suit, and hauled him up.
Slap!
The blow cracked across Tristan’s face with enough force to make his head snap sideways.
"Shut your fucking mouth, you blind, arrogant idiot!" Dolund roared, spittle flying. He didn’t care whose son the boy was anymore. Rick outranked the Chairwoman. To save his own skin, if Dolund had to grovel in front of that kid, he would do so without a second thought.
Slap! Slap!
Two more heavy blows left Tristan dazed and half-unconscious before Dolund dropped him back onto the bloody marble.
Then the fat old man spun and threw himself onto his knees in front of Rick, double chin pressing against his chest.
"Mr. Smith! I am so sorry!" he begged, voice shaking. "I didn’t know it was you, sir! This boy is a fool! I will have him permanently banned! Please... Please forgive his insolence!"
"If you want, you can hit him even more... I will look the other way."
Rick looked down at the Vice-Chairman bowing in front of him. The power shift was intoxicating.
"Get up." Rick casually waved his hand.
And Dolund quickly scrambled to his feet, head still bowed, pretending the reeking and smelly security team behind him simply didn’t exist.
"Why don’t you take me to meet the rest of you bunch?" Rick said coldly, "Now."
"Yes! Right away, Mr. Smith! It is an absolute honour, sir!" Dolund babbled, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed to summon the VIP elevator.
"This way sir."
~~~~~
Meanwhile on the top floor, the atmosphere inside the grand boardroom was incredibly tense.
Sitting at the head of the massive, polished mahogany table was Victoria.
She was the Chairwoman of the Peninsula Hotel, personally owning twenty percent of the hotel.
She was a strikingly beautiful, mature woman in her early forties, wearing a tight, tailored black skirt suit that hugged her body perfectly, paired with a crisp white blouse. Her dark hair was styled impeccably, and her sharp, intelligent eyes commanded absolute respect.
But right now, she was looking at the papers in font of her with a focused gaze.
"I don’t care what it costs," Victoria ordered, looking at her terrified executives. "Hire private investigators. Check the offshore accounts again. Find out who is proxying for Rick Smith."
"A man does not simply buy half a billion dollars in assets and remain a total ghost. We need to prepare a defence strategy immediately."
"Chairwoman," the Chief Financial Officer stammered, wiping sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand. "The bank in Switzerland won’t even confirm the routing numbers. The capital didn’t transfer through standard corporate channels. It’s like the money just materialised out of thin air."
Victoria frowned, "Money does not materialise out of thin air, David! There is always a paper trail... Always. Dig into the shell companies. Check the international syndicates."
"What if it’s the cartel?" a female executive asked, her voice shaking, "What if this Rick Smith is a front for a hostile takeover? They could have our families targeted."
"Then we fight," Victoria said coldly, her ice-blue eyes narrowing. "I have spent fifteen years building this hotel’s reputation. We do not hand over my empire to a ghost. I want our legal team to draft an injunction. I want every single security protocol elevated..."
Just as the CFO opened his mouth to reply, the heavy oak doors of the boardroom violently kicked open.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
"Victoria! Everyone!" Dolund announced, his voice overly loud and completely out of place in the serious meeting. He was sweating heavily, forcing a massive, fake smile onto his face as he clapped his hands like an absolute idiot, "I have a plesant surprise for you! You are all going to absolutely love this!"
Victoria frowned deeply. Her sharp eyes narrowed in pure annoyance, "Dolund, we are in the middle of something important here. Sit down and shut your loud mouth."
"No, no, no! You don’t understand!" Dolund laughed nervously, stepping fully into the room but blocking the doorway, "I have solved everything, Victoria! The solution to all our problems is standing right outside this very door!"
Victoria rubbed her temples, feeling a severe headache coming on, "Dolund, speak plainly. What are you talking about?"
"I went down to the lobby," Dolund babbled, highly animated and desperate to look like the hero who saved the day. "And you will never guess who I ran into. He is very eccentric. Very incognito! Wearing casual clothes to test us. No doubt he is a dragon among mortals!"
"But I saw right through it!"
"Dolund," Victoria warned, her voice dropping to a dangerous, lethal whisper, "If you do not get to the point in exactly three seconds, I will have the security drag you out, and throw you out of that window."
Dolund gulped, his fake smile faltering for a split second, "Don’t be so angry my dear... May I present to you, our new majority shareholder... Mr. Rick Smith!"
The entire boardroom collectively gasped.
Every single executive at the table froze. Ten pairs of widened eyes snapped to the doorway.
Rick walked into the room.
He didn’t wear a suit. He didn’t carry a briefcase. He walked in wearing casual jeans and a t-shirt, looking completely relaxed, as if he were strolling into a local pub for some beer.
Victoria stood up from her leather chair immediately. Her breasts heaved against her tight white blouse. She stared at him, utterly stunned by his young, casual appearance. This was him?
Rick didn’t wait for introductions. He didn’t wait for them to offer him a seat.
He walked with heavy, dominant steps straight down the length of the boardroom. He bypassed all the executives, walking directly towards Victoria at the head of the table.
As he walked, Rick mentally accessed his Inventory.
Pop.
With a subtle warp of the air, a massive, thick stack of system-verified, legally binding ownership documents appeared directly in his right hand. To the executives watching, it looked like sheer, impossible magic. He had literally pulled the papers out of thin air.
Rick reached the head of the table. He raised the heavy stack of documents and slammed them down onto the polished mahogany wood right in front of Victoria.
Bang!
The loud sound made half the executives flinch in their seats.
Rick didn’t stop there. He stepped right into Victoria’s personal space. The sudden, aggressive proximity completely caught her off guard. She stumbled backwards, her knees hitting the edge of her large leather chair, forcing her to sit back down heavily.
Rick leaned over her. He placed both of his hands firmly on the armrests of her chair, physically caging her in.
Victoria gasped softly. She was trapped. She looked up at him, her sharp, authoritative eyes suddenly wide and slightly flustered. She could smell the faint, masculine scent of his skin. The sheer physical dominance radiating off him was completely overwhelming.
"I believe that," Rick whispered, his voice deep, and dripping with raw authority.
"This is my seat."