New York}
The board meeting was thick with tension, each man and woman careful with their words as they delivered their findings to the cold man who sat in his black shiny chair.
His index finger tapped gently on the table, his gaze piercing as he listened to all their words.
“That’s all, Mr. Sinclair” the man who had just finished speaking swallowed hard as he bowed slightly.
“That’s all?” The cold man asked, his deep voice piercing the air like a jagged dagger. The presenter nodded, fear rising in him.
He tilted his head. “That’s all?” he asked again, his voice now dripping with cold.
“Yes, Mr. Sinclair.”
The room grew deathly silent, the air charged with unspoken fear. Every eye in the room was fixed on Mr. Sinclair, the man who exuded power and intimidation like a second skin. His dark, piercing gaze pinned the presenter in place, making him shift uncomfortably.
“Let me ask you something,” he said, his voice deceptively calm, laced with menace that made the presenter’s knees threaten to buckle. “Do you think I keep you on this board to waste my time?”
“N-No, Mr. Sinclair,” the man stammered, his throat dry.
“Then why, pray tell, would you present half-baked solutions to a multi-million-dollar problem? Do you think I’m too blind to notice? Or too stupid to care?”
The man opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His colleagues sat frozen, silently relieved they weren’t the ones under Sinclair’s scrutiny-this time.
“If this is the best you can offer,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low, “then I’m questioning why you’re here at all.”
“Mr. Sinclair, I-”
“Save it,” he interrupted, raising a hand. His gaze swept across the room. “This applies to all of you. I expect solutions, not excuses. If you can’t deliver this week, you’re replaceable. Every one of you.”
With that, he rose, adjusted his suit and strode out of the boardroom, his assistant, Wyatt, trailing behind him.
“Any other schedule?” he asked Wyatt as they stepped into the office.
“A dinner with Miss Grace, Mr. Sinclair,” Wyatt responded.
“Cancel it. A dinner with a woman who only wants to get on my bed is pointless. And what’s with the ‘Mr. Sinclair’? We are in the office now. Call me Klaus,” Klaus replied, taking a glass of water.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Klaus,” Wyatt smiled a little. Even with how cold and ruthless his boss was, the man had never treated him unfairly.
Klaus paused, gazing out at the city through the transparent glass that covered one side of his luxurious office.
“How is she?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.
Wyatt, knowing who he was referring to, replied, “She is fine.”
Just one line of that statement was enough to make the cold man’s shoulders relax. Klaus had instructed him not to add any other details.
“And him?” he asked again.
“He is fine too, Mr. President,” Wyatt replied, again knowing who he was referring to.
Wyatt hadn’t met those two mysterious people, but he knew they were special, as his boss never missed a day without asking that question.
“As for our new branch at Montana, We’ve chose the company for the project and they’ll like to meet you physically sir” Wyatt informed and Klaus raised a brow. “They need to understand what you want sir. I think it’s best you explain to them physically so they can understand”
“Where do they reside?” Klaus asked.
“Mortana”
Hearing the place, Klaus sighed. “Make preparations”
Klaus’s phone rang, and he glanced at the name on the screen before answering.
“Speak,” he commanded.
“She’s acting up again,” came the reply.
Klaus’s eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Location?”
After obtaining all the details he needed, Klaus grabbed his coat and strode out of the office with his assistant in tow.
–
Over the years, life had been harsh-unyielding and devoid of warmth. The trials had forged him into a cold, ruthless figure. The moment he ascended to the president’s chair, everything shifted.
Did she think she could mold him into her puppet?
No.
It ended up the other way around.
The Moore clan, desperate for a leader after Alex’s untimely death, the last of the Moore bloodline.
At first, he played his role perfectly-a quiet, obedient pawn under Katie’s thumb.
For over a year, he let her push him around, earning her trust and lulling her into a false sense of control.
But Klaus had a plan, and beneath his composed exterior, he gathered evidence that she was the one who orchestrated Alex’s death.
He uncovered every detail, every shred of proof, and when the time came, Klaus presented his findings to the Moore elders, the pillars of the clan who held the true power which dismantled her influence in a single stroke.
Shock rippled through the room, but the elders remained skeptical. Klaus was an outsider to them, a distant relative at best, and they were hesitant to trust him with the clan’s legacy.
“I’ll prove myself,” Klaus had told them. “Give me six months. I’ll take down the Moore family’s greatest rival.”
The elders, torn between distrust and the promise of results, agreed to his terms. Klaus immediately began planning, using his position as president to amass resources, allies, and intelligence.
When Katie confronted him, Klaus simply lied that he was doing it for her legacy, earning the elders’ trust for her.
In six months, Klaus accomplished what no Moore before him had ever managed.
He led the clan’s forces, bringing their greatest rivals to their knees. The elders watched in awe as their influence grew under Klaus’s leadership.
By the end of it, their doubts evaporated. Klaus wasn’t just a leader-he was the leader they needed.
The news hit Katie like a thunderclap. The elders unanimously chose Klaus as the new head of the Moore family.
The tables had turned, and the once-powerful Katie now stood at his mercy.
Katie will dance to his tune and he’ll decide when the music stops.
–
PRESENT.
“Where is he?!” Katie yelled at the men surrounding her. She held a little girl, a knife pressed against her tiny neck. “Tell me where that devil is, or I’ll slash the girl’s throat…”
“He is on his way. Now let go of that child,” one of the men stepped forward.
“Stay where you are,” Katie warned. The girl whimpered at her harsh hold. Her mother gasped from around the corner.
Katie looked disheveled, her clothes tattered and her face older than her age.
“I’m here,” Klaus’s voice sounded at the entrance, hands tucked into his pockets, gaze piercing.
Katie’s grip on her knife tightened, her eyes flashing with fear as she kept the girl close.
“Let the girl go,” he demanded.
“Not until you tell me where my son is,” she growled.
Klaus chuckled, a dark sound. “He’s alive,” he shrugged, stepping forward. “Breathing for now.”
“Stay where you are, or I’ll end her,” Katie warned, but Klaus didn’t stop his slow, deliberate steps toward her.
“You know I can kill you with one swift movement and save that girl,” Klaus grinned, his eyes burning.
“Let me see you tr-”
A gunshot echoed as one of the men shot Katie’s arm from behind; the knife fell, and the girl ran to her mother, who quickly embraced her.
Katie gasped at the blood pumping from her arm, her scream echoing in the space. Her body trembled like a leaf in a storm as she fell to her knees.
“Killing is a small punishment for all you’ve done to me, my parents, and those I love… I’ll make you wish for death,” he whispered.
“You monster,” Katie growled.
“You made me stitch by stitch. You’re just reaping what you sow…” Klaus retorted.