Adrian Veyne believed the boardroom was his battlefield. Here, he had crushed rivals, silenced dissent, and bent the city's most powerful men and women to his will. But today, as he strode into the glass-walled chamber of Veyne Enterprises, the battlefield felt different.
The long table gleamed beneath the lights, executives seated in neat rows, their eyes sharp and expectant. Adrian's presence commanded silence. He adjusted his cufflinks, his mask of control firmly in place.
"Quarterly reports," he said, voice clipped. "Begin."
Numbers filled the air—profits, losses, projections. Adrian listened, but his gaze drifted to the shadows pooling at the edges of the room. They seemed thicker than usual, clinging to corners where the light should have reached.
He forced his focus back to the reports. Control was everything. Yet as one executive spoke, Adrian's eyes caught movement behind him. A figure—faceless, blurred—stood in the reflection of the glass wall.
Adrian's breath caught. He turned sharply. Nothing. Empty space.
The executive faltered, his voice trembling. "Sir?"
Adrian waved him on, irritation flashing. "Continue."
But the whispers began. Faint at first, threading through the silence. Names. Pleas. Laughter that didn't belong. Adrian clenched his jaw, forcing composure. He would not show weakness. Not here.
Then it happened.
One of his rivals, seated across the table, stiffened. His eyes widened, staring at something no one else could see. His hands trembled, papers scattering. "They're here," he whispered hoarsely. "They're—"
He collapsed, his body hitting the polished floor with a dull thud. Gasps filled the room. Executives rose, panic rippling through the chamber.
Adrian stood tall, his expression cold, though his heart pounded. He scanned the room, searching for the faceless figures. In the reflection, they pressed closer, their mouths open in silent hunger.
Elara's words echoed in his mind: They don't fight fair.
The whispers grew louder, filling the boardroom. Adrian's empire—the fortress he had built—was cracking under the weight of shadows.
He slammed his hand against the table, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Sit down!"
The executives froze, fear etched into their faces. Adrian's gaze swept the room, his control slipping but his defiance burning.
"This is my empire," he growled. "And no ghost, no curse, will take it from me."
But as he spoke, the glass wall behind him cracked, a jagged line splitting the reflection. The faceless figures pressed closer, their whispers rising into a chorus.
And for the first time, Adrian realized the curse wasn't confined to his penthouse. It was spreading—into his empire, into his world.
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