The air inside the Crestview Spa Lounge was thick with the scent of sandalwood and lavender.
Soft music played in the background, an elegant, almost deceptive contrast to the two men currently plotting within the lavish, dimly lit room.
Richard Morrison, the handsome and charismatic CEO of the Morrison® brand, lounged in a cushioned recliner, draped in a silk robe.
His main medium of entertainment — a newspaper lay open in his hands, the headline barely of interest to him — his mind was far more occupied with schemes of his own.
Behind him, Catherine Langley, the media manager of Business Everyday, kneaded his shoulders with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to apply pressure.
She wet her palms with an expensive golden balm, then rubbed it gently from his shoulders down to his back.
Even for his age, Richard still had a fairly toned and able body. A result of extravagant treatments such as this.
Standing a few feet away, arms sunk into the pockets of his suit's trousers, was Ryan Anders.
Unlike Morrison, he wasn't one for indulgence. He didn't enjoy soft and delicate this, he found pleasure in more exciting yet forbidden acts.
But for today, he was about business. As he floated in thought, his gaze was dark, his lips pressed into a line, considering the moves ahead after the specific courses of events that had happened the last day.
"You've been quiet, Ryan," Morrison murmured without looking up from his newspaper. "Unusual for a man who enjoys the sound of his own thoughts."
Ryan smirked, barely. "Thinking."
"A dangerous pastime."
"The most rewarding one," Ryan countered smoothly.
Morrison chuckled, finally folding his newspaper and setting it aside. He took a sip of the whiskey beside him, the ice clinking softly. "I assume you've come with good news?"
Ryan exhaled, stepping forward. "I've been consolidating our approach. If we want Miss Cheyenne Lamb out of the Empire Companies, we have to be precise."
Morrison tilted his head back, considering. "Ah. Precision. You've always been a sharpshooter, Ryan. We also have to be ruthless, don't you think?"
Ryan nodded. "Of course."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"We're going to need the Sinclairs, the Zurichs, and the Nelsons," Ryan stated. "They've all suffered losses because of Cheyenne. If we can make them see that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to crush her, they'll bite."
Morrison smirked. "The Sinclairs are greedy. Dangle enough money in front of them, and they'll bend. Is that not why their own daughter wants to create a company away from theirs. Foolish people they are."
Ryan nodded. "Yes, it is an interesting case. I reckon the Zurichs are more difficult. They don't trust easily, but if we fabricate evidence of Cheyenne moving against them, they'll retaliate instinctively."
"And the Nelsons?" Morrison arched an eyebrow.
Ryan's smirk deepened. "Give them a scandal. Their son is very smart, he's running most of the business well as of recently. Even after the robbery he'd managed to bounce back. But I don't think they could survive a scandal in the midst of it."
Morrison let out a laugh, short and pleased. "That's why I like you, Anders. Always thinking three steps ahead."
Ryan allowed himself a small, knowing smile. "We make it seem like Cheyenne's been cooking the books, and the Nelsons — self-righteous as they are — will call for her head before anyone else does."
Catherine, still working her fingers into Morrison's shoulders, let out a quiet hum of amusement. "I think it is brilliant, sir," she murmured. "Pit them against her and watch them tear her apart."
Ryan frowned, narrowing his eyes at the woman. 'Who told the whore to talk?' he thought. 'These stupid women need to learn to speak only when spoken to.'
Morrison exhaled, still enjoying the idea. "And once the Sinclairs, Zurichs, and Nelsons push her to the edge, we swoop in as the saviors?"
Ryan nodded. "Exactly. A clean transition. Once the dust settles, we take her place. Her loan privileges, tax cuts, all the merits she enjoys by being an Empire Company."
Morrison sighed in satisfaction. "Now that… is what I like to hear." His eyes narrowed. "Though, there is a question. What if another company rises to take her place before we have the chance?"
"It won't happen," Ryan replied confidently. "When companies see that even the great Bordeaux Corporation could fall, they wouldn't dare compete with Morrison's®, or Moon Enterprises."
Richard laughed. "You are my favorite person to be around, Ryan Anders."
He smiled.
For a while, silence filled the room. .
Then Morrison moaned. "You're doing a fine job there, Catherine."
"Thank you, sir," she replied with a nervous smile.
Morrison remembered something. "Say, that girl, the reporter… she left?"
Catherine stiffened slightly. "Yes. Brooklyn refused to back down. Said she'd rather be fired."
Morrison expressed a frown. "A shame. I would've liked to keep her around. She's got a pretty face." His fingers drummed against the armrest. "Would've made a fine addition to my personal collection."
Catherine smirked but remained silent.
Then Morrison's eyes flickered toward her, sharper now. "Did you let her keep the exposè?"
Catherine stilled.
"…I didn't think she'd—"
Morrison sat forward slowly. "You didn't stop her?" His tone was dangerous now, the amusement in his voice all but gone. "Catherine… do you realize that means Brooklyn has no restraints now. She can leak the story if she wants."
Catherine swallowed. "She has no platform."
"She doesn't need one," Ryan interjected. His voice was calm but edged. "All it takes is for a popular enough magazine or newspaper to get a hold of it, and we're dealing with a very public mess."
Morrison scowled. "Tch. I always wonder if we should just abandon that fool Smithers and his company. I don't know why Archibald likes him so much."
He turned his gaze back to Ryan. "Speaking of, have you handled the loose end he told you of?"
Ryan's expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing. "No."
Morrison's frown deepened. "Why the hell not?"
Ryan exhaled. "We've halted it indefinitely."
Morrison narrowed his eyes, knowing that Ryan was up to something. "And why exactly would we do that?"
Ryan's voice was firm. "Because the name of this person is very special to me." He stared at the wall. "This person you see, is my soulmate. My friend."
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And through the grand entrance of Golden Hay Hotels, Darren Steele stepped in, with Rachel by his side.