The silence after Howard Crane's termination was louder than the storm that came before it.
His office was cleared within an hour. No goodbye emails, no explanations to staff. One moment he was the loudest voice in the room, and the next—he was gone. Just a whisper in a hallway no one dared speak too loudly in.
But the damage had been done.
Alex could feel it. In the way the employees spoke softer when he passed by. In the way board members looked at him—not with curiosity this time, but caution. Like they'd just realized he wasn't just a placeholder.
He was willing to bite back.
Still, something in him didn't sit right.
It wasn't the decision—Howard had betrayed the company. The proof was there, and Alex didn't regret acting fast.
It was what it meant. That betrayal had happened under his nose. So early. So easily.
If Howard had played him… who else might be pretending?
That night, he sat in the estate's garden alone, the city lights sparkling below like a universe he no longer belonged to. He used to dream about sitting high above the world. Now that he was here, it just felt... exposed.
Callum joined him, uninvited but welcome.
"Figured you'd be out here," he said, handing over a mug of black coffee.
"You figured right."
They sat in silence for a while. Crickets filled the air with soft static. Somewhere in the trees, a fountain gurgled like a restless heartbeat.
"Do you ever feel like the higher you climb, the less people you can trust?" Alex asked finally.
Callum gave a dry laugh. "That's not a feeling. That's a fact."
"I keep wondering who's next," Alex admitted. "Howard was smart. Polished. Knew everyone's name. And he was the first to go for my throat."
"You think this world runs on loyalty?" Callum said, leaning back. "It runs on leverage. And the moment someone thinks they've got more to gain by removing you, they'll try. That's why you keep your eyes open."
Alex looked down at the mug in his hands. His reflection stared back in the dark liquid—tired, a little older than he felt the day before.
"Then how do you build anything that lasts?" he asked quietly. "How do you trust anyone?"
Callum shrugged. "Carefully. Slowly. One brick at a time."
Alex nodded. "Then I guess it's time I started laying the first ones."
The next morning, he called a private meeting—just six people. Elizabeth, Callum, and four others who held direct influence over the daily running of the Consortium: Ava Monroe, head of marketing; Nikhil Jain, chief of strategy; Marcus Lane, the youngest board advisor; and Lana Drew, the sharp, quiet one who ran HR like a fortress.
He wanted to read them for himself.
He kept the meeting informal. Coffee and pastries on the table. No suits. Just talk.
He started with transparency. Told them about the leak. About Howard. About the voicemail threat, too.
Their reactions were mixed. Some surprised. Some not.
"What I need now," Alex said, "isn't just support. It's honesty. From this point forward, this group—you six—are my inner circle. If something's wrong, I want to hear it first from you. If someone screws up, I'd rather know than be lied to."
Ava leaned back in her seat. "You want honesty? Fine. Most of us thought you wouldn't last the month."
Alex smiled faintly. "Good to know."
"But," she continued, "you handled Crane the right way. And you didn't hide it. That earned points."
Nikhil nodded. "You acted decisively. That matters more in this room than experience ever will."
Marcus gave a half shrug. "You're young. You'll make mistakes. The question is, will you listen when we warn you about them?"
Alex met each of their gazes one by one. "I will. If you tell me straight."
The meeting ended on a surprisingly solid note. For the first time since inheriting the empire, Alex didn't feel like he was swimming alone. There were still sharks in the water, sure—but maybe now he had a crew on the ship with him.
He spent the rest of the day checking departments, holding one-on-one talks, rebuilding the bridge between him and the machine he was now steering. Some conversations were awkward. Some went better than expected. He even made a few people laugh.
And slowly, a rhythm started forming.
Until just past sunset, when something snapped that rhythm in half.
Elizabeth found him in the main office, pacing through a financial report.
"We have a problem," she said quietly.
Alex looked up. "What now?"
"One of our employees in security flagged something weird. Thought it might be nothing. But he ran a system audit anyway."
"And?"
She handed him a file folder. Inside was a printout of several screenshots—server logs, password access logs, and a message trail.
"What am I looking at?"
Elizabeth pointed to the second page. "There's a second account running under your name. Internal access. Same privileges as the one you use."
Alex's blood ran cold.
"That's impossible. I've only got one."
"I know. This one was created the morning after your appointment as CEO. Whoever made it copied your credentials. They've been accessing sensitive files for the past week—including Howard's personnel file. And yours."
Alex stared at the screen. "Howard?"
"Yes. The leak didn't start with him. He was leaking—but someone planted evidence to make it look like he was the only one."
"So someone wanted me to fire him."
Elizabeth's voice lowered. "And if that's true, it means Howard might not have been working alone. Or worse—he was being used."
Alex looked up. "Who else has the clearance to clone my credentials?"
She didn't answer.
He already knew.
Only someone inside his closest circle could've done it.
And not just anyone.
Someone who knew him. Someone who had his trust.
He didn't sleep again that night.
Instead, he reviewed footage. Logs. Conversations.
And somewhere near midnight, something clicked.
A pattern.
A quiet moment during a past meeting. A file handed to him too early. A glance shared when Howard was escorted out.
He picked up his phone and called Callum.
"Meet me in the study," he said.
Callum showed up ten minutes later, tie undone, sleeves rolled up.
"What's wrong?"
Alex tossed the folder on the table.
"You tell me."
Callum opened it. His face didn't change. Not at first.
"I don't know what this is," he said evenly.
"Don't lie to me."
"Alex—"
"You were the only one who pushed me to fire Howard that fast," Alex said. "The others wanted a quiet investigation. You said to make an example of him. And you were the one who gave me the report that pinned it all on him."
Callum's jaw tightened. "I did it to protect you. He was dangerous."
"You cloned my account," Alex said, voice low. "You fed me just enough information to push me to a decision. You wanted Howard out. And you wanted it done publicly."
Callum didn't deny it.
He just stared at the floor.
Alex stepped forward. "Why?"
Silence.
Then—finally—Callum looked up.
"Because I needed you to look powerful. You came in green. Unprepared. If you didn't make a move, they'd have eaten you alive. I gave you the chance to set a tone."
"You set me up," Alex said, stunned. "You used me."
"I gave you what you needed. And it worked."
Alex's fists clenched. "You made me fire a man who could've helped us."
Callum's voice softened. "Or he could've gutted you the first chance he got. You think these people play fair? I've been in this world longer than you. I've seen what happens when leaders hesitate."
"You betrayed my trust," Alex said.
Callum didn't flinch. "And you're still standing. Stronger than before."
Alex stared at him, heart pounding.
For the first time, he didn't know if he felt more betrayed… or more afraid.
Because Callum wasn't just a liar.
He was good at it.
And now, he knew what Alex was willing to do.
Later that night, as Callum left the study, he walked past a hallway mirror.
He paused.
Smoothed his jacket.
And smiled.
Behind him, Alex watched from the shadows.
He didn't say a word.
But one thought echoed in his mind, louder than anything else.
I just made my first enemy. And he's still standing beside me.