JULIUS
The cold stream of water rushed down my body, sharp and merciless, silencing the endless noise in my head. Adrenaline replaced thought, clarity cutting through me like a blade. Today was mine.
I stepped out of the shower, towel slung low around my waist. The mirror fogged, but my reflection stared back—hard eyes, sharper edges, the smirk of a man already victorious.
The closet door opened to a familiar ritual. I reached for my weapon of choice—not steel, but fabric. A crisp, ironed white shirt. A double-breasted Kiton suit in black, tailored perfectly to my form. Trousers pressed clean. A deep maroon tie, the shade of blood caught under candlelight. To seal the look, a heavy black overcoat. Power stitched into every seam.
I tugged on my black leather gloves, flexing them tight. In my right hand, a cigarette smoldered, smoke curling in lazy defiance.
Louis entered without knocking. Reliable, steady as always. "Sir, the press conference begins in one hour. Reporters are in place. Everything is set."
"Good work, Louis," I said, straightening my cuff. Together we strode through the mansion's wide hallway, our steps echoing against polished marble.
At the entrance, Louis opened the car door. The leather interior welcomed me as I sank in, the engine humming low and steady. The city blurred past the tinted glass, faceless and irrelevant. All that mattered was the stage ahead.
Minutes later, the venue loomed large, already swarming. Cameras exploded in rapid fire as I stepped out, the air sharp with the shouts of paparazzi. I didn't spare them a glance. Their noise was nothing but static.
Inside, people turned, smiles plastered across faces, voices laced with forced warmth. I brushed past them all. Pleasantries were for men who begged for approval. I had no need for it.
Twenty minutes later, I was seated at the front. The hall silenced as I rose, the weight of the room bowing under my gaze.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, my tone measured, "thank you for being here today.
Business is not just numbers and profits—it is vision. It is resilience. Above all, it is loyalty. We have faced storms before, and every time, we emerged sharper and stronger. Challenges are not weakness. They are opportunities.
Today, I am proud to announce a new chapter. The Joseph Group, once our rivals, are rivals no more. Their empire, their assets, their legacy… now belongs to us. Effective immediately."
Gasps rippled across the room. Cameras flashed, pens scratched furiously, reporters leaned forward as if the words themselves burned.
"Betrayal," I continued, my voice lowering, "always comes with a price. They thought our struggles made us weak. They mistook my patience for defeat. And today, they pay for that mistake.
To our partners and investors—your loyalty will never be forgotten. To those who doubt us—consider this your warning. We are not here to survive. We are here to lead.
The future is ours to claim. And I will take it without hesitation."
The hall erupted in chaos. Questions hurled from every corner, camera flashes like gunfire. I smirked, adjusted my tie, and stepped down from the stage. I had no intention of wasting my time. I had said what mattered. Only fools linger on explanations.
Outside, I signed for Louis to ready the car. We had another engagement—one far more personal. My favorite kind of engagement.
Minutes later, we were back at my estate. Tonight's guest had already arrived. Joseph.
The man sat stiff at my dining table, sweat rolling down his temple despite the warmth of the room. I took my seat across from him, resting back with deliberate ease.
"What would you like to eat, Joseph?" I asked, smirking as his eyes darted nervously. The fear clung to him like a stench.
"Ju–Julius," he stammered, voice trembling, "I—I lost my mind before. I was a fool to betray you. Please, forgive me. I beg you."
I studied him for a moment, then exhaled a quiet laugh. "Hmm. Looks like you've lost your appetite. Shame. I thought I'd be generous, give you one last meal. But if you don't want it…" I let the pause stretch, watching him squirm. "It's fine."
His desperation spilled over, words tripping as he pleaded. "Please, Julius. Please, forgive me—I'll be loyal, I swear it. I'll never betray you again."
"Damn, Joseph," I said, tilting my head, a smile curling at my lips, "you wear fear well. It suits you."
His shoulders sagged with relief when I leaned back and added, "But tonight, you're lucky. I'm in a good mood. I don't want to see blood tonight. So no—I won't take your life."
Tears welled in his eyes, his voice breaking as he stammered, "Thank you, Julius. Thank you—I'll be grateful for the rest of my life."
I leaned forward, my gaze locking on his. "You didn't let me finish. I won't take your life. But my men will. You're lucky, Joseph—you get the easy way. Quick. Painless. If it were me, you'd be begging for death before I was through."
His chair screeched against the floor as he stood, panic flooding his features. "No—no, Julius, you can't—"
"Oh, yes, I can." My smile widened, calm and unshakable.
I rose, turned my back, and gave the signal. My men closed in. Joseph's screams rang behind me as I walked away with Louis at my side.
Outside the room, the night air felt sharper, cleaner. The taste of power settled heavy on my tongue. Joseph's death was more than punishment—it was a lesson.
In my world, betrayal is simple math. One action, one consequence. And I? I am the one who delivers it.
The grim reaper in a tailored suit.