The city had not yet recovered from the fall of the Armitages, Cavanaughs, and Duvalls. Their empires, once pillars of wealth and influence, now belonged to Lucius. The newspapers whispered of sudden collapses and mysterious buyouts, but few dared to print the truth. In the silence of fear, Victor Draemont's shadow spread further.
Yet behind the polished doors of other corporate towers, unease twisted into panic. The remaining magnates, older and richer than the three who fell, convened in secrecy. Their voices cracked with dread as they argued.
"He is consuming everything," a trembling man said, wiping sweat from his brow. "One by one, our houses are falling. If Draemont continues, there will be nothing left."
A woman slammed her glass against the table. "We cannot sit idle. Lucius is not a man—he is a monster. And Victor Draemont is his blade. If we do not unite, we are finished."
They signed an agreement of war, swearing to bring down the Tycoon before he devoured them all. Banks pooled resources, corporations merged, and mercenaries were hired in droves. The boardroom had become a battlefield, and for the first time in decades, the wealthy prepared for war.
But Lucius already knew. In his estate, his crimson eyes glowed faintly as he sat in silence, his council gathered before him. "They unite against me," he said softly, his voice smooth as venom. "Good. Let them. The more they gather, the easier it is to break them."
Victor smiled faintly, adjusting his cufflinks. "They believe numbers will save them. But I have already sewn rot into their foundations. Tonight, I show them how wealth becomes chains."
Darius cracked his neck. "And when they break, I will scatter their bones across the pavement."
Ravenna licked her lips, her eyes wild with anticipation. "How sweet their screams will be when they realize the Devil was watching all along."
Silvio leaned forward, pointing at the documents spread across the table. "Our enemies have pooled funds into three central banks. Their lifeline runs through those vaults. Cut them, and their armies vanish overnight."
Adrian Crowe smirked, his hands folded like a preacher. "The law is already prepared to bleed them dry. They will not see my strings until the gallows tighten."
Cain Mortalis stood silent, polishing his axe. His silence was not emptiness but a promise.
Lucius raised his hand. "Victor, this is your battlefield. Burn their wealth, then their bodies. Let the city see how powerless kings become when their gold no longer answers them."
Victor Draemont bowed. "As you command, my lord."
The first strike fell with surgical precision. Overnight, Victor's agents infiltrated the united corporations. Stock markets trembled as shares plummeted in orchestrated crashes. Quiet rumors spread of bankruptcy, of scandal, of debts too great to survive.
By morning, two of the magnates awoke to discover billions erased from their accounts. The media feasted on the chaos, not realizing Victor himself had lit the fire.
The corporations retaliated with lawsuits, but Adrian Crowe tore them apart in court. Judges leaned toward his arguments with uncanny devotion, each word he spoke turning the law into a blade.
Frustrated, the magnates unleashed their mercenaries. Private armies marched through the streets, masked as security forces, seizing offices tied to Draemont. Their goal was to cripple his empire through force.
But Darius and Cain were waiting. In a blood-soaked night, the mercenaries were torn apart. Bodies hung in alleys, axes dripped red, and whispers spread that to cross Victor was to invite slaughter.
Silvio, watching from the shadows, spread false information among the magnates. Their alliances fractured overnight, each family suspecting betrayal. Paranoia ate them alive as they wasted resources fighting one another.
Victor pressed harder. With Ravenna at his side, he stormed corporate towers, his presence as terrifying as any battlefield general. Ravenna carved through guards with gleeful laughter while Victor walked calmly through boardrooms, forcing CEOs to sign their empires away.
By the fifth night, their resistance collapsed. Corporations fell one by one, their owners fleeing the city in disgrace. Some begged for mercy, others tried to bargain, but all found themselves crushed beneath Victor's careful hand.
The city began whispering a new name: The Tycoon's Shadow. To speak of Victor Draemont was to speak of a man untouchable, a phantom who turned fortunes into chains and empires into ashes.
In the estate, Victor knelt before Lucius, his voice steady but laced with reverence. "My lord, the boardrooms are yours. Their thrones are shattered, their crowns dissolved. None may raise wealth without kneeling before you."
Lucius leaned forward, his crimson gaze locking on Victor. "You have done well. The city now fears my coffers as much as my blade. But remember, fear is never satisfied. It must always be fed."
Victor bowed deeply, the shadow of a smirk crossing his lips. "Then I will keep feeding it, my lord, until the world itself belongs to you."
But outside the estate, beyond the city, whispers grew darker. A foreign consortium had been watching, their eyes fixed on Lucius and Victor's rise. Unlike the local magnates, they were older, richer, and far more ruthless. And they were preparing to intervene.
The war of shadows had only begun.