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2024-10-29 19:42:56The following morning, the sun’s rays filtered through the blinds in Mackin Jones’ office, casting long shadows over the polished mahogany desk. The air was thick with the impending fallout, a storm brewing beneath the calm exterior of the city skyline. Lambo was already seated, watching the news report flash across the large flat screen mounted on the wall.
"Breaking news," the anchor announced, her face serious, "Major developments in the Mackin family scandal. Bruno Mackin, once the most prominent figure in the family, is now implicated in a multimillion-dollar embezzlement scheme. Documents obtained by the media show years of financial misconduct, including syphoning funds from family businesses and contributing to the downfall of his relatives."
Jones entered the room quietly, his eyes never leaving the screen. He poured himself a coffee, the corners of his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles as the weight of the morning’s headlines settled into place.
Lambo glanced up at him, leaning back in his chair. “It’s all out there now. The world knows who Bruno is.”
Jones nodded slowly. “And so does the family. This is just the beginning.”
Lambo shifted a glint of concern in his usually sharp eyes. “What about Drake? You know he won’t just sit back and let this happen. Bruno might be down, but Drake’s already planning his next move.”
Jones sipped his coffee, his face a mask of calm. “Drake has always been a loose cannon. But he’s predictable. I have a plan.”
Lambo frowned. “Do you think he’s going to play by the rules this time?”
Jones placed the cup down on the table, the soft clink echoing in the room. “Drake never plays by the rules, but that’s why he’ll lose. He’s driven by desperation now, not strategy. He’ll come for me... and when he does, he won’t see what’s coming.”
Meanwhile, in a secluded part of the city, Drake stood before a full-length mirror in his penthouse, adjusting the cufflinks on his sleeves. His movements were sharp and calculated, each adjustment a reflection of his rising frustration. He had lost control, and it was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.
His phone buzzed on the counter, and he reached for it, his eyes narrowing at the screen. It was an encrypted message — one of the many underground contacts he had cultivated over the years.
It’s done. We’re ready. All we need is your go-ahead.
Drake smirked, his mind already racing through the possibilities. “Jones thinks he’s outsmarted me,” he muttered to himself, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “He thinks he can just waltz in and take everything.” He laughed bitterly. “But I’ve waited too long for this. If he wants a war, I’ll give him one.”
A knock sounded at the door. Drake turned sharply, his face hardening as his mother, Jacqueline, stepped in.
“Drake,” she began, her voice cold, “what is your next move?”
He adjusted the collar of his shirt, glancing at his mother’s reflection in the mirror. “What do you think? Jones may have embarrassed my father, but I’ll tear him apart before he ever becomes the heir.”
Jacqueline sighed, stepping further into the room. “Your father’s in the hospital, Drake. This is about more than just a family feud now. Jones holds all the cards.”
Drake turned to face her, his jaw clenched. “He doesn’t hold all the cards. I still have control over some of the family assets. And I have a way to turn this around.”
“And what exactly do you plan to do?” Jacqueline raised an eyebrow, scepticism clear in her voice.
Drake stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I have connections. People who don’t care about rules or reputation. We’ll hit him where he’s weakest.”
Jacqueline’s eyes darkened. “You’re going to use force? Is that what you’ve been reduced to?”
“Force is the only thing men like Jones understand,” Drake shot back. “He can manipulate the media all he wants, but when push comes to shove, it’s about power. And I have no problem taking it by any means necessary.”
His mother looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter but laced with warning. “Be careful, Drake. You may not like the outcome of the path you’re choosing.”
Drake sneered. “I’ll make sure Jones regrets ever coming back.”
Back at the mansion, Mackin Jones walked through the grand halls of his newly acquired estate, his steps echoing in the empty corridors. He could feel the shift in the atmosphere. The calm before the inevitable storm.
He stopped by the portrait gallery—large, imposing paintings of his ancestors lined the walls. His eyes lingered on the image of his father, a man he had idolised, even though his life had been cut tragically short. Jones’s hands clenched into fists as the memories of his father’s death flooded his mind. The betrayal, the lies, the manipulation by the very family that was supposed to protect him.
He wouldn’t let history repeat itself. Not again.
A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. It was Lana. Her presence, usually cold and calculating, was different today. There was a vulnerability in her eyes, something he hadn’t seen in years.
“Mackin,” she said quietly, stepping into the room. “I didn’t know if you’d see me.”
Jones turned, his expression unreadable. “What do you want, Lana?”
She hesitated, wringing her hands together as she stood in front of him. “I made a mistake,” she whispered. “I know I betrayed you. I know I... I hurt you in ways I can’t take back. But I’m here because... I don’t want to lose you again.”
Jones’s eyes darkened, the years of betrayal flashing in his mind. “You already lost me, Lana. The moment you sided with your parents, the moment you humiliated me in front of them, you chose your side.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Lana’s voice cracked. “I was stupid, blinded by my parents' lies and greed. But I know now. I know that I love you.”
Jones stared at her, his heart as hard as steel. “Love? You think what we had was love?” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You don’t know the meaning of love, Lana. You chose power, money, and status over loyalty. And now that I have all of those things, you want to come crawling back?”
Lana’s eyes filled with tears. “Please, Mackin. I’m begging you. Give me a second chance.”
Jones let out a bitter laugh, turning away from her. “A second chance? After everything?”
Lana reached out, grabbing his arm. “I’ll do anything to make it right.”
He pulled his arm away, his voice ice-cold. “It’s too late, Lana. You made your choice. Now live with it.”
Lana took a step back, her face crumpling as the weight of his rejection settled in. She wiped her tears, straightening her shoulders as she looked at him one last time. “You’ll regret this, Mackin. You’ll regret turning me away.”
Jones didn’t flinch. “Get out.”
Without another word, Lana turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing through the mansion as she disappeared.
Jones stood there for a moment, the silence suffocating. He knew Lana wasn’t the real threat. The real threat was Drake, lurking in the shadows, plotting his revenge. But Jones wasn’t afraid. He had faced worse, and he had come out on top.
He would handle Drake the same way he handled everyone else who crossed him.
With precision.
With power.
And without mercy.
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