Dinning turned into battleground

James Mackenzie sat in his luxurious bedroom, surrounded by the opulence he had grown accustomed to. His wife, Martha, busied herself in front of the mirror, trying on various outfits for the upcoming company event. The celebration marked a significant milestone - 20 years since the company's founding, and James's mind was preoccupied with his own ambitions.

As Martha asked for his opinion on her attire, James's responses were distracted and half-hearted. His thoughts were consumed by his longstanding desire to overthrow Stephen as CEO and claim the position for himself or his son, Will. The challenge lay in achieving this without sparking a fierce battle.

Martha, oblivious to her husband's scheming, continued to admire herself in the mirror. "I think I need to buy some new clothes,honey," she said, her eyes scanning her reflection.

James's mind, however, had already wandered to darker territory. An sinister idea had taken hold, and a malevolent grin spread across his face.

Martha noticed the smile and approached him, curious. "What's amusing you, dear?"

James's expression transformed into a charming smile, a mask to conceal his true intentions. "Just admiring your beauty, my dear. You look stunning, as always." He paused, feigning nostalgia. "Remember our first date? You took my breath away then, just as you do now."

The lie rolled off his tongue with ease, a skill he had honed over the years. Martha's eyes sparkled, unaware of the sinister thoughts lurking beneath her husband's charming facade.

Meanwhile, Stephen, the CEO, had just returned from a visit to the Macdonald family, accompanied by Kyra, Lyra's mother and brother. The warm hospitality he had received during his stay had left him feeling grateful and at peace. Little did he know, a storm was brewing in the mind of James Mackenzie, a storm that threatened to destroy everything he had, and even end his life.

James Mackenzie arrived at Stanley's building, a hub for illegal activities. The casino on the first floor was just the tip of the iceberg. The elevator led to Stanley's office on the second floor, while the third floor housed a brothel, and the fourth floor was used for illicit human trafficking deals. James was well aware of Stanley's criminal empire, and he had a secret that could bring it all crashing down.

As he entered the building, Stanley greeted him with a nod. "James Mackenzie. What brings you here? Have a seat but I won't offer you anything to drink," Stanley's arrogance was palpable, but James just laughed. "Still as rude as ever, Stanley."

Stanley smirked. "No need for small talk, James. What do you want?"

James got straight to the point. "I want you to take out Stephen. He's become a liability, and I'm willing to pay top dollar for your services."

Stanley raised an eyebrow. "You want me to kill him? Why would I do that? He's my friend, just like you."

James leaned in, his voice low and menacing. "Let's just say I have leverage, Stanley. You see, I know about the little incident with MacDonald, Lyra's father, the man you killed years back. The drunk driving incident that ended in tragedy. You thought you'd covered your tracks, but I have the evidence. The CCTV footage, the witness statements... everything."

Stanley's eyes narrowed, his face pale. "How did you...?"

James smiled. "Let's just say I have my ways. Now, are you going to do what I ask, or do I need to remind you of your secrets?"

"You can't threaten me,I don't even know his name or his family for your information so leave my office."

"How about I keep your secret buried forever and also pay you a billion dollars for this?" James calmly offered.

Stanley's eyes widened at the mention of 1 billion dollars. "Fine, I'll do it. I'll take care of Stephen on the day of the J's company event. But you have to promise me one thing: you'll destroy the evidence, and we'll call it even."

James grinned, satisfied with the deal. "I promise you, Stanley. The evidence will disappear, and you'll be free to continue your... extracurricular activities."

With the agreement reached, James left the building, knowing that Stanley would take care of Stephen. He had held onto Stanley's secret for years, to use it to manipulate him into doing his bidding, just at the right time. And now, it was time to collect on that debt.

The atmosphere at the Martins' residence was lively, with Raphael, his mother, baby Matthew in his baby walker, and Maria, the nanny, all seated in the dining area. Sophia descended the stairs, her presence commanding attention. She greeted everyone with a warm smile and took her seat beside Raphael, her husband.

"Good morning, everyone," Sophia said, her eyes scanning the table. "What's going on?"

Raphael's gaze locked onto hers, his eyes piercing. "We were just discussing the peculiar absence of breakfast," he said, his tone hinting at a deeper concern.

Sophia's brow furrowed. "Oh? I thought Maria was taking care of that."

Maria, the nanny, spoke up, "I was, ma'am, but with the house maid position still vacant, I've been handling both roles. I didn't have time to prepare breakfast this morning."

Raphael's eyes never left Sophia's face. "That's understandable, Maria. But what's troubling me is that this isn't the first time we've had issues with staff duties. It seems like there's a lack of organization in the household."

Sophia's expression turned defensive. "I'll take care of it, Raphael. I'll make sure to hire a new house maid and get the household running smoothly again."

Raphael's gaze intensified. "See that you do, Sophia. I expect order in our home."

The tension between them was palpable, and the others at the table sensed it. Baby Matthew's babbling and Maria's attempts to engage in conversation couldn't ease the strain. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the breakfast table felt like a battlefield.

Raphael's eyes burned with intensity as he asked, "that's by the way, Sophia, do you know that I would do anything for my love for you?"

Sophia's response was barely above a whisper. "Yes, I know."

The air was charged with romance, and for a moment, it seemed like they were the only two in the room.

But Sophia's gaze shifted, and she asked, "Why is everyone sitting around like this? Where's breakfast? like, Maria, no matter how busy you are, can't you fix something at all?"

Raphael's expression turned serious. "Before we get to that, promise me you'll answer every question I ask you truthfully, without mistakes."

"What's it? What promise?" Sophia asked

"Promise me first."

Sophia's eyes locked onto his. "Fine, I promise, Raphael. I'll tell you the truth."

Raphael's next question came swiftly. "When was the last time you breastfed Matthew?"

Sophia's hesitation was palpable. She seemed to search for an answer, her mind racing with the implications of the question. Finally, she replied with a question of her own. "What kind of question is that, Raphael?"

Raphael's gaze never wavered. "Never mind. Let's move on. What happened with Dorothy, our former house help? She just disappeared without a word, didn't she?"

Sophia's stutter betrayed her nervousness. "I-I don't know, Raphael. She resigned without telling me too."

Raphael's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Without telling you too? That's strange, don't you think?"

The tension in the room escalated, the silence deafening. Baby Matthew's coos and Maria's attempts to intervene couldn't ease the strain. It was clear that Raphael was digging for something, and Sophia was hiding secrets. The breakfast table had become a battleground, with truth and deception hanging in the balance.