THE BUSINESS OF POWER

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Chapter 9: The Business of Power

The gala was a battlefield.

Zane had never cared much for business events—too many fake smiles, too many people pretending to care about things they didn't. But tonight was different. Tonight, he wasn't just here for Harrington Luxe.

Tonight, he found himself standing between Vincent Graves and the wolves.

The whispers had started early in the evening. Investors, industry elites, even so-called friends of Vincent—all quietly questioning him. Graves Corp's latest deal had been ruthless, its consequences bleeding into the financial world. Vincent didn't care about the criticism, of course. He never did.

But Zane? He did.

He hadn't planned on getting involved. But when a well-dressed CEO chuckled into his champagne glass and muttered, "Graves thinks he's untouchable. One wrong move, and he'll be nothing. A self-made empire can collapse just as quickly as it rose," something in Zane snapped.

"Funny," Zane said, turning smoothly, his voice casual but laced with ice. "I don't remember you being the one sitting across from billion-dollar deals. Or leading a global conglomerate."

The CEO blinked, caught off guard. "I was just making an observation—"

"A weak one," Zane interrupted with a smirk. "If Graves were as fragile as you claim, you wouldn't be whispering about him at a party—you'd be doing something about it."

The surrounding group fell silent, shifting uncomfortably.

Then, a deep voice cut through the tension. "I don't recall asking for your defense, Harrington."

Zane turned to find Vincent standing behind him, arms crossed, his sharp eyes unreadable.

"You're welcome," Zane said, taking a sip of his drink.

Vincent stepped closer, his voice lower. "I don't need a knight in shining armor."

"Who said I was doing it for you?" Zane tilted his head. "I just hate listening to idiots talk."

For a second, something flickered in Vincent's expression—something almost amused.

But before either of them could push the moment further, Zane's father's voice rang through the room.

"Zane."

The weight behind that one word was enough to make Zane stiffen. He turned, facing Richard Harrington, the man who had never once believed he was capable of running their family business. Beside him stood Nathan Harrington, the golden son, the heir, the perfect one.

Zane forced a grin. "Father. Brother. Enjoying the show?"

Richard's gaze flicked between him and Vincent before settling on his son with quiet disapproval. "I didn't expect you to spend the evening… defending our competition."

Zane clenched his jaw. "Last I checked, I decide who I speak to."

Nathan sighed, shaking his head. "Come on, Zane. Don't embarrass yourself."

The words hit like a gut punch, but Zane didn't let it show. Instead, he chuckled. "Right. Wouldn't want to ruin the Harrington reputation."

Vincent, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "If you're worried about reputations, perhaps you should be more concerned about the fact that your 'perfect son' has been leaking information to competitors."

Nathan stiffened, while Richard's expression darkened.

Zane blinked, surprised. "What?"

Vincent's smirk was razor-sharp. "Oh, did I say that out loud?"

The tension in the room spiked, and for once, Zane wasn't the one causing it.

And damn, it felt good to be on this side of the chaos.

The tension in the gala had reached its peak. Zane and Vincent had drawn attention after their argument with Richard and Nathan, but Vincent remained unnervingly composed.

Nathan, ever the golden boy of the Harrington family, smirked at Vincent. "You don't belong in this world, Graves. Some of us were born to lead; others, like you, clawed your way up from the dirt. But no matter how much money you make, you'll always be an outsider."

Zane clenched his jaw, about to fire back, but Vincent raised a hand, stopping him. Instead of reacting emotionally, Vincent reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his phone. With a single tap, he projected an image onto the large screen behind the gala's stage.

Silence fell over the room. The image showed confidential documents—leaked financial statements, contracts, and emails. And at the center of it all—Nathan's name.

Zane's stomach dropped.

"What is this?" Richard demanded, his voice sharp.

Vincent leaned back, eyes cold and calculating. "Evidence," he said simply. "Nathan has been selling Harrington Enterprises' trade secrets to your biggest competitors."

Gasps echoed through the crowd.

Richard's face paled. Nathan shot to his feet. "This is absurd! You're fabricating evidence—"

Vincent didn't even glance at him. Instead, he turned to Zane.

"Your family has always underestimated you, Zane," Vincent said, voice dangerously calm. "But what do you think your father will do now, knowing his perfect son has been stabbing him in the back?"

Zane's breath hitched.

Nathan turned to Richard, desperation flickering across his face. "Dad—"

Richard raised a hand. His expression was unreadable, but the way his fingers curled into a fist told Zane everything.

The king had found a new pawn to sacrifice.

Vincent smirked, watching it all unfold. "Checkmate."

End of Chapter 9.

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