Revenge will be brutal

New York, September 9th.

The news of Theodore Johnson's death - billionaire and board member of the Golden Stone holding - came as a shock to everyone. He was found dead in his office under the most mysterious circumstances. He had just signed an important donation agreement, transferring his share in the company and his board seat to Hugo Kaiman. A deal no one, not even his family, knew about. But the story was only beginning.

***

One day, sitting at a table in the Dark Taste Café, Jessica was watching Nick Burien. He was the head of security at "Revival Commerce" and often came here for lunch. They had exchanged a few words before, and Jessica hadn't paid much attention to his presence -until today.

Nick, as usual, was at his table with a cup of black tea with lavender. He noticed her, smiled, and said flirtatiously:

"Oh, it's you, Jessica? Can't live without my jokes, huh?"

Jessica walked over to Nick's table with a playful stride, pulled out a chair, and sat down confidently.

"Actually, I'm not tired of you at all, Nick. I just thought you might be useful in one particular matter."

Nick raised an eyebrow; his expression became more attentive.

"What kind of matter?" he asked.

"I've got an idea involving Theodore Johnson. I want what I deserve. I've worked for him for over two years, and he doesn't appreciate it. I'm always in the background."

Nick chuckled, stirring his tea with a spoon, but the interest in his eyes flared up.

"Maybe you want to be the boss, huh?"

Jessica gave him a contemptuous smile, leaning a bit closer.

"Not quite, Nick. I want to know what goes on in the private office when I'm not around. You're head of security - you know what to do."

Nick pondered, chewing over the implications. Jessica hadn't said it outright.

"Wiretapping, Jessica? You want to bug Theo's office? Seriously? And what would you even do with that?"

Jessica leaned in closer, almost whispering:

"It's not just a wiretap, Nick. It's a chance to learn all the secrets. Who's talking to who, and about what. You'll get information, and information means money. You know stuff like that can be sold for a fortune. I can help you. And in return, you help me."

Nick fell silent. He wasn't stupid - he knew this wasn't the kind of thing you pulled off lightly. He leaned back, exhaling:

"I can imagine what happens if we actually sell all that. You think I'm interested in this?"

Jessica looked at him with a steely gaze, though her blood boiled inside. She knew people like Nick would grab any chance to make serious money. Now she just had to push the right buttons.

"Don't you want to know who's behind all these deals? Who's planning what, and how we can profit from it? You're in charge of company security. I think you'd like to know what's going on - and earn from it."

Nick finally realized Jessica wasn't joking. This was serious business. His voice turned firmer.

"I won't get involved if this leads to trouble, Jessica. Do you understand what we're risking here?"

Jessica nodded, her eyes gleaming:

"I know. Trust me. I'm willing to take that risk. Are you?"

Nick couldn't say no. He wasn't naive, and he understood this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. A chance like this didn't come every day.

"Fine. I'll do what you ask. But remember, this may not end the way you want."

Jessica knew she had Nick on a short leash now. She smiled smugly.

"We both know that, Nick."

Revenge is a carefully crafted plan.

A few days later, Nick installed a listening device in Theodore Johnson's office. Meanwhile, Jessica began executing her plan. She signed up for amateur shooting lessons, preparing for any unexpected turn of events. And, of course, to keep Nick close, she began dating him. Nick was pleased with both the professional and romantic relationship, but for Jessica, it was all part of her strategy. She didn't just use him - she enchanted him, kept his attention, and maintained control. Her plans were far-reaching; she wasn't satisfied with merely learning what Theodore was up to. She wanted to control it all, and to do that, she needed people like Nick around her.

That morning, September 9th, Jessica arrived at work as usual at 9:00 AM. Mr. Johnson had informed her he would be coming in at 10:00 AM, unlike his usual late evening arrival.

First, she made herself a light tropical drink of pineapple and coconut water. Today was a special day. Then she checked her email. The office was quiet, and no one had disturbed her yet. The phone rang.

"Good morning, Revival Commerce, Jessica speaking."

"Chirping like a parrot this early - connect me to Theo," Claire Johnson hissed.

"Mrs. Johnson, I'm afraid Mr. Johnson hasn't arrived at work yet," Jessica replied in a calm, professional tone.

"Who do you think you are to 'disappoint' me? Sit there and keep quiet," Claire snapped, unfiltered.

"Have a nice day, Mrs. Johnson."

"Don't tell me what to do, got it? I know perfectly well!" Claire screamed and slammed the phone down.

Jessica stood up, shaking. She walked to the window, clenched her fists, gathering her willpower. Claire's sharp jabs replayed in her mind. Just recently, when colleagues gathered in the foyer to enter Theo's office for a meeting, Claire had shown up unannounced and sneered in front of everyone: "Your cheap perfume reeks from a mile away, Jessica. Try not to let it stick to my husband's suit."

At a corporate party, in the ladies' room, Claire had aggressively grabbed Jessica's arm and spat: "Circling my husband, huh? Remember, you little tramp, your place is by the door! You'll never be on my level!" The other women gasped, expressing sympathy: "How do you stand her? She's a monster."

Jessica exhaled deeply. To herself, she whispered, "Everything will change today. Let's see who ends up where - and on what level."

Jessica Goodin was 29. An attractive brunette. She came from a small town where dreams often shattered against grim reality. She had moved to New York with one goal -to conquer it. This city was not for the weak. In the world of ambition and ruthless competition, you either swim or sink. And Jessica had no intention of sinking. Her dreams were grand - but her ambition was greater.

She had tried modeling, which turned out to be as fragile a bubble as her failed attempts to break into acting. Through it all, she held on to one thought: she had to achieve more. When her film dreams finally collapsed, she pulled herself together, studied business administration, and got a job as a secretary at Revival Commerce. Her two years there weren't just about work - they involved an intimate relationship with Theodore Johnson. To him, Jessica was just a secretary. To her, he was a stepping stone. She wouldn't settle for being the "pretty and smart one." She wanted more. One day, when she voiced her career ambitions, Theodore snapped:

"Remember, you're just my secretary and you'll remain one! But your appetite's like a wild animal's. Don't like serving me? Quit! There are younger, prettier girls ready to take your place."

Jessica hadn't expected such a response. She swallowed her pride. Between Theo's treatment and Claire's constant jabs, everything built up. Everyone has a breaking point. Jessica realized she had to avenge the humiliation. She decided she would do everything to prove Theo and Claire wrong. She wasn't just a "secretary." She would get what was hers - no matter what it took. Revenge would be harsh.

Jessica walked confidently into Theodore Johnson's office. She approached the safe hidden in the closet, entered the code - it hadn't changed. Click. The door opened. Among documents and folders was a .22 caliber pistol. Jessica didn't hesitate. She grabbed it quickly and left the office, closing the door carefully. She stashed the gun in her desk drawer. Now she just had to wait.

At 12:30 PM, Theodore Johnson was deep in conversation with Hugo Kaiman and his lawyer, discussing the final details of their deal. They were so absorbed that none of them noticed Jessica walk in.

"I'm going to lunch a bit early," she said.

"Go wherever, just shut the door," Theodore responded irritably without looking up.

She said nothing and did as told. Through the staff corridor, she headed to Nick Burien's office.

It was locked. "He's probably in the monitoring room," she thought. That's what she called the tech room filled with screens showing live camera feeds. Jessica entered. Nick was lounging in a chair, legs stretched out, half-turned, eyes on the monitors. Surprisingly, no one else was there.

"Hey Nick, where is everyone?"

"Hey gorgeous. They're all at lunch. I'm holding the fort. Boss has guests today? They've been in there a while."

"Yeah, important talks." Jessica stepped closer.

"Theo seems annoyed. Would be good to know what they're discussing."

"We'll know soon, Nick. All of it," she replied smugly.

"I've been meaning to ask - found a buyer for the info yet?"

"Not yet. Don't worry, I've got some ideas."

"Of course, I won't worry when I've got a smart one like you." Nick wrapped his arms around Jessica's waist and rested his head on her stomach. She twirled his hair absentmindedly. Nick whispered about his love for her, how much he needed her. Jessica wasn't listening - her eyes were locked on Theo's office feed. When she saw Hugo and his lawyer leave, she stopped playing with Nick's hair.

"I've got to go. See you tonight," she said without looking at him.

"Not even a kiss?" he teased.

But Jessica was already gone, racing back to her desk. Now or never, she thought. The phone rang. "Theodore Johnson" flashed on the screen.

"Bring me mint tea," he barked, then hung up.

Jessica smiled - cold, calculating. She took the pistol from her drawer, hid it under her blazer, and zipped up. Then she made his tea in the kitchenette.

With the cup in hand, she slowly walked toward his office. As she reached for the doorknob, a male voice shouted:

"Stop!" Jessica flinched and turned around. Hugo was standing there with two men.

"We need to go in -urgent," he said quickly.

Jessica froze. She just nodded.

"Why are you standing there like a statue? Move!" Hugo barked.

Rex stepped in: "Miss, please let us through."

Jessica barely moved, her feet like lead. She sat at her desk, hands trembling. She returned the pistol to the drawer. "Calm down, calm down," she kept repeating.

The phone rang again.

"Jessica, if Theo signed the financials, I'll collect them."

"Yes, yes, everything's ready. I'll bring them over right now, Alex." She grabbed the folder and headed to the eighth floor - the finance department.

When Jessica left, Nick started thinking. He suspected Jessica was using him. "I need to beat her to the punch. If she gets the wiretap recordings and sells them first, I'll get nothing. I should sell them to Theo myself - maybe even get promoted."

Seeing Jessica was gone from her desk, he hurried to Theo's office.

In the lobby, he unexpectedly ran into Claire Johnson - dressed in a sharp black suit and sunglasses.

"Mrs. Johnson, how are you?"

"Don't you have anything better to do?" she snapped.

"Actually, heading to see Mr. Johnson."

"Don't bother him. He's busy," Claire ordered.

"I'll come back later." Nick turned and walked off.

Claire waited until he left, then used Theo's private elevator.

Back in the monitoring room, Nick was still on edge. "That woman's a nightmare… Fine, I'll talk to Theo later. But what the hell was 'Bomba Mama' doing in his office?" He rewound the security footage.

"Damn it. Gotta hurry." He raced down to the parking lot.

Claire was driving out. Nick barely made it, cutting her off.

She honked. He didn't move. She rolled down her tinted window and snarled:

"Psycho, get out of the way!"

"I saw everything. You killed him."

Claire didn't flinch. "I'm a shooting champ," she said with a mad laugh. "I taught Theo how to pick a gun. He always listened to me. Now you do the same. Handle it - and you'll get everything."

"You've thought of everything. It's dangerous not to listen to you."

Nick, still breathing heavily, returned to the surveillance room and checked the cameras to see where Jessica was. She wasn't at her desk. She was on the eighth floor in the finance department, flirting with Alex. Nick quickly turned off the camera feed from Theo's office. He looked at his watch - the guys would be back from lunch in ten minutes. He had to act fast.

Only Nick, Theo, and recently Jessica knew about the hidden camera in Theo's office.

Twenty minutes later, Jessica returned to her desk. The office was quiet. She dialed Theo's number to see if he needed anything. No answer. "He couldn't have left so early... maybe he's just not picking up. I better check on him."

She entered Theo's office and looked at him. He was sitting in his chair as usual, his head slightly tilted back, his eyes motionless. Jessica took a step toward his desk. She froze. Her loud scream echoed throughout the building. In panic, employees rushed to the scene, shocked into silence. Then someone finally snapped out of it and said, "I'll call the police."

But it was already too late. Theodore Jones was dead.

Jessica stood in the doorway, motionless, still not fully understanding what had happened. When she came to, she looked around - some colleagues were crying, some drinking water, others speaking on the phone. That image of Theo flashed again in her mind - he sat still, his face calm, eyes open, blood trickling down his forehead, a gun in his hand.

"The gun!" She rushed to her desk, opened the drawer - it was gone. A cold chill ran through her. She turned pale. Someone in the office said, "The police will be here soon."

Those words brought her back to reality. "Colleagues, please step into the lobby. The police are on their way," she said in an iron voice. Everyone left the office.

"What do I do? What do I do?" the same phrase kept spinning in Jessica's mind.

She went back into Theo's office, covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Tears welled up in her eyes from fear. She looked at Theo's desk. The wiretap - she remembered. Gathering all her willpower, she approached the desk. Nick had installed the bug under it.

She crawled underneath, accidentally touched Theo's leg, nearly screamed, tears streamed down her face. She yanked the device out with such force that the desk shook.

Jessica barely made it - the sound of police sirens was already approaching. She left the office, on autopilot stuffed the wiretap into her bag. The zipper stuck. Jessica fumbled with it, but it wouldn't move. Tears flowed uncontrollably. Finally, it budged. She zipped the bag shut and hung it on her chair.

"Police! Everyone stay where you are!"