Chapter 27: Game of Kings
Jayden had never been afraid of the dark.
But this wasn't the kind of darkness you could light up with a switch.
This was the kind that crept in slowly—through boardrooms, phone calls, and forced smiles. The kind of darkness that didn't need guns because it had power. Quiet power.
He stood in front of the window at Lexington Tower, watching the city lights flicker across the skyline like they were breathing. Nairobi was alive, bustling, moving like nothing was wrong.
But Jayden knew better.
The South Syndicate was here. Watching.
Waiting.
---
"Another withdrawal just came through," Faith said as she walked into the room, tablet in hand.
Jayden didn't turn around. "How much?"
"Ten million. Pulled from a humanitarian fund you set up two months ago in Uganda. No trace of the account holder."
Jayden sighed. "So, they're bleeding us now. Bit by bit."
"They want you reactive," Faith said. "Scared. Always responding."
He turned to look at her.
"I'm not scared. I'm angry."
---
Down in the estate garage, Leo examined the remains of the car bomb found earlier in the week.
"No real fingerprint," he told Sasha, who leaned over beside him. "Just that card."
The black-and-white chessboard piece. Blank, but unmistakable.
"It's psychological," Leo said. "They want him looking over his shoulder. Want us second-guessing every handshake."
"Is it working?" Sasha asked.
Leo stood up. "On most men? Yeah. But Jayden?" He paused. "He's not like most men."
---
Jayden called for a private meeting with the council that evening—no press, no tech, no digital records.
Just people.
Just voices.
They met in the restored chamber beneath Lexington Tower—the one his father once sealed off to silence the past.
Jayden stood at the head of the round table.
"We've spent weeks defending what we've built," he began. "We've lost money. Data. Reputation. But we haven't lost why we started this."
He let the silence sit.
"I'm not just trying to lead a company. I'm trying to prove that someone from the ground can rise without crushing everyone beneath him. That honesty can survive in a dirty world."
He looked up.
"But the game has changed."
---
Brian, quiet until now, leaned forward. "You think the Syndicate is planning a takeover?"
"They're not after Lexington," Jayden replied. "They're after me. What I represent. The idea that a billionaire's child doesn't have to play by their rules."
Faith tapped the table. "So, what's the move?"
Jayden looked at each of them.
"We go off-board."
---
He explained it calmly.
No systems. No networks.
The Syndicate was expecting retaliation through digital channels, through money, through influence.
But Jayden had something else.
People.
Real people. On the ground. Staff, students, market vendors, security guards. People he'd helped without anyone knowing.
---
He met with some of them over the next few days.
Privately.
He didn't ask them to spy.
He didn't ask them to lie.
He asked them to watch.
Because power can't hide forever.
It always leaves a trail.
---
One trail led to an old estate in Karen.
Officially, it was listed under an old textile company.
Unofficially?
It was where a man named Cormac Veldt had just flown in from Cape Town.
One of the founding members of the South Syndicate.
The one they called "The Bishop."
Because he never moved first.
But when he did?
He never missed.
---
Jayden drove himself there.
No Maybach.
No convoy.
Just a basic car, a baseball cap, and nerves of steel.
When the guards stopped him at the gate, he asked for Cormac by name.
The man came out ten minutes later. Tall, grey suit, eyes like polished knives.
"You must be Lexington," he said, almost amused. "You've caused quite the... inconvenience."
Jayden didn't flinch. "Then let's be inconvenient together."
---
They sat across from each other in the garden, no introductions, no small talk.
Cormac poured wine. Jayden didn't touch his glass.
"You've made enemies," Cormac said. "Powerful ones."
"I've made choices," Jayden replied.
"Your father played our game better. He knew when to look the other way."
Jayden's voice was calm. "He also died running from the consequences."
Cormac smiled slightly. "You're not afraid to die?"
"I'm afraid of becoming the reason someone else loses everything."
That made the old man pause.
"You're not like the others," he said. "And that makes you dangerous."
Jayden leaned forward.
"I don't want your war. I don't want your money. But if you come after my people again—my council, my friends, or the thousands of lives depending on this legacy—I won't come after you digitally."
"I'll come after you personally."
---
Silence.
A tense, deliberate silence.
Then Cormac stood.
"No one talks to me like that," he said quietly.
"Maybe that's the problem," Jayden said, standing too.
Cormac's face changed.
Something in his eyes—not fear. Not anger.
Respect.
"Go home, boy," he said. "You've made your move."
---
Jayden left without looking back.
He didn't know if he'd won anything.
But for the first time, the Syndicate knew his name wasn't a shield.
It was a sword.
---
Back at Lexington Tower, he walked into his office just before midnight.
Faith was waiting, scrolling headlines.
"You're trending," she said, half-smiling.
He sat down heavily. "Why?"
"Word got out about your visit to Karen. People are calling it 'The Boy Who Faced the Bishop.'"
Jayden didn't smile.
"Let them talk. I'm not done moving."
---
End of Chapter Twenty-Seven