Chapter 189: Chapter 189: An Unexpected Guest
The main banquet course arrived in a low hum of clinking silver and hushed chatter, but the mood at the tables surrounding the center of the hall remained noticeably subdued. Word of Duke Timber and Director Kaelen’s abrupt, pale-faced retreat from the balcony had already rippled through the immediate seating tiers, turning Table Nine into an island of quiet scrutiny.
Deep in the shadows of the elevated VIP lounge, Troy Husks cornered Timber and Kaelen near a velvet-draped pillar. The Minister of Commerce rubbed his temples, a sharp line of irritation tightening his jaw as he looked down at the main floor.
"What the hell were you two thinking, approaching him like that?" Husks hissed, keeping his voice beneath the swell of the string quartet. "On the floor? Tonight? It wasn’t the time to force a public display."
Timber straightened his silk tie, though his fingers lacked their usual steady precision. He looked back toward the balcony doors, his chest rising with a heavy breath. "We didn’t have much of a choice, Troy. We have to get Rivers in line before he gets involved."
Husks froze, his hand dropping from his temple. His eyes searched Timber’s face, looking for any sign of exaggeration. "Him? You mean—"
Timber nodded grimly, the theatrical warmth completely gone from his posture. "He was at my office the day before yesterday. He explicitly stated he would take care of Rivers himself if the ministry failed to freeze the assets."
Husks’s jaw tightened, a cold weight settling in his stomach. He looked back toward the center table, suddenly realizing the framework of this evening was built on shifting sand. The person Timber was referring to wasn’t just another corporate player looking for market share; it was a ghost with deep roots.
"But that doesn’t mean you can just go around threatening Jake. Are you forgetting that he is a Rivers. He might be a thorn at the moment but unless you know how to take the Steel Refinery from their family then it’s best you don’t aggressively target him without a full proof plan."
Timber turned his head slightly, his gaze shifting to a young man standing quietly just behind them. The young man looked to be the exact same age as Jake, dressed in a flawless, dark tailored suit, but his eyes were fixed entirely on the rim of his glass, watching the red wine catch the light.
"Alex," Timber muttered, his tone shifting into an impatient demand. "Is there something more concrete we can use? Something immediate to bypass the leverage he claims to have?"
Alex Livingston hesitated. He didn’t look up immediately. Instead, his thumb traced the delicate edge of the crystal stem. Seeing the raw, unpolished desperation on the faces of these veteran politicians sent a sudden chill through his chest. Back in his university days, he had imagined corporate warfare to be a game of clean, mathematical strategy. But looking at Timber’s pale skin and Husks’s rigid shoulders, he realized these men weren’t looking for a strategic compromise anymore—they were looking for total elimination.
"There isn’t anything that can be used immediately," Alex said, his voice quiet, carrying a flat indifference that masked his racing thoughts. "Jake doesn’t leave loose threads. If you move without a bulletproof regulatory variance, he’ll anticipate the friction and counter it before the papers are even filed."
Before Timber could voice his frustration, a senior ministry aide hurried up to Husks, leaning in to whisper urgently into the Minister’s ear.
Husks’s eyes widened, his gaze instantly snapping toward the heavy oak doors of the main foyer. "He’s actually here?"
The aide nodded sharply, stepping back into the shadows.
Husks turned to Timber and Kaelen, his voice dropping into a harsh, commanding whisper that left no room for argument. "Do not do anything rash while I am gone. Jake Rivers is not a lone wolf. If you poke at the five massive conglomerates backing Aurelia Capitals without a unified cabinet vote, it’s going to be the two of you getting prosecuted to protect the state’s image, not him. Excuse me."
Husks walked rapidly down the carpeted stairs, his expression instantly smoothing into a practiced, welcoming mask as he reached the secure entrance. Near the foyer, a man surrounded by a massive entourage of plainclothes security and state advisors stood waiting, casually reviewing a digital brief held by an assistant.
"His Excellency," Husks said quickly, bowing his head with practiced obedience as he stepped into the secure perimeter. "We had no idea you were attending tonight. If you had informed my office, I would have ensured a proper state reception at the pavilion steps."
The man looked up, his eyes sharp but warm as he clapped Husks on the shoulder. "No need for the formalities, Troy. I only just found out my target was attending this dinner, so I adjusted my evening itinerary and rushed over."
Husks’s mind raced as he maintained his polite smile. His target? A cold bead of sweat formed at his hairline. He wondered what kind of gravity that person possessed to force the man standing in front of him to personally crash a Ministry of Commerce dinner. "Should I announce your arrival, sir?"
"Please," the man agreed with a slight nod, stepping into the light of the main hall.
Husks hurried up to the elevated dais, gesturing sharply to the sound technicians in the upper booth. The string quartet faded to a halt. Husks tapped the microphone, his voice booming with forced enthusiasm across the eighty tables.
"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests," Husks announced, his voice filling every corner of the Grand Pavilion. "We are deeply honored by a sudden and historic addition to our evening. Please join me in welcoming the President of the Republic of Veyra, Luis Spencer!"
The room dropped into a momentary, stunned silence before a wave of synchronized applause swept through the hall. CEOs, parliamentary leaders, representatives, and institutional directors rose from their seats in unison, their eyes tracking the moving security detail.
President Luis Spencer walked onto the stage, waving off the rigid formality with an easy, charismatic smile. He took the microphone smoothly, his posture relaxed. "Thank you, everyone. Please, sit down, enjoy your dinner. Do not mind me at all—go about your business, buy your tenders, and make your deals. I’m simply here to enjoy the atmosphere."
While delivering his brief words, Spencer’s eyes scanned the crowd, bypassing the VIP tables entirely until they locked directly onto Table Nine.
The moment he stepped off the stage, Spencer didn’t head toward the VIP lounge or the legacy family seating. Escorted by his security detail, he marched straight down the center aisle, locking his trajectory onto Aurelia Capitals.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Spencer said as he reached Table Nine.
Adrian, Marcus, Noah, and Leon stood up instantly, giving respectful nods.
"Mr. President," Adrian said, his tone perfectly balanced, showing the steady composure of a seasoned financier.
"Sit, sit, please," Spencer laughed, gesturing for them to take their seats. He looked across the five young men, his eyes lingering on each of them with an intense, evaluating scrutiny. "The legendary board of Aurelia Capitals. I’ve been reading the reports. What you boys are doing is nothing short of impressive."
Spencer then turned his eyes fully onto Jake, a look of genuine appreciation on his face. "And you must be Jake Rivers. The man everyone in the capital can’t stop talking about."
"Mr. President," Jake replied levelly, standing up to shake the leader’s hand with a firm, unhurried grip before sitting back down.
Sensing the shifting dynamic immediately, Marcus and Noah smoothly shifted to the adjacent empty chairs at the table, creating a clear, open space right next to Jake. Spencer didn’t hesitate, taking the seat naturally as his lead security detail took up positions just behind his chair, their eyes scanning the surrounding tables.
For the next forty minutes, the atmosphere in the Grand Pavilion was electric with pure disbelief. Guests forgot about their food, their eyes glued to Table Nine.
Up in the VIP area, Troy Husks, Duke Timber, and Kaelen stood frozen against the railing, their faces completely blank with shock.
"How does Rivers know the President?" Kaelen whispered, his voice cracking slightly under his breath. "Since when does he have a direct line to the executive office?"
Timber turned a furious, reddening face toward Alex Livingston. "You said you knew his background! You said he was completely self-made without institutional backing. Why wasn’t this in the file?"
Alex stared down at the table, his own face remarkably pale as he watched Jake casually speaking with the leader of the Republic. His mind spun, flashing back to their college apartment, to the late nights where Jake scraped change together for basic groceries while Alex complained about his family fortune.
’Where did this kind of motion come from?’ Alex thought, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. ’He was a middle-class student. And he didn’t have these connections. He’s hiding something.’ "I... I didn’t know," Alex muttered aloud, his voice hollow. "He didn’t have these ties in university."
---
Comments