Ryan leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "Annoying."
A knock came at the door.
"Come in," he said.
The door swung open, and his assistant, a woman in her late twenties with a sharp bob and even sharper eyes, stepped inside.
"Mr. Caldwell," she said, holding a tablet. "Atlas declined the offer. Again."
Ryan smirked, though there was little humor in it. "Of course he did."
She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "Should we pursue further negotiations? Or let it rest for now?"
Ryan didn’t answer immediately.
He turned his gaze to the massive windows behind his desk, looking out at the city stretching beneath him. The Newton empire was vast. But there were still pieces missing.
ATLAS was one of those missing pieces.
"We’ll give it time," he finally said, fingers steepled together. "For now, we watch. We wait. Ethan Grey might think he’s untouchable right now, but everything — everyone — has a price."
His assistant nodded. "Understood."
Ryan tapped his fingers against the desk, his smirk deepening.
The top floor of Newton Corp. was eerily silent.
Ryan Caldwell sat at his desk, his long fingers drumming against the polished surface. He raised a cigar to his mouth and lit it, taking a puff. It helped him relax when he was angry.
A thin stream of cigar smoke curled through the air, but the man himself looked anything but relaxed.
"Give me the file," Ryan ordered without looking up.
His secretary, a composed woman in her tight uniform, stepped forward, handing him a thick manila folder.
He took it from her and flipped through the papers inside with practiced ease before pulling out a single contract.
The restaurant deal. One of the easiest acquisitions Newton Corp. had made recently. The owner had barely hesitated to sign, eager to secure funding and resources.
That was the thing with people new and eager to the industry, they wanted connections to grow and who in their right mind wouldn’t want connections with Newton?
Ethan Grey.
Ryan grabbed a pen and signed his name at the bottom in smooth, deliberate strokes.
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Another deal closed. Another business under Newton’s control. But the satisfaction was fleeting. This wasn’t the win he wanted.
Leaning back in his chair, he tossed the pen onto the desk and exhaled. "What’s the status on the food truck business?"
His secretary hesitated for a split second. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but Ryan caught it.
He turned his sharp gaze toward her. "Well?"
The woman’s posture remained straight, but there was something in her expression — a flicker of uncertainty.
"Our team reached out to the manager," she said carefully. "They met with him earlier today."
"And?"
"He refused."
Ryan’s grip on the armrest tightened. "Refused?"
The secretary nodded, glancing briefly at her notes. "He claimed it wasn’t his decision to make. The business doesn’t belong to him."
Ryan leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "Then who does it belong to?"
She hesitated again before answering. "Ethan Carter."
Silence settled over the office. Ryan’s jaw clenched as his fingers curled into a fist.
Ethan. Again.
His irritation boiled over as he muttered under his breath, "Damn you."
Of course, it had to be Ethan.
The man was becoming a persistent thorn in his side.
Every time Newton Corp. tried to expand, ATLAS was either already there or somehow standing in the way. The food truck business was no exception.
These vendors had been growing rapidly, popping up in key areas, making thousands in daily revenue. They had built a strong reputation in a short period, and Ryan had fully intended to acquire them — until now.
He forced himself to exhale slowly, loosening his fingers.
This wasn’t the end. If Ethan thought he could play in the big leagues without consequences, he was sorely mistaken.
Ryan’s eyes flickered toward the skyline outside his window, the city spread out beneath him like a kingdom. He took a puff of his cigar, letting a wisp of smoke escape his mouth and nostrils.
He wasn’t going to let someone like Ethan take what should rightfully be his.
"Keep an eye on them," he ordered. "And next time, don’t take no for an answer."
[Meanwhile…]
Ethan’s car hummed softly as he cruised down the city streets, neon lights flashing past in streaks of color.
But despite everything, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. A feeling that someone was trying to pull the rug out from under him.
The light ahead turned red, and he rolled to a stop. That’s when he sneezed.
"What the hell?" He sniffed, rubbing his nose.
A small chuckle escaped him.
His mother used to say sneezing out of nowhere meant someone was talking about you. Well, whoever it was, they could choke on it.
Just as he was about to dismiss the thought, his phone buzzed from the passenger seat. He glanced at the screen. Morgan.
He hadn’t forgot about the food truck business but he was no longer the one that handled it, he had a manager who paid their salaries and gave him his share of the money – the whole business made around $200,000-$250,000 since he had bought more trucks.
With a sigh, he tapped the call button and put it on speaker. "Yeah?"
"You’re not gonna like this," Morgan said without preamble.
Ethan frowned. "That’s a great way to start a conversation."
"Newton Corp. tried to buy out the food truck business."
Ethan’s fingers tightened around the wheel. "And?"
"I refused Boss. Told them it wasn’t my call."
A slow smirk spread across Ethan’s face. "Good."
"Yeah, but now they know it’s yours," Morgan continued. "They were pissed. And I mean really pissed."
Ethan let out a slow breath, glancing at the Newton Corp. building as he drove past it. "Let them be pissed."
"You sure that’s a good idea?" Morgan asked. "You know what kind of guy their boss is. If he wants something, he gets it."
Ethan’s smirk didn’t fade. "Not this time."
Silence hung between them for a moment before Morgan sighed. "Alright, Boss. Just… keep your guard up."
Ethan nodded to himself as he hung up the call.
Ryan Caldwell could throw all the tantrums he wanted.
None of his investments were going to join Newton.
Not now.
Not ever.