Chapter 24 - The Businessman
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The boardroom was located on the top floor of a gleaming glass skyscraper in downtown Chicago.
Victor sat at the head of the long mahogany table.
Around him sat twelve men in expensive suits.
They were bankers, real estate developers, and corporate lawyers.
None of them carried weapons.
None of them spoke in whispers.
This was the new empire of Victor Blackwood.
“The acquisition of the Southside shipping ports is complete,” the lead lawyer announced, sliding a thick folder across the table.
“Legally?” Victor asked, his voice sharp and commanding.
The lawyer nodded quickly.
“Absolutely legally, Mr. Blackwood. Every contract is ironclad. The tax forms have been filed. You are now the largest independent logistics operator in the Midwest.”
Victor leaned back, tenting his fingers.
He looked out the massive window at the city below.
A city he used to rule with fear and violence.
Now, he ruled it with ink and paper.
It was a much cleaner way to conquer the world.
“What about the community fund?” Victor asked, turning to his financial director.
“We have allocated twenty percent of the projected profits directly to Lily’s foundation, just as you requested,” the director confirmed.
“Make it thirty,” Victor ordered.
The director blinked in surprise.
“Sir, that will significantly impact our quarter-end margins.”
Victor’s gaze turned cold, pinning the man to his chair.
“I did not ask for a financial analysis. I gave an order.”
“Yes, Mr. Blackwood. Thirty percent.”
Marcus stood quietly in the corner of the room, arms crossed, observing the entire exchange.
When the meeting concluded and the suits quickly filed out of the room, Marcus walked over.
“You are getting good at this,” Marcus noted dryly.
“At what?” Victor asked, reviewing the final contracts.
“Being a legitimate tyrant.”
Victor laughed softly, a sound that still felt slightly unfamiliar in a corporate setting.
“A legitimate businessman, Marcus. There is a difference.”
“Not much of one,” Marcus smiled.
Victor stood up, looking at his signature on the bottom line of the contract.
He had spent his youth running from the police, fighting for territory in the gutters.
Now, he was reshaping the economy of the entire city.
“It feels better this way,” Victor admitted quietly.
“No blood on the money?”
“No blood,” Victor confirmed. “Just a legacy I can actually be proud to leave to my son.”
He closed the folder, picked up his coat, and walked toward the elevator.
It was time to go home.
Home to his wife.
May you like
Home to his son.
Home to his peace.
