You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 24

First stood at the edge of his desk, his posture relaxed but his sharp eyes unwavering, fixed on the detailed map pinned to the wall. Red marks and crosses littered the surface, tracking the progress of his plans, each symbol a silent testament to the carefully laid strategies he had orchestrated. The phone in his hand was like an extension of his mind, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he spoke, the tone of his voice betraying nothing but control.

"Are you certain?" he asked, his voice steady and composed, the words flowing smoothly, as if every sentence had already been rehearsed.

The response on the other end came with a cool, smug assurance. "They took the bait again. Soon, this too will crumble."

First's lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it, just the cold satisfaction of a man who knew he was playing a game that few could even begin to comprehend. His voice dropped lower, a murmur meant only for the other side of the line. "Good. Keep me updated."

Before he could speak again, the door crashed open, the sound of it slamming against the wall reverberating through the room. The air shifted as his father, followed by two hulking bodyguards, stormed in. The room felt smaller under the weight of his presence. The man was a mountain of fury, towering in both stature and power, and in his wake, a suffocating aura of authority flooded the room.

First didn't flinch. His gaze remained fixed, and he cut the call effortlessly, slipping his phone into his pocket as he turned to face the storm that had just entered. His father's furious eyes met his, and for a brief moment, it was as if the world itself held its breath.

"What brings you here, Father?" First asked, his voice unfazed, even a touch indifferent, as if he had been expecting this confrontation for some time.

His father didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze narrowed, studying his son as if trying to decipher a puzzle that had eluded him for years. "Don't play games with me, First," he growled, his voice low and venomous, his tone sharp and accusatory. "What the hell have you been up to?"

First raised an eyebrow, his expression a picture of calm disdain. "I'm not sure what you mean," he replied evenly, his voice as smooth and controlled as ever. There was no trace of guilt in his eyes, no hint of uncertainty. He was a master at hiding everything beneath the surface.

His father didn't buy it. His fists clenched at his sides, his frustration mounting. He took a step closer, his presence now imposing and suffocating, as though he were trying to intimidate his son into submission. "Don't give me that," he spat. "The way you're so calm, so composed-there's something beneath it. I can see it in your eyes."

First's lips quirked into a faint, almost mocking smile. His voice remained silky, almost too smooth. "You're perceptive, I'll give you that."

The insult didn't go unnoticed. His father's face twisted with fury. "I raised you myself, molded you into what you are," he snarled, the words biting with anger. "I know what that calm means. You're plotting something."

First chuckled, a soft, cold sound that seemed to echo in the room, chilling the air between them. His eyes glinted with something sharp, a dangerous edge lurking beneath the surface. "You did raise me," he said slowly, his voice almost reverent in its venom. "You taught me to be a beast, Father. And when a beast is wounded, it doesn't roll over. It attacks."

His father's face darkened, his anger rising like a storm about to break. "Careful, boy," he warned, his voice menacing. "Your arrogance will ruin everything."

First tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering as he took a step forward. He was now so close to his father that their breaths mingled in the still air, their faces inches apart. "Arrogance?" he asked softly, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, Father. I've simply learned to prioritize what truly matters. You think I'm ruining everything? Maybe I am, but only the things that deserve to be destroyed."