In the quiet of the modified luxurious car as it sped toward the Allen Group Headquarters, Davis Allen sat in the back seat, his expression grim, the faint hum of the engine a backdrop to his thoughts.
The tinted windows revealed only streaks of morning sunlight filtering through tall city buildings. Davis took his ti to monitor the trending news online. His jaw was set, his fists clenched, and his brow furrowed in confusion.
He couldn’t understand the motive behind Desmond releasing such false news of Elders Allen being hospitalized to the public. What exactly was he trying to achieve?
He had spoken with Elder Allen as soon as he got into the car that morning, and everything had seed fine.
Trusting the place, he lodged him after the discharge, he is quite sure Desmond had no idea of the Old man’s situation.
"Anyway, we play it by the ear." He concluded.
"Do you have the report from the Noveria branch?" Davis asked.
"Yes, sir," Ethan responded from the front seat.
"Give a copy," he muttered.
His gaze shifted to his personal car ahead which had turned to a decoy, trailed closely by an unfamiliar vehicle. Davis narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
He dialed out, connecting to his subordinate through the Bluetooth system. "Try losing that car. Let’s see what happens."
The subordinate responded promptly, increasing speed. The trailing car matched pace.
As Davis watched the situation unfold, mories of his accident began to resurface—sharp, unwelco. The violent spin, the blaring horn, the unbearable silence that followed.
He was even surprised, he could recollect the scene of the accident without falling into shock as usual, his lips curled up.
Through the Bluetooth, he gave another set of instructions. "Don’t cross the next junction. Instead, divert right at. the. very. last. second."
Just as he expected, the lead car accelerated toward the junction as the traffic light changed, but the car tailing them didn’t move an inch. At the last mont, the driver veered to the right. A truck zood through the intersection, its headlights glaring and horn blaring across the street.
Watching the scene made his breath hitch, his chest tightening. He didn’t want to imagine what the situation would have been if the driver had maintained going straight.
"I think we’ve confird what we needed to," Davis said. "Return ho slowly."
The subordinate was surprised but didn’t voice any questions. Silently, he turned the car around and headed back to the estate and the tailing car followed it imdiately.
Davis then connected with the shadow team. "Follow that car. Don’t lose sight of its occupants," he instructed.
A cold smirk touched his lips. "Desmond, Desmond... Do you think I’ll fall for the sa kind of plot again?" he murmured.
Wouldn’t that make him a fool? Davis shook his head. He admitted he’d been careless before—and that had allowed Desmond’s first sche to succeed but this ti he chose to beat him at his own ga.
With resolve glistening in his eyes, he glanced at the driver "Speed up. We need to get to the Allen Group imdiately," he instructed calmly.
Dialing Jessica, he asked, "Babe, are you driving yourself or using a driver?"
"Using a driver. I’ve got a few things to handle, so I can’t drive."
"It’s okay. Use a car without the Allen crest."
"I wasn’t planning on using any of the ones from the garage," she replied. "I doubt they haven’t been tampered with, especially since the maintenance team was here two days ago."
Davis’s brow furrowed, his gut twisting. "Maintenance? Two days ago?" he repeated.
"Yeah. Didn’t you know?" she asked, surprised.
"It slipped my mind... but now that you ntion it, sothing feels off," he murmured.
"Hubby, can you just focus on your eting? We’ll talk about this when you return," she said gently.
Davis nodded and ended the call. His eyes t Ethan’s in the rearview mirror. "Who approved maintenance this month?"
"It was already scheduled. Every maintenance session happens on that date, and the company covers the charges," Ethan explained, frowning in thought.
"Check the crew that ca in," Davis ordered. "The utility room stores tools and spare parts and you picked that device from there, I doubt if it’s just a coincidence." He took a deep breath before continuing "So, Investigate any irregularities."
Ethan nodded. He hadn’t thought about that angle, but Davis had a point.
~Allen Group headquarters...~
Desmond entered the fully packed conference room, filled with shareholders, board mbers, and several high-ranking executives.
The setting was deliberately grand as he intended the handover to be witnessed live. His invitation to Davis had been a decoy.
The eting was scheduled for 9:00 AM, but Davis had been told to arrive at 10:00. By the ti he entered, Desmond hoped, the board would be pressing for a formal handover.
Taking the head seat, Vera Louis sat beside him as vice president, while Aaron took a place on the other side as the COO. They began the eting.
Desmond’s tone was firm as he addressed the room. "I’m disappointed. Davis was notified of this eting, yet he is not here, even at this hour."
One shareholder responded, "We slated today for the CEO appointnt. This matter has dragged for far too long and shouldn’t exceed today. So, Let’s wait a little longer."
Another disagreed. "So of us rearranged our entire schedules just to be here. What about him?"
With the room divided, Desmond’s lips curled into a cold smile.
"Davis Allen, let see how you plan to turn the tables this ti, especially since you won’t even show up before the handover ends," he sighed mockingly. "In just a few minutes, the news will be out. You fell for it once, and no doubt, you’ll fall for it again," he mused.
Monts earlier, a fresh wave of news had hit the internet, stirring curiosity and doubt about what was happening at Allen Group:
’Crippled Allen heir hands over to uncle.’
’Allen Group confirms leadership change.’
’Davis Allen steps down due to health concerns.’
’Desmond Allen finally rewarded after years of injustice.’
’Elder Allen hospitalized; grandson cedes power.’
The headlines were going viral with so many lemon attached to spice it up.
In his car, Davis stared at the articles with a slow, cold smile. So Desmond really thought this would break him?
As if on cue, Jessica’s call ca through. He shook his head, smiling softly. "Of course nothing escapes you."
He answered. "Hey, babe."
"Davis Allen," she teased, "should we just get divorced now that you’re losing your position?"
A chuckle escaped his lips. "So I’m no longer good enough?"
"Hmph! Who ever said you were good enough?" she smirked.
The call ended with the subtle beeping of her laughter, bringing a rare warmth to his tense morning.
~Down stairs of the Allen Group~
A sleek, conspicuous car without the family crest pulled up in a graceful, fluid motion, followed closely by several other unmarked vehicles. The arrival drew imdiate attention.
With the rumor mill already in full swing—that the "crippled" Allen heir was handing over power—the arrival of the unbranded vehicle left staff and onlookers speculating wildly.
"Who had arrived?"
Was the heir dethroned so much that he wouldn’t be allowed to move with a branded car?
"Isn’t he just a cripple, why the high profile arrival?"
"I don’t think he is the one."
In the midst of the speculation, a bodyguard rushed forward, opening the rear door.
Heads turned. Phones discreetly lifted. Eyes strained to see.
Inside the vehicle, Davis took a mont. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself for this mont, his face unreadable. Then, slowly and confidently, he stepped out.
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