Chapter 4: The Price of Absolute Power
Every phone on the multi-tiered deck was now pointed directly at the confrontation. The hundreds of influencers who had spent the night hunting for drama had just found the ultimate viral event—and it was the public execution of their billionaire savior’s career.
“Ethan, please,” Julian begged, dropping his microphone and stepping forward, his hands clasped together in an open gesture of humiliation. “I will restore your stock options. I’ll give you a twenty-percent stake in the parent company. I’ll put your name on the billboard in Times Square tomorrow morning! Just stop the loop!”
The digital screens flashed a final, violent crimson:
HARDWARE MELTDOWN IMMINENT: 60 SECONDS REMAINING.
Ethan looked down at his watch, then up at the magnificent, glittering view of the city below. “I don't care about your billboards, Julian. And I don't care about your money. I want you to say the words into the live feed running on your own network right now.”
Julian swallowed hard, his skin turning a sickly shade of grey as he looked at the millions of digital viewers currently tuned into the mansion's official party stream. He dropped to his knees on the marble floor, completely broken in front of his entire kingdom.
“The core compression algorithm... the entire foundation of Apex Media... was entirely designed and coded by Ethan Wright,” Julian sobbed into the cameras, his voice shaking with absolute defeat. “I am a fraud. I stole his work.”
Ethan didn't say a word. He casually reached over his laptop, pressed a single blue key on his terminal, and zipped his backpack shut.
Click.
May you like
Instantly, the violent red warning screens turned a soothing, deep emerald green. The cooling pumps roared back to life, the metallic screech vanished from the speakers, and the pink and purple neon strobes resumed their mindless, rhythmic dance over the infinity pool. The system was completely stable.
Ethan slung the weathered leather strap over his right shoulder, turned his back on the billionaire who was still kneeling on the floor, and began walking toward the grand exit. The crowd of elites parted for him like the Red Sea, their phones lowered in absolute awe as the invisible engineer in the faded t-shirt vanished into the dark California night, leaving the king of vanity completely stripped of his crown.
