The Art of Wealth: I Became a Billionaire-Chapter 40: Checkmate

The room was heavy with silence. Not just quiet, but the kind of silence that held weight, tension, and years of unspoken history. Four men sat across from each other at a long table. Two on each side. Raymond and Alex were on one end. George Agnew and Philip on the other.

The air was stiff. Nobody smiled.

Finally, George broke the silence

"You know," he said calmly, "the last time we sat like this, face to face, was many years ago. I never thought we’d sit together again... and certainly not like this."

Raymond didn’t respond nor blink. He just sat still, the corner of his eye twitching slightly. But George wasn’t done.

"So, what is it, Raymond?" he asked, feigning curiosity. "Why have you dragged us into this unpleasant little meeting? And you even brought your... mentee."

He turned his gaze toward Alex, who sat close to Raymond with his head down. "How sweet."

"Unpleasant indeed," Raymond said flatly. "But I wasn’t expecting you to bring a dishonorable man with you."

His eyes flicked briefly toward Philip. "Can’t even look me in the eye."

Philip smirked, but George leaned forward, interested.

"Dishonorable, you say?" George said slowly. "Well... I call that moral standard."

He paused. "Obeying the wishes of your father. Does that sound so dishonorable to you?"

Raymond narrowed his eyes. Something about George’s words didn’t sit right. And just then, beside him, Alex slowly lifted his head, his eyes moving between the two men, confused.

George smiled slyly and leaned back.

"Yes, you heard me right," he said, locking eyes with Raymond. "Philip... is my son."

The room went cold.

Raymond froze for half a second, then blinked once. He let out a slow, surprised exhale.

"Well... that’s news to me," he said, forcing a calm voice. "Didn’t see that one coming. And yet... he’s nothing like you."

He tilted his head slightly. "Everything you’re not."

George chuckled bitterly. "Oh really? And how can that be? He’s my son. Everything he knows, I taught him. So, as the old saying goes,... the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree."

Raymond shook his head. "Well, this apple must’ve rolled down a hill and crossed the ocean. Because if you had even half his intelligence or half his heart... you wouldn’t be sitting here as a criminal. A man who robs people of their life savings like it means nothing."

George’s eyes darkened, and his smile faded.

"Cut to the chase, Carter. Why have you come here?"

Raymond smiled faintly. A knowing, dangerous smile.

"I hit a nerve, didn’t I? The truth stings."

He leaned forward now, with a firmer voice.

"We’re here because of Elliot."

A flicker of something crossed George’s face.

"Elliot?" he said, pretending to be confused. "You’re serious? You dragged us here to talk about that boy?"

Raymond kept his eyes locked on George. "We need him."

George leaned back and laughed... A full, arrogant laugh. "You need my man to go with you? You must be joking."

Raymond’s voice sharpened. "Your man? You’re holding him hostage, George. You’re torturing him."

George stopped laughing. He grinned instead. "You really don’t cease to amaze me. So... you’ve been keeping tabs and spying on me?"

"Not exactly," Raymond replied calmly. "Let’s just say the walls... have ears."

George laughed again, but shorter this time. "Oh, they really do."

He wiped an invisible speck off his coat. Then his tone shifted and became more calm and cold. "You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?"

Raymond’s voice was quiet but firm. "Dead serious."

George stared at him. "It’s funny. I actually missed your face, Raymond. It’s been a while since someone had the guts to talk to me like this. I must admit."

Raymond shrugged. "Trust me, George, I don’t enjoy seeing your face either. But here we are."

George’s expression hardened. "You know I won’t let him go and you’ve got no right meddling in this. He’s none of your business."

Raymond didn’t flinch. "He became my business the moment you started hurting him for helping one of mine."

"You coming in here," George sneered, "asking for my man. Like this is some kind of favor. You know very well that’s not happening... unless, of course, there’s something you’re planning to use as leverage."

Raymond smiled faintly. "There is of course."

He paused, stood up slowly, and walked around the table. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the room. He stopped beside Philip and placed a hand on the back of his chair, not touching him, but close enough to feel the pressure.

"You see, Philip, your so-called son, broke several high-level contracts from our end. Illegally. Knowingly."

Philip flinched. Just a little.

"My lawyers tell me... that kind of offense? It could land him 40 years in prison. Maybe 50. Depending on the court. And if the judge isn’t in a good mood? Maybe even life."

The room dropped into complete silence.

No one said a word.

Raymond looked at George, now deadly serious.

"So here’s the deal. You give me Elliot. Safe and unharmed. Or I hand this evidence to the authorities. And we all watch as your son,

spends the rest of his life behind bars."

George sat frozen. His confidence... slipping.

"You wouldn’t," he said, almost a whisper.

Raymond leaned in. "Try me."

Raymond leaned forward slightly, voice cold but steady.

"But all of that can be avoided," he said. "All you need to do is hand Elliot over."

Silence.

Not a word. The air in the room grew heavier. You could almost hear everyone breathing. Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

George finally leaned back and let out a slow, almost sarcastic laugh. Then he sat forward again, with his eyes locked on Raymond’s.

"You know the one thing you clearly don’t understand, Raymond?" George began with a calm voice. "I train my people. I train them for every kind of situation, pressure, betrayal, isolation, torture... You name it. Unlike you... who do not prepare your team at all."

Raymond blinked slowly but didn’t respond. George kept talking.

"So whatever you think you’ve planned, it won’t work. It never will. Elliot’s not going anywhere. I don’t care what you’ve heard, or what some little lawyer whispered in your ear. File all the lawsuits you want. Build your fantasy case in court. In the end, it won’t matter. Nothing... absolutely nothing will happen to me."

Raymond’s fingers tapped once on the table before he replied.

"So you’re willing to sell your own son short?" he asked, his tone now sharper. "Throw him under the bus? Just to keep a hold on someone you don’t even need any more?"

George smirked while narrowing his eyes.

"You must think I’m a fool." He shook his head. "It’s not about needing Elliot. It’s about you not getting him. I won’t let that happen. Not while I’m still breathing. So if that’s why you came here, then congratulations, Raymond. You wasted your time."

Raymond’s lips curled into a bitter smile.

"You think so?"

"I know so," George replied instantly.

George slowly stood up from his chair. He adjusted his suit, gave Raymond a long stare, and pointed lazily at the door.

"So, is that all?" he said. "Because if that’s it, I’d suggest you take that exit. I’ve got better things to do than sit here listening to empty threats."

Raymond stood up too, giving George one last look.

"We were just about to leave," he said flatly. "I also have better things to do."

Alex quietly followed Raymond as they moved toward the door. Just as Raymond’s hand touched the handle, George called out loudly behind him.

"And Raymond!"

Raymond paused and didn’t turn around.

"Don’t forget to always watch your back," George said with a mocking grin.

Raymond glanced over his shoulder and said calmly,

"I advise you to do the same."

He motioned to Alex, and the two of them stepped out.

For a few seconds, the room remained still. George was about to sit back down when the door burst open suddenly.

One of his men rushed in, panting, panic written all over his face.

"Boss! Boss!" the man shouted.

George stood up immediately. "What is it?"

"It’s Elliot, he’s gone. He escaped!"

George’s face turned pale for the first time in years. His eyes darted to the large window behind him. He rushed toward it and threw the curtains apart.

Down on the road, Raymond’s black SUV was already turning and speeding away.

SCREECH!!