Tyrant. Scrapper. Part 5. Damantha Makarova

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      ISBN 978-5-0064-5801-7 (т. 5)

      ISBN 978-5-0062-7070-1

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      PART V. Tyrant

      Chapter 1. CEO

      The Company.

      A worldwide conglomerate that grew into a pure force of administration that crept into every single niche of life of Terrans. United in a single planetary human race, people have long forgotten their squabbles about their territorial and otherwise based wars and disagreements. The Company united them all into a single unit of a gigantic conglomerate-governed people.

      At first, of course, there were still government officials, but as their debts to the Company grew – so did the Company’s influence in the everyday life.

      What it meant over the course of time was that the rich people grew even richer and the poor ones fell deeper into debt. The only way to try and repay any debts – for healthcare, education and otherwise – was to start working for the Company in one way or another.

      He was fortunate enough to have been born into one of the families that were in the top administration. To him it was rather a bother – as he was raised from the early age to become one of the CEO’s that were at the helm, making sure the Company continued working properly and making profits all over Terra and the Solar System.

      At 35 years of age he was the youngest CEO ever appointed, when his father stepped back from his position, allowing his son to take over.

      Now, almost 40 years later, Elijah Winchester was as powerful as the CEO’s that sat longer on the board. And even though every single higher-up in the Company always used genetic rejuvenation, he was one of those fortunate enough to have the best self-care possible in his position.

      He never looked even remotely older than 30.

      Refined, well-educated and intelligent, this man was sought by many influential families to become an ally through marriage. But he preferred to be a bachelor, basking in the free life of a single man, who could easily enjoy his vacations, living without a single scandal. And if there ever was any hint of one – his men took care of it, eradicating the threat swiftly.

      The man stepped up to the mirror, combed his thick, dark brown hair and took a thorough look at his expensive suit. The old, classic style of business attire was still considered to be the best choice for any meeting or work day.

      To Elijah it meant something greater.

      He loved the feel of power that surrounded him whenever he wore the suits. And the sense of safety that came with them was too – a welcome thought. The fabric wasn’t usual by any means – woven into it were the thin bullet-proof threads that could protect him from most shots and knives.

      «Meeting in ten minutes, boss.» one of his bodyguards said, checking the time.

      «I know, John.» lazily replied Elijah. «Any news on my little… stalker?»

      «No. Terrence hadn’t checked in yet. He’s taking his time.»

      «I’m sure he’s just organising everything to the best of his ability.» Elijah chuckled.

      He didn’t mind the stalling – he knew that Terrence will do everything the way he’s supposed to. It was his job after all – to seek out every threat Elijah had and take care of it all. By whatever means possible.

      Elijah glanced at John – the big, muscular man towered over him, but always kept cool and collected. Trustworthy and strong, he was a perfect bodyguard, who stayed by his side all the time – wherever Elijah went. His most interesting trait wasn’t in his muscles or height, it was in the rare eye implants that allowed him to see much more than usual people did.

      The eyes, shimmering with silver and bloody red circles for irises, always scanned the surroundings, seeing through clothes to find any hint of weapon being concealed. Even more – those very eyes recorded the day, each evening submitted to a special server that was accessible only with a special code.

      «How do I look?» Elijah brushed his sleeves and checked his cufflinks.

      «Dashing, as always.» John replied calmly.

      Elijah knew this wasn’t a genuine answer – the man was working for him, after all, but still, hearing someone else note his sense of style always made him feel better.

      «While I’ll be busy with these old bags of bones, organise a passage to Essara.» Elijah headed out.

      «How long will we be gone?» John immediately took a miniature information tablet, to note all the information.

      «A month. I need a vacation. We leave tonight. Tomorrow morning at the latest. We’ll see how this meeting goes.»

      «Done.» John looked up at his employer’s back. «Company for the flight?»

      «Not this time. I grew bored from all the whores money can buy.» Elijah scowled, but so slightly that no one even noticed.

      Or, perhaps, his co-workers simply didn’t look up, allowing him to walk past.

      Elijah tried not to look at the people he loathed. All he could think about is leaving this place and going elsewhere. It’s been too long since he took a proper vacation – a luxury he could have at any time he wanted. However, the latest projects he has been involved in took up so much of his time that he forgot all about any rest at all.

      He hated boredom – and after finishing up the most relevant projects he found himself bored. And even though he was summoned to attend a typical meeting of the higher-ups in his region, he knew – he won’t hear anything new. It will be all the same again – profit quota, numbers and schedules that he’s heard and seen time and time again.

      Sometimes he wished he could forget all about this company life and live like one of his private enforcers. Those, at least, saw some semblance of excitement that could soothe any deep-driven rage.

      And that Elijah had tonnes.

      On first glance he was a collected and calm man, but deep inside there was a void that he couldn’t fill by any means – not the whores or luxurious dinners, not the new addition to his vast collection of art, not a new ancient weapon bought from the less legitimate procurers.

      Even his everyday training that he spent in the private ring weren’t as exhilarating as they used to. It kept his mind under control, but there wasn’t any real danger he could face in the controlled square with his opponents – however skilful they were.

      But he knew he wouldn’t be able to enter a real match – his family could easily disown him for falling so low in terms of self-respect.

      Walking into the massive conference room, he noted all the people gathered there – every man and woman of high status that always looked like they’ve been chewing lemons every single moment of their pitiful lives – and greeted them СКАЧАТЬ