Chapter 28: [Financial Return: $28,800,000]

The next morning, Damon sat in the back office of Velour with one leg crossed over the other, a mug of black coffee resting in his hand.

He had changed into a dark suit, the tailored fit emphasizing his broad shoulders and relaxed posture.

Across from him, Eleanor sat at her desk, her fingers moving across the laptop keyboard as she reviewed the morning’s inventory statements.

"Velour isn’t enough," he said flatly.

She stopped typing, her fingers hovering over the keys. She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and fatigue. "What do you mean? The inventory unblocked by Vance cleared four hours ago. Our gross margins for the week are already up forty percent. If we scale the boutique’s floor space next month-"

"I’m not talking about expanding a clothing boutique," He interrupted, setting his mug down on the glass coffee table with a clink. "I’m talking about the Sterling Apparel Group."

She stared at him, her lips parting slightly. "The... the entire group? Damon, that’s a thirty-million-dollar regional enterprise. It isn’t just a handful of distribution releases and a few blocked supplier checks."

She stood up, her arms crossed over her blazer. "Julian had three major equity partners on the board. He had two private logistics firms, a legal firm on retainer in the central district, and five commercial real estate holdings registered under corporate holding accounts. You killed Julian, but his board members are still alive. His lawyers are already trying to freeze his primary accounts until the court steps in."

He didn’t flinch.

"Julian is dead, the board members are terrified because their chairman vanished overnight. The lawyers are scrambling because nobody is giving them orders. The entire structure is sitting in the open, waiting for someone to put their hand on the wheel."

"It’s not that simple," She insisted, stopping at the edge of her desk. "I’m his ex-wife. We’ve been legally divorced for three years. I have no direct voting power on the Sterling board. If I walk into the corporate headquarters on 8th Street demanding control, his vice chairman will have security escort me out of the building."

"Then don’t ask for permission," He said, leaning forward. "Use what you already have."

He raised a finger. "First, Velour is a legitimate business entity with clean credit. Second, you hold the original divorce settlement records proving Julian illegally funneled communal assets into his offshore holding accounts. Third, you have Vance."

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the back office door.

The door edged open, and Vance slid into the room like a dazed shadow. The regional manager of Apex Logistics looked like he hadn’t slept in for forty-eight hours. His suit was crumpled, his necktie hung loose, and his eyes darted nervously to Damon before fixing entirely on the floorboards.

"Sit down, Vance," Damon ordered.

Vance practically collapsed into the wooden chair beside the desk, clutching a leather binder to his chest like a shield. "I... I pulled everything I could from the internal server before the IT directors locked down the main executive portal."

Damon looked at Eleanor. "Show her."

Vance hurriedly unclasped the binder, spreading several printed spreadsheets across Eleanor’s desk. His hands trembled so violently the papers rattled against the wood.

"Julian... Mr. Sterling owned forty-two percent of the voting shares directly," Vance stammered, pointing at the top ledger. "His death left those shares tied up in probate and corporate litigation. Until the ownership dispute is resolved, nobody can exercise his voting power."

Vance swallowed hard.

"The second-largest shareholder is Old Man Miller. He holds eighteen percent, but he’s eighty years old and lives in a care facility. The remaining forty percent is split between three minor board directors who only care about their quarterly dividends."

Eleanor leaned over the desk, her eyes scanning the legal documents Vance had pulled. Her breath hitched. "The West District freight line... it’s still registered under Sterling-Vance Logistics?"

"Yes!" Vance nodded frantically. "If you file an emergency injunction as the surviving corporate partner of that shell company, you can legally freeze the primary supply line feeding Sterling Apparel’s three largest retail clients. The board won’t be able to fulfill their delivery contracts by Friday. They’ll bleed fifty thousand dollars a day in breach-of-contract penalties."

Eleanor looked up from the papers, her mind racing. The pieces were fitting together with precision. Damon was giving her the knife to cut Sterling Apparel’s throat.

Damon stood up, stepping around the table until he stood directly beside Eleanor’s chair. He rested a palm on her shoulder.

"You force an emergency board meeting for tomorrow morning," He said, his voice dropping into a low cadence beside her ear. "You freeze their freight routes, hand them the tax fraud records Vance pulled from Julian’s desk, and offer them a choice. They can let the company collapse into bankruptcy court, or they can appoint you as the interim managing director."

Vance shuddered in his chair, looking up at Damon with wide eyes. "And... and what if the vice chairman refuses? What if he tries to fight the injunction?"

Damon didn’t look at Vance. His eyes remained fixed on Eleanor’s face. "Then he’ll run into the same bad luck Julian had."

Vance’s face drained of what little color it had left. He nodded rapidly, staring at his shoes. "Understood. I’ll... I’ll prepare the proxy transfer forms for the freight line immediately."

"Get out," Damon said flatly.

Vance grabbed his binder, bowed awkwardly, and backed out of the office as fast as his legs could take him, closing the door behind him with a trembling click.

Silence returned to the back room.

Eleanor stood motionless, staring down at the freight line releases spread across her desk. Her chest rose and fell in rapid beats.

She slowly turned her head, looking at Damon.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. Her tone wasn’t suspicious it was filled with curiosity. "You could have taken Julian’s offshore accounts for yourself and walked away with hundreds of thousands in cash. Why push me to take the whole company?"

Damon reached out, his long fingers cupping her jaw, tilting her head up until her eyes were forced to meet his gaze.

"Because you’re mine," He said plainly, his thumb tracing the soft line of her lip. "And I don’t like owning something small."

A heat bloomed in Eleanor’s chest. The honesty of his words hit her harder than any romantic promise ever could. He claimed her completely, and because she belonged to him, he was lifting her to the top of the city.

She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest. "I’ll take the company," she whispered, her voice resolute. "I’ll take all of it."

A pulse flashed quietly in the corner of Damon’s vision, so dim it barely registered against the light of the room.

[Bonded Partner: Eleanor]

[Favorability: 72/100 (+2)]

[Return Multiplier: 72×]

He looked down at the floating text, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Later that afternoon, Eleanor executed the emergency injunction through Vance’s legal contacts.

By five o’clock, the legal hold had reached the Sterling Apparel Group’s executive accounts. The West District freight line halted operations, grounding twelve commercial delivery trucks at the regional hub. The board finally understood the situation.

They could fight Eleanor and risk having the entire distribution network dragged into a legal battle, or they could surrender one piece of the company to keep their most important contracts alive.

They chose the second option.

An hour later, the first concrete result hit Eleanor’s desk.

To avoid a massive breach-of-contract penalty with their primary department store client, the Sterling board surrendered control of the West District distribution warehouse directly to Velour, transferring the commercial lease and its associated inventory assets to prevent immediate liquidation.

The warehouse was worth roughly four hundred thousand dollars.

For Eleanor, it was the first major piece of Julian’s empire to fall into her hands.

For Damon, something else happened.

The moment the transfer was legally completed, the familiar mechanical voice sounded inside his mind.

[Bonded Partner Eleanor has achieved legitimate asset growth.]

[Asset Value: $400,000]

[Favourability: 72/100]

[Return Multiplier: 72×]

[Calculating Return...]

Damon’s eyes narrowed.

The system had already proven that it could turn Eleanor’s legitimate financial gains into his own returns.

But this time, another notification appeared.

[Return Calculation Complete.]

[Financial Return: $28,800,000]

Damon’s expression finally changed.

Twenty-eight point eight million dollars.

The figure alone was enough to make the corner of his mouth rise.

But the system wasn’t finished.

[Additional Return Condition Fulfilled.]

[Facility Assistance Activated.]

A second panel unfolded before his eyes.

[Facility Assistance: Granted.]

[Facility: Blackstone Private Residence]

[Status: Fully Owned]

[Location: North District]

[Property Type: Luxury Private Residence]

[Ownership: Host]

[Legal Status: Clean]

Damon stared at the information for several seconds.

Then another line appeared.

[Facility Assistance has been completed through a legitimate financial return.]

[No debt.]

[No hidden ownership.]

[No external claim.]

A faint smile spread across his face.

The system wasn’t simply multiplying his money anymore. It was beginning to build his foundation.

A private residence.

A legal identity attached to real property.

A place where he could operate without living in a cramped apartment.

A place worthy of the power and wealth he was beginning to accumulate.

He leaned back in his chair.

Twenty-eight point eight million dollars had entered his account.

And now he had a property worth several million more, completely clean and legally registered under his name.

He looked through the apartment window at the city below.

His old life had consisted of a cheap apartment, a few clothes, and whatever money he could earn through ordinary means.

That life was already over. The system had given him his first real foothold. And Eleanor had provided the trigger.

His eyes narrowed with quiet satisfaction.

"Not bad."

His phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at the banking notification.

The transfer was real.

The property was real.

Everything was legally registered.

No tricks.

No loopholes waiting to collapse.

Just pure, legitimate wealth.

He stood and picked up his coat.

Eleanor was going to take the rest of Sterling’s empire.

And he was going to keep growing alongside her.

But now that he had money, a residence, and his first Bonded Partner...

There was only one question left.

Who would become his second?

He smiled.

He wanted someone with even greater potential.

Someone who could make his next return even more ridiculous.