Season 3 chapter 13
The Corporate Symposium
Filoska hung up her secure line, her heart pounding slightly against her ribs. Lying to Kniya and Malesh was an incredibly risky move. If the Managing Directors of Kavilson Steel and Malesh Energy ever found out she was taking a secret meeting with Leon Debestez—the head of the royal family—down in central KDC, they would probably consider it corporate treason.
She took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, and walked to the private elevator, riding it exactly two floors up to the executive suite.
She stepped out into the hallway and pushed open the shattered, hinge-less double doors of the main office.
It was absolute, unfiltered chaos. Kniya was standing on top of his mahogany desk, Salesh was waving his manila folder like a weapon, and Malesh was aggressively drawing more lines on the whiteboard. They were all screaming over each other in a deafening three-way argument about the black-market price of religious statues, the historical flaws of democracy, and the biological consequences of atheism.
Filoska stood in the doorway for five seconds before she finally snapped.
"What the fuck is literally going on in here?!" Filoska yelled over the noise. "What are you guys literally doing in this room?! Are you guys having some kind of wrestling match?!"
Kniya immediately stopped yelling. He aggressively straightened his expensive suit jacket, stepped down from his desk, and looked at her with an incredibly formal, completely deadpan expression.
"We are not wrestling, Miss Vinton," Kniya stated smoothly, his voice devoid of any emotion. "We were simply discussing federal macroeconomics with highly formal and proper manners. Please do not interrupt the civilized intellectual discourse."
Filoska put her hand over her face, dragging it down in pure exhaustion.
"Okay, I am not following that," Filoska sighed. "And I am not going to ask you more about this thing. Actually, I just wanted to have a holiday for today and tomorrow. I just have a sudden family emergency now. Please, can you allow me a holiday? Grant me a holiday."
The Attendance Man
Kniya's formal posture instantly vanished. He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her.
"No, you absolutely cannot get any holiday, Miss Vinton," Kniya declared proudly.
Malesh dropped his whiteboard marker and glared at his business partner. "Are you crazy, Kniya? It is a family emergency, and you have to give her a holiday. It is really legally required for a trillion-credit company to provide bereavement leave."
"You know, Malesh, saying 'No' to a holiday request is literally my absolute favorite dialogue to speak in my entire life," Kniya smirked wickedly. "And you know I have not personally granted a holiday to any employee in my entire life... because there is a specific fucking person for that."
Kniya reached under his desk and slammed a hidden button. Suddenly, incredibly dramatic, booming thunder-drum music started playing from the office surround-sound speakers.
"Behold!" Kniya yelled over the drums. "The fucking attendance man! Please, grace us with your big presence here!"
A terrified, low-level HR clerk practically sprinted into the room, holding a massive leather-bound ledger. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
Before the clerk could even open his mouth, Malesh stepped forward, violently snatched the heavy notebook out of his hands, and flipped to the 'V' section.
Malesh dragged his finger down the page.
"Now I shall announce the official attendance of Filoska Vinton," Malesh stated loudly. "And it is a fucking one hundred percent, Kniya Anderson, you idiot! Now you have to legally allow her the holiday!"
The Sauce Assassination
Kniya's eyes went wide. He stumbled backward, clutching his chest as if he had just been physically shot.
"No!" Kniya wailed, dramatically collapsing onto the expensive office rug. "It can't be! It cannot be like that! How is it one hundred percent?!"
Kniya rolled onto his side, looking up at Filoska with a look of pure, theatrical betrayal.
"I know your secret, Filoska!" Kniya gasped, pointing a shaking finger at her. "I know you are secretly dating the attendance guy! And that is exactly why your attendance counter is full! You corrupted the system!"
"I am not dating the attendance guy!" Filoska yelled, deeply offended.
"Oh, it's really hurting me from the inside!" Kniya cried out, rolling on the floor. "I knew that it would happen! We literally destroyed your date with that idiot Antues last time, so this is your grand revenge! But why are your romantic choices really so degraded that you even dated an attendance guy?! Please match your corporate profile level!"
Filoska's face turned bright red with rage. She marched right up to Kniya and delivered a stinging, absolutely flawless slap right across his cheek.
SMACK!
Kniya let out a dramatic yelp and fell flat on his back. While Filoska and Malesh were looking down at him, Kniya quickly reached into his tailored pants pocket, pulled out a small plastic packet of cafeteria tomato sauce, ripped the top off with his teeth, and aggressively squeezed the red paste all over his lips and chin.
He coughed violently, pointing at his own face.
"Oh! Look!" Kniya wheezed, acting like he was on his deathbed. "Blood is flowing out of my mouth! The Vice President has assassinated me!"
"Stop acting, Kniya," Malesh stated flatly, completely unbothered. "That is clearly condiment sauce."
Kniya sat up, wiping the ketchup off his chin. He glared at Filoska.
"Okay, so this means Filoska..." Kniya narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You are secretly dating Malesh! I knew about this thing! I was completely wrong about my previous assumptions!"
The Second Standoff
The air in the room instantly froze.
In the blink of an eye, Malesh reached into his holster, pulled out his black-steel revolver, and pointed the barrel directly at Kniya's forehead.
"Kniya, we are going to have a standoff again, you fucking idiot," Malesh growled, his deadpan composure cracking into genuine, lethal frustration. "How did you say that?! I explicitly told you the horrific reason why! My brain's reward system is biologically ruined from degenerate literature!"
"Okay! It's nothing like that!" Kniya yelled, holding his hands up in surrender as the revolver stared him down. "I told you about the reason! I was just making a joke!"
Filoska didn't wait for Kniya to finish his apology. She stepped forward and aggressively kicked Kniya in the shin. A second later, Malesh holstered his gun and delivered a swift kick to Kniya's other leg. Salesh, not wanting to be left out, grabbed two heavy decorative pillows off the sofa and hurled them directly at Kniya's head.
"Ow! Hey! Stop!" Kniya yelled, shielding his face from the barrage of pillows and kicks. "Don't curse at me, Malesh! I was just kidding! Filoska, you can go! Take the fucking holiday!"
"Thank you," Filoska huffed, fixing her skirt and turning toward the door.
While Malesh was distracted watching Filoska leave, Kniya reached out from the floor, grabbed Malesh's precious stack of flatulence-industry newspapers, clicked his gold lighter, and set the corner of the papers completely on fire.
The flames immediately caught on the dry paper.
Malesh spun around, his eyes widening in pure horror. "No! You cannot do it! My market research!"
Instead of putting the fire out, Malesh desperately grabbed his own water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and started aggressively dripping water droplets directly onto his own cheeks, fully committing to the dramatic soap-opera scenario by faking his own tears.
"Look at my tears, Kniya!" Malesh yelled over the small desk fire. "I am weeping for the lost analytics!"
The Departure
Filoska didn't even look back. She walked out of the executive suite, letting the heavy doors swing shut behind her, muting the sound of Kniya laughing and Malesh dramatically faking his tears.
She took the elevator all the way down to the ground floor of the Seistain Hub.
She walked out through the massive glass lobby and stepped onto the busy sidewalk. Pulling her coat tight against the wind, she looked down the street.
Parked quietly in the loading zone, entirely unmarked but undeniably expensive, was a long, black luxury sedan sent by the royal family.
Filoska took a deep breath, glanced around to make absolutely sure none of Kavilson Steel's loyal orphans were watching her, and quickly stepped into the backseat. The heavy door clicked shut, and the car immediately pulled away from the curb, heading south toward the Dontils Villa.
The Arrival at Dontils Villa
The unmarked royal sedan glided smoothly off the main federal highway and onto a long, private, tree-lined driveway deep within the Recton Estate of central KDC.
Filoska Vinten sat in the back of the luxurious car, looking out the tinted window. The Dontils Villa was not just a house; it was a sprawling, multi-billion credit architectural masterpiece. Massive white stone pillars, perfectly manicured gardens, and an army of heavily armed perimeter security made Kavilson Steel's headquarters look almost modest.
The car pulled up to the towering front gates. Two elite, highly professional gate guards in crisp uniforms immediately stepped forward, verified the vehicle's credentials, and opened the massive wrought-iron doors.
"Right this way, Vice President Vinten," one of the gate guards said politely, opening her car door and gesturing toward the main entrance. "Lord Debestez is waiting for you in the east wing."
Filoska stepped out, smoothing her skirt, and followed the professional security detail into the cavernous, incredibly quiet halls of the royal mansion.