Season 3 chapter 14
The Royal Disrespect
Deep inside the east wing, inside a lavish, gold-trimmed lounge room, the absolute head of the Eight Great Families was currently losing another screaming match with his own employee.
"Sir, you should at least attend the ceremony," the personal guard sighed, leaning casually against a priceless marble statue. "We don't have anyone else like you to attend this. You are free all day. A shithole like you should absolutely attend this. You are a free guy. Just go lay the brick."
Leon Debestez grabbed his own hair, completely infuriated by the absolute lack of respect.
"Oh, fucking God!" Leon yelled, his face turning bright red. "Why the fuck do you talk to me like you are the boss?! I am the head of the royal family! Why is this entire fucking country like that?! Everyone has absolutely zero sense of proper manners!"
"I am just giving you logical schedule advice, sir," the guard replied, picking dirt from his fingernails.
"And yeah, I can see one thing!" Leon snapped back, pointing an angry finger at the guard. "I can vividly notice that you are also completely free right now! You are just standing there! Why can't you just go and attend the fucking ceremony instead of me?!"
The guard scoffed, giving Leon a look of pure, condescending disgust.
"The villa is not for me," the guard stated bluntly. "And I am not some lower-caste human like you. So how can I possibly attend that?"
Leon's jaw literally dropped. He stared at the guard, absolutely paralyzed by the sheer, unfiltered audacity. The personal guard had just called the wealthiest, highest-ranking royal in the Republic of DI a 'lower-caste human'.
"I am a royal!" Leon screamed, completely losing his mind. "I am your boss! Okay, that is it! You have pushed me too far! I am officially going to cut your salary down to exactly twenty credits per month! You are going to starve!"
"Sir, you can't," the guard replied, totally unbothered.
The Dubbed Greeting
Before Leon could physically throw a vase at the guard's head, the heavy oak doors to the lounge swung open. The two professional gate guards escorted Filoska into the room and immediately bowed out, closing the doors behind her.
Leon froze. He instantly dropped his furious, screaming posture, aggressively adjusted his expensive suit jacket, and completely shifted his demeanor back to the incredibly formal, terrifyingly wealthy head of the royal family.
He took a step forward, putting on a perfectly charming smile.
"Ah. Well, Filoska, you have—" Leon started, his voice dripping with refined elegance.
"—to become my girl for tonight, Filoska," the guard interrupted seamlessly, stepping right in front of Leon and flashing a completely sleazy smile at the Vice President. "It would be a really great dream of mine to take you out."
Filoska stopped dead in her tracks, her face twisting into a mask of pure, absolute revulsion.
Behind the guard, Leon's formal composure instantly shattered into a million pieces.
"You bastard!" Leon shrieked, violently shoving the guard out of the way. "Why the fuck are you speaking in between my sentences?! I was greeting her!"
"I was just shooting my shot, sir," the guard shrugged shamelessly.
Leon rubbed his temples, taking a deep, desperate breath to calm his surging blood pressure. He looked at Filoska, who was still staring at the guard with intense discomfort.
"Filoska," Leon sighed heavily, completely embarrassed. "I think so... it's not quite a good place to discuss our matters in here. Let's discuss this highly classified thing in the private meeting hall."
The Salary Threat
Leon turned on his heel and marched out of the lounge, heading down the hallway toward the secure meeting room. Filoska followed closely behind him, eager to get the actual business started so she could go home and enjoy her incredibly rare, legally extorted holiday.
A few seconds later, she heard heavy footsteps right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. The incredibly disrespectful guard was casually strolling right behind them, whistling a tune.
Leon pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the meeting hall, walked inside, and immediately spun around to glare at the guard trying to follow them in.
"Hey! Fucking bastard!" Leon barked, throwing his hand up like a traffic cop. "Can't you just get the fuck out of the room?! This is a highly classified royal meeting! There is absolutely no need for a poor person like you to be here!"
The guard stopped in the doorway, resting his hand on the doorframe. He looked at Leon, then looked at Filoska, his eyes narrowing with fake, highly exaggerated suspicion.
"Sir..." the guard said, his voice dropping into a tone of deep, judgmental concern. "What are you going to do with her in this room all alone?"
"We are having a meeting!" Leon screamed.
"I don't know, sir," the guard clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I think so you should not take advantage of a young, beautiful girl in a locked room. It is a massive HR violation. My conscience is telling me to stay."
"Get the fuck out!" Leon roared, his face turning purple.
The guard let out a dark, evil little smirk. He slowly took a step back into the hallway.
"Whatever you say, sir," the guard mocked, grabbing the brass door handles. "And about the salary thing... I am going to get my full payment anyway, sir. You know I will."
SLAM.
The guard violently pulled the heavy doors shut, leaving Leon and Filoska standing alone in the massive meeting hall.
Leon stood there for three entire seconds, his hands curled into tight fists, trembling with pure rage.
"FUCK YOU, IDIOT!" Leon screamed at the top of his lungs directly at the closed wooden doors. "FUCK YOU! YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD!"
Filoska slowly set her purse down on the massive conference table. She had spent the morning watching the Managing Directors of Kavilson Steel and Malesh Energy threaten each other with hand-cannons over spilled coffee, and now she was watching the most powerful royal in DI scream at a piece of wood because his bodyguard kept bullying him.
"Lord Debestez," Filoska sighed, completely exhausted by the wealthy men of this country. "Can we please just get to the point?"
The Royal Interrogation
The massive, heavy wooden doors of the private meeting hall were completely shut, sealing Filoska and Leon Debestez inside.
Leon stood at the head of the impossibly long, polished mahogany conference table. He adjusted his impeccably tailored, diamond-cufflinked suit, lacing his fingers together behind his back. He began to pace slowly, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous room. He was clearly trying to act like a dramatic, highly intimidating movie villain.
"Vice President Vinten," Leon began, his voice dripping with exaggerated, suffocatingly formal royal elegance. "The highly classified matter for which I have summoned you to my estate today... is of the absolute utmost, geopolitical importance."
Filoska sat in a plush leather chair, resting her hands on the table. She kept her face completely neutral.
"What is it, my lord?" Filoska asked carefully.
Leon stopped pacing. He turned his head slowly, looking at her with cold, calculating eyes.
"As you know... and as I know..." Leon whispered dramatically, leaning over the table. "You work in the highest executive echelons of Kavilson Steel. You know exactly where their heavily fortified main headquarters is located."
"Yes, my lord," Filoska nodded slowly, playing along. "I am the Vice President. I definitely know where the main headquarters is located."
"And," Leon continued, his eyes narrowing into deadly slits. "You also know exactly where Kniya Anderson and Malesh spend the vast majority of their time. You know the exact schedules of your Managing Directors. Which means... you must know their current, exact location at this very second."
Leon stood back up, violently slamming his hands flat on the mahogany table.
"So, yeah. You get exactly what I am trying to say," Leon threatened, his formal tone slipping slightly into sheer aggression.
Filoska swallowed hard. She knew exactly what he was implying, but she needed to buy time.
"My lord, can you please explain it to me in a slightly better way?" Filoska asked, feigning ignorance. "The corporation has many branches."
"Do not play fucking games with me, Filoska!" Leon snapped, his royal composure breaking. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a thick, expensive fountain pen, and threw it across the table. It clattered to a stop right in front of her. Next, he slid a blank piece of thick parchment paper toward her.
"You need to write their exact coordinates down on that paper right fucking now," Leon commanded, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register. "And if you don't... just wait and see what happens to you. If you write the wrong location, or if you try to protect those two corporate parasites, I will personally verify the coordinates with my top-class, highly elite assassins. And if they find out you lied to the royal family? You will face some seriously fatal consequences."
Filoska stared at the blank paper. Her heart hammered in her chest.
If she gave up Kniya and Malesh's location to a royal hit squad, her bosses would undoubtedly survive—because they were heavily armed, highly paranoid trillionaires—and then they would fire her. Or shoot her. But if she refused Leon right now, she might not walk out of this villa alive.
Fuck it, Filoska thought. They are in the Seistain Main Hub. The building has bulletproof glass and orphan snipers on the roof. They can take care of themselves.
"Fine," Filoska sighed heavily, picking up the fountain pen. "I will give you the location. But if your assassins end up blowing up my office building, I expect full corporate compensation."
She quickly scribbled down the exact floor and suite number of the Seistain Hub executive office, slid the pen aside, and pushed the paper back across the table.