Chapter 2 The Company Killer

Nathaniel Cole Wolfe leaned back against the velvet-lined headboard of his suite, nursing a half-full glass of Oban scotch. Outside the high-rise penthouse window, Thorne Towers glittered like a crown of fire in the New York skyline. A fitting image, considering what he'd just done: taken the first bite of a dynasty. The Empire of Thorne was cracking, he could hear it already, the fracture lines splintering under his weight.

The room was still buzzing with the echoes of that night's announcement. He let the silence stretch around him, let it settle over his chest like armor. The taste of victory lingered on his tongue but so did something else. Something spiced with challenge and resistance.

Loraine Thorne.

He saw her again, her image vivid in his head, how she had frozen when Damien Thorne had made the announcement, her features carved from disbelief and fury. The way her knuckles whitened around the stem of her wine glass, the twitch of her jaw as she held back words sharper than knives. That fury had danced in her eyes green, if he remembered correctly, like the depth of forest shadows. And yet, even in her rage, she was art. Dangerous art. The kind that set men on fire just before it slit their throats.

He smiled, slowly.

Hate, he could handle. But hers? Hers lit something in him, something more than competition. It was gasoline to his ambitions.

Nathan shifted in the bed and reached for his phone on the nightstand. A million notifications blinked at him, articles speculating about his appointment, industry group chats already shifting their allegiances. A text from a senator's aide. Tens of congratulatory emails from his own executive team. He expected as much, ever since the death of Damien Thorne's only male child, everyone in the business world had been waiting with bated breath to know who was the new heir and his appointment was definitely not one that they had been expecting.

As if summoned, the phone buzzed in his hand. He picked it up and answered without checking the ID.

"You've stirred the nest," came a voice like gravel and smoke Conrad Reid, his closest ally and business partner. A man who understood the game Nathan was playing. A man who, in some ways, had helped shape it. They had met several years ago, eight to be precise. It felt like a century ago to Nathan.

Nathan chuckled. "You could say that. The storm's officially begun."

"And the empire?"

"Already listing," Nathan said, taking a sip of his scotch. "The board is divided. The press is circling. And Damien Thorne has made the first mistake by publicly choosing me over his grandkids. It's only a matter of time before the fault lines crack."

"Loraine won't make it easy."

Nathan's gaze sharpened. "No, she won't." Ever since he joined the company, Nathan had made it his to do to know those he would have to go up against. Loraine Thorne had topped that list.

There was a pause. Then Conrad spoke again. "You admire her."

Nathan didn't deny it. "She's brilliant. Brutal. Raised in wealth but carved out her own reputation anyway. And she has fire God, does she have fire." His voice dropped, thoughtful. "She would make destruction look like poetry."

Conrad let out a low whistle. "Careful, brother. You're either about to destroy her or fall for her. And I don't know which is worse."

Nathan laughed, but it was a quiet thing. "I didn't build Wolfe Capital to this height, infiltrate the Thorne empire to fall for anyone. The plan is to tear apart the men who thought I didn't belong at their tables."

He stood and crossed to the minibar, pouring himself another two fingers of scotch. The dark reflection in the window stared back at him broad shoulders, sharp eyes, a jawline people in interviews called "commanding." His press nickname came to mind: "The Company Killer". A title earned after two mergers that bankrupted the competitors while elevating him to elite status. The status that had caught Damien's attention. He smiled.

He had come from nothing. Literally nothing. A single mother with no pension, no inheritance. His first job was flipping burgers, then temp jobs, then university on scholarship. No shortcuts. No family name. Powerful men had ensured that. The only legacy he had was the one he built himself.

But now, he had this name: Thorne.

And it was about to mean something very different.

"This is only phase one," Nathan said into the phone, his tone sharpened with promise. "Six months ago, I put the proposal on Damien's desk. A merger of equals, I told him. But I knew from the moment I walked into his office... he was a man who saw himself in me. And that was the key."

"You played him."

"I gave him what he wanted to see. Loyalty. Vision. A legacy." Nathan smirked. "But the truth? I'm not interested in being part of the legacy. I'm interested in ending it."

There was a long silence on the other end.

Then Conrad said, "Just don't forget how dangerous dynasties are when they bleed. They don't die quietly."

Nathan's smile returned, slow and full of steel. "Neither do I."

"Get ready, phase two will start soon enough."

He ended the call and looked out at the glittering empire below. A kingdom built on secrets, blood, and ruthless ambition. A kingdom he was going to burn to the ground.

And when the ashes settled, there would be only one name left standing, his.

Nathan Wolfe.

But as he walked back toward his bed, something tugged at him again, not strategy, not numbers. Her. That damn green fire in her eyes.

Loraine Thorne

He didn't know yet what to do with her. With the others it had been easy getting rid of them and laying waste to all their efforts but Loraine, she didn't look like one to just let things happen.

And he didn't know if he was excited about the challenge she would pose or if he was excited about her as a person.

Maybe both.

And that was going to be a problem.