Scene 1: The Audit Notification

  Time: 10:00 AM. Location: The Exchange.

  The message arrived like a bomb drop.

  Daniel was sipping an espresso, admiring his reflection in a spoon, when his phone buzzed. He looked at the screen, and the color drained from his face faster than water down a drain.

  "Code White!" Daniel shrieked, jumping up and spilling coffee on his expensive suit. "Code White! My father is coming! He's 15 minutes away!"

  Gara looked up from his iPad. "Your dad? The furniture guy? Why?"

  "He wants to inspect the asset!" Daniel hyperventilated, pacing back and forth like a trapped rat. "He texted: 'I'm in the neighborhood. Show me where my money went, or I'm cutting your inheritance.' Oh god, he's going to see Benny. He's going to see the guns!"

  I (Solomon) stood calmly on the mezzanine, looking down at the panic.

  "Relax, Daniel," I ordered, my voice cutting through his hysteria. "This is just an investor site visit. Everyone, battle stations."

  "Gara, hide the guns. Replace them with tablets. Look like IT support." "Niko, put away the knife. Wear a vest. Look like a waiter, not a murderer." "Benny... just stand in the corner and try to look like a statue. Do not smile. Your smile is alarming."

  As the men scrambled, Cara and Moon stood by the bar, watching Daniel panic.

  "Look at him," Cara whispered, shaking her head. "The CFO of a criminal organization, shaking because his daddy is coming to visit. It's pathetic."

  Moon chuckled, checking her makeup in a pocket mirror. "It's cute, in a sad way. But tell me about this Archibald Sterling. Is he bad?"

  "He's rich," Cara replied. "And picky. Daniel says he once fired a maid because the pillow fluffing wasn't symmetrical."

  Moon raised an eyebrow. "Sounds familiar. We have a boss who audits us if we use too many napkins. So, we are swapping a Financial Auditor (Solomon) for a Physical Auditor (Archibald). Great. Just what I needed—more men telling me how to do my job."

  "At least Solomon pays us to listen," Cara smirked. "This old man just does it for sport. Get ready, 'Siren'. Time to act like a wholesome businesswoman."

  Scene 2: The Corporate Arrival

  Time: 10:15 AM.

  A sleek, black Bentley Flying Spur pulled up to the curb. It didn't roar like a sports car; it hummed with quiet, expensive authority. Behind it was a black Cadillac Escalade.

  Four security guards stepped out of the Escalade. They wore grey suits, earpieces, and sunglasses. They moved in a diamond formation, securing the perimeter before the VIP door even opened.

  I watched from the window, analyzing their movement.

  Internal Monologue (Solomon): "Look at that spacing. They cover 360 degrees. One eyes the roof, one eyes the street, two on the target. No wasted movement. No theatrics. This is what money buys. It buys Invulnerability."

  Archibald Sterling stepped out. He was a man made of granite and skepticism. He adjusted his cufflinks, ignored the "The Exchange" sign, and walked straight to the entrance. He ran his finger along the heavy oak doorframe, checking for dust or rot.

  Scene 3: The Tour

  Daniel met him at the door, sweating profusely. "Dad! Hi! Welcome to... uh... the office."

  Archibald ignored him completely. He looked past his son, focusing on the interior. "This doorframe," he muttered. "White Oak. Imported?"

  Before Daniel could stutter, Moon stepped forward.

  She looked impeccable in a modest but chic business dress (no cleavage today, just class). She smelled of sandalwood and professionalism.

  "It is French White Oak, Mr. Sterling," Moon said, her voice smooth. "Chosen specifically because its grain reflects the amber lighting of the lounge, making every guest look five years younger. It’s not just wood; it’s psychology."

  Archibald paused. He looked at Moon. He expected a bimbo; he got a curator. "Hmph. Correct," Archibald nodded, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "At least someone here knows materials."

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  He walked inside. He pointed a finger at the bar counter. "And hygiene? Bars are usually filth pits."

  Cara marched over. She held a clipboard and looked even scarier than Archibald. "Mr. Sterling," Cara said firmly, looking him in the eye. "We operate under Hospital-grade sanitation protocols. The surfaces are wiped every 30 minutes with industrial disinfectant. If you find a single bacteria, I will fire the cleaning crew myself. Would you like to check the logs?"

  Archibald stared at Cara. Cara stared back. "No," Archibald grunted. "That won't be necessary. Efficient."

  He looked around, flanked by my two managers.

  Internal Monologue (Archibald): "This isn't a playground. These women... they aren't just pretty faces. One is a diplomat, the other is a drill sergeant. Daniel couldn't have hired them. He doesn't have the eye. Who is really running this show?"

  His eyes landed on me. I stood at the top of the stairs, waiting.

  Scene 4: The CFO's Defense

  Location: The VIP Office.

  We sat down. Archibald, Daniel, and me.

  "Enough decorations," Archibald said, leaning back in the leather chair. He rubbed the armrest—checking the leather quality. Top grain. Good. "Show me the numbers. Daniel, you said you're a CFO. Prove it. Or are you just paying these pretty women to cover up your losses?"

  Daniel froze. His hands shook. He looked at me.

  Internal Monologue (Daniel): "Don't look at me like that, Dad. Please. Just once... look at me like I'm not a mistake. I built this! Well, Solomon built it, but I paid for the paint! I'm not a loser!"

  I didn't speak. I slid a piece of paper across the desk, hidden under a ledger—a cheat sheet. I tapped the screen on the wall behind Archibald.

  Internal Monologue (Solomon): "Focus, Daniel. Emotion is a liability. Data is your shield. Read the shield."

  Daniel saw my signal. He took a deep breath. He picked up the tablet.

  "Actually, Father," Daniel started, his voice wavering but gaining strength. "We are not operating at a loss."

  He stood up and pointed to the chart.

  "Our EBITDA (Earnings Before Interest, Taxes, Depreciation, and Amortization) for Q1 is up 200%," Daniel said. He almost stumbled on 'Amortization', his tongue tying up, but I caught his eye and nodded slowly. He slowed down.

  "Our ROI (Return on Investment) on the renovation is currently sitting at 45%," Daniel continued. "We have optimized our COGS (Cost of Goods Sold) by negotiating directly with suppliers... and removing middlemen."

  Archibald’s eyes widened. He sat up straighter. The contempt on his face was replaced by shock.

  "You know what EBITDA means?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "And 45% ROI? My furniture division is struggling to hit 12%."

  "I do," Daniel said. He looked at his father, his fear momentarily replaced by pride. "And our cash flow is positive. We are... solvent. Dad."

  Internal Monologue (Archibald): "My god. The boy is speaking English. He's not whining about allowances. He's talking about margins. He's standing straight. Who taught him this? It wasn't business school—he failed that. It's this man... Gats."

  Archibald turned his gaze to me. It was a heavy, evaluating look.

  Internal Monologue (Archibald regarding Solomon): "Solomon Gats. He sits there like a statue. Cheap suit, taped glasses, looks like a library clerk. But his eyes... they don't blink. He's feeding Daniel the confidence, maybe even the numbers. This man is dangerous. He's not just a business partner; he's the puppet master. But... he's making my son successful. Do I warn Daniel? Or do I let the boy swim with the shark?"

  Scene 5: The Security Gap

  The inspection was over. Archibald stood up to leave.

  "You've surprised me, Daniel," Archibald said, buttoning his jacket. "Keep this up. Maybe you aren't a total waste of tuition money."

  He turned to me. "Gats. You run a tight ship. If you ever want a real job in Corporate Logistics, call me. I pay better than whatever you're skimming off the top here."

  "I'm happy where I am, Sir," I replied politely. "I prefer equity to salary."

  "Equity," Archibald laughed dryly. "Just make sure you don't go bankrupt."

  We walked them to the car.

  As Archibald approached the Bentley, his security team moved. It was fluid. One guard spotted Niko (who was hiding on the balcony, peeking over the railing) instantly. He didn't yell. He just whispered into his mic, and the team shifted formation, putting their bodies between Archibald and Niko's line of sight.

  Niko, from above, whispered into the comms: "Whoa. Did you see that? They clocked me. Fast. These guys are pro."

  I watched the Bentley drive away.

  Daniel slumped against the door, exhausted but happy. "He liked it! He actually liked it! Did you see his face when I said EBITDA?"

  But I wasn't celebrating. I was staring at the empty space where the professional bodyguards had stood.

  Internal Monologue (Solomon): "Archibald isn't a crime lord. He's just a businessman. Yet his security is superior to mine. Benny is a tank—good for brawls. Niko is a predator—good for killing. But neither of them is a Shield. Neither of them could spot a sniper and block the target in 0.5 seconds."

  "We are playing with fire. As we grow, the threats won't be drunk bikers. They will be professionals. Assassins. Snipers. And right now... my head is exposed."

  "We have a gap," I whispered to myself.

  "What gap?" Moon asked, coming up behind me. "We nailed it. The old man was impressed."

  "Security," I replied, adjusting my glasses. "We survived the inspection. But we aren't ready for a war."

  I turned back to the club. The victory felt hollow. The numbers were good, but the Risk Assessment had just flashed a warning light.

  Internal Monologue (Solomon): "I need a Shield. Not a thug. A Shield. And quality shields are expensive."

  End of Chapter 26.

  Offense (Niko) and Bulk (Benny), they are completely missing a "Shield." The gap between street-level thuggery and corporate-grade security is a chasm that needs to be filled immediately.

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  Boardroom Question: What did you think of Daniel's big moment? Is he finally becoming a "real" CFO, or is he just a well-trained puppet?

  "Shield"? ??? Ex-Special Forces? ??? Private Security Firm? ??? Or someone even more... unconventional?

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  Copyright ? 2026 by Gats VII. All rights reserved. This story is officially published only on Royal Road, Scribble Hub, and Patreon. If you are reading this elsewhere, it has been stolen.