He ridiculed me in front of his friends for being unemployed. None of them realized I owned the very company they worked for—until the day I let them go. And by the time they understood… it was already too late.
THE HUNTER’S GAME
The penthouse on the Upper East Side tonight reeked of Cohiba cigars and the tart aroma of 25-year-old Macallan. The New York City lights outside shone brightly, but they couldn’t match the fiery arrogance in Mark Sterling’s eyes.
Mark was a quintessential Wall Street “Golden Boy”: a bespoke Tom Ford suit, a gleaming Patek Philippe watch on his wrist, and a mouth that never stopped spouting million-dollar figures. He stood surrounded by his college friends – now executives and senior analysts at venture capital firms.
And then there was me. Leo Vance.
I sat in the corner of the sofa, my slightly worn gray hoodie and old New Balance sneakers making me look like a pizza delivery guy who’d wandered into a feast of gods.
1. Teasing at a Party
“Hey Leo,” Mark said, his voice a tone higher to make sure everyone could hear. “I heard you’re still ‘searching for your passion’? Or in other words, still living off unemployment benefits?”
The group burst into laughter. Dry, mocking laughter, the kind of laughter that comes from those who consider themselves elite.
“Come on, Mark,” Julian, a portfolio manager at Ares Global, chimed in. “You have to understand. Not everyone has the resilience to handle 80 hours a week like we do. Some are born to lead, some are born to… sit back and wait for things to fall into their laps.”
I took a sip of water, smiling gently. “I’m just taking a break. The market is volatile these days; it’s better to stay out of it than to rush headlong into disaster.”
Mark stepped closer, placing his heavy hand on my shoulder, the smell of alcohol emanating from him. “Standing outside? You’re dying, Leo. Do you know what deal we just made? Apex Holdings just acquired our entire system. We’re about to receive bonuses enough to buy your dilapidated apartment ten times over.”
He turned to the crowd, raising his glass. “Let’s drink to the job-takers, and pray that our unemployed friend finds a job… as a security guard at my new office building!”
The glasses clinked. I remained silent. I didn’t tell them I’d spent the last six months on a Greek island, not on vacation, but signing secret transfer agreements through a network of shell companies.
2. A Cruel Monday Morning
Monday morning at the headquarters of Ares Global – now a subsidiary of Apex Holdings. The atmosphere was tense but exhilarating. Everyone was anticipating the arrival of the new Chairman, dubbed the “Ghost of Greenwich” for his secretive lifestyle and ruthless takeover tactics.
Mark, Julian, and their group stood in neat rows in the lobby last night. They were polished, confident, and ready to curry favor with the new boss.
“They say he’s incredibly ruthless,” Julian whispered. “He just fired the entire London branch’s executive team with a single email at 3 a.m.”
Mark chuckled smugly. “Rest assured. Our KPIs are top-notch. He needs hounds like us to make money.”
Just then, a sleek black car pulled up. The door opened.
I stepped out. Still wearing those New Balance shoes, but this time I was dressed in a dark navy suit, logo-free, but the vicuña fabric was enough to make any fashion expert hold their breath.
The lobby fell silent. Mark’s jaw dropped, the tablet in his hand nearly falling to the floor.
“Leo? You… what the hell are you doing here?” Mark took a step forward, his face menacing. “Security! Why let an unemployed man in here? Is he here to apply for a job?”
I walked straight past Mark as if he were a ghost. I stepped onto the highest platform, where a microphone was already set up. The corporation’s head of human resources bowed so low it almost touched the ground: “Welcome, Chairman Vance.”
3. The Twist: The 9 AM Verdict
I looked down at the crowd below. My gaze stopped at Mark. His face changed from bright red to a waxy white. Julian looked like he was about to faint.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” my voice echoed, cold and precise. “I am Leo Vance, owner of Apex Holdings. And as of 9 AM this morning, I am officially the owner of your lives and careers.”
I opened the file on the podium.
“Mark Sterling. You were right about one thing last night: the market is very volatile. And in that volatility, I discovered you leaked insider information to a competitor for personal gain in this merger.”
Mark stammered, “Leo… no… it was a misunderstanding… we’re friends…”
“We were never friends, Mark,” I interrupted. “Friends don’t mock each other when they think the other is at the bottom of society. Friends don’t betray the company they work for.”
I turned to Julian and the others. “All of you who were at the party last night, those who laughed about ‘worthiness.’ You spent too much time polishing your egos and too little time checking that
“Who’s really signing your paychecks?”
4. The Climax: The Purge
I held up the USB key.
“Inside is the list of layoffs. No severance pay. No letters of recommendation. And as for Mark, my lawyer is standing at the Manhattan District Attorney’s office with full evidence of your financial fraud.”
Mark collapsed to the lobby floor. The confidence from last night had vanished, replaced by a trembling, pathetic figure. The crowd around him parted, no one daring to approach him. They realized that the “unemployed” they despised held the power of life and death over their future.
“You ask me why I pretended to be unemployed?” I smiled, a smile devoid of warmth. “Because it’s the best way to know who will stand by you when you have nothing, and who will step on your head to feel superior.”
I closed the file.
“Security, get Mr. Sterling out of the building. And make sure he doesn’t take anything with him, including that Patek Philippe – because under the new contract terms, it’s property acquired with ill-gotten gains from my company.”
5. The End: The Solitude of the Peak
I walked into my private office on the 80th floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Manhattan.
My phone vibrated. A text from Mark: “Leo, please, I have a family, a mortgage…”
I pressed the ‘Block’ button.
The embarrassment of last night at the party wasn’t mine. It belonged to them. The truth is, in this world, the winner isn’t the one who talks the loudest, but the one who controls the game without their opponent even knowing it’s started.
By the time they realize it…it’s already too late.
CHAPTER 2: THE COURT IN THE DARK
1. The Collapse of an Illusion
Mark Sterling sat opposite me across the four-meter-long ebony table. He was no longer wearing the crisp Tom Ford suit of the night before. His tie was loose, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his hands, once so confident as to toss a glass of Macallan, now trembled uncontrollably.
Beside him sat a young lawyer sweating profusely. Beside me were two real “sharks” of New York’s legal world, whose consulting fees were measured in minutes.
“Leo, we can settle this,” Mark said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll pay it back. I’ll sign anything. Don’t take this to the district attorney. It will ruin my life.”
I pushed a thin stack of documents across the table. “Mark, do you still think this is about money? Do you still think you’re in a negotiating position?”
2. The Naked Truth
I switched on the large screen on the wall. Complex lines of code and transaction records appeared.
“Remember the Belmont merger three years ago?” I asked, my voice eerily calm. “I was a low-level associate then, and you were the star of the analysis department. I gave you a report on their financial vulnerabilities. You threw it in the trash and called me a ‘potential unemployed’ for being so pessimistic.”
I switched slides.
“But you didn’t throw it away. You used those very vulnerabilities to short-sell Belmont stock through an account in your mother-in-law’s name in the Cayman Islands. You made $1.2 million. And you used that money to buy your current CEO position at Ares Global.”
Mark froze. His lawyer bowed his head and began gathering his papers. He was smart enough to know when a lawsuit had become hopeless.
“I waited, Mark. Not because I couldn’t sue you then, but because I wanted to wait until you were at your absolute peak, when you felt untouchable… that’s when the fall would be most painful.”
3. The Climax: The Devil’s Contract
I pulled out a single piece of paper. It wasn’t a lawsuit. It was an agreement to relinquish all assets and rights.
“You have two choices,” I said, each word heavy as lead. “One, sign here. You will leave New York empty-handed, your Hamptons apartment, your Patek, your Cayman accounts… all will be recovered to compensate for the losses to the corporation. In return, I will not send evidence of your internal fraud to the FBI.”
Mark looked at the paper as if it were a death sentence. “And the second choice?”
“Your second option is to walk out of this room. Within ten minutes, federal police will be waiting for you in the lobby. You’ll have ten years in federal prison to think about who’s really the ‘unemployed’ one.”
4. The End of a “Golden Boy”
Mark picked up the pen. Drops of sweat fell onto the polished wooden desk. He signed his name with a scrawled, broken stroke. It was the moment ten years of arrogance crumbled completely.
As he stood up to leave, I called after him:
“Hey, Mark.”
He stopped at the door, his shoulders slumped.
“I just bought the security company that manages this building. If you need a job… remember what you said last night. I can get you a parking garage guard position. At least there you won’t have to worry about market fluctuations.”
Mark didn’t turn around. He walked out, past the former employees who now looked at him with disgust.
I sat back in the empty room, watching the sunset over Manhattan. The game was over. The pain of the betrayal ten years ago had been settled. In the world of hunters, the biggest mistake isn’t failure, but underestimating the one silently observing you from the shadows.
