Sitting behind my desk, I rubbed at my temples, trying to ignore the ongoing headache that kept shaking my capability to lead. Thomas, oblivious to my pain, carried on with his presentation and the outline for our next meeting.

"I hate to say it, Ibrahim, but I really don't think we should-" he paused, noticing my tortured expression. "Yo, are you alright?"

I nodded my head. "I'm just stressed. It's been awhile since we had to go through this many meetings."

"Tell me about it," he chuckled, leaning against my desk. "Anyway, you should really rest."

"You know we can't."

"Ibrahim," he said in a stern tone.

"We have a deal to close-"

"Take a break. You're only human," interrupted Thomas.

"I know," I sighed, turning in my chair until I faced the window behind me. The city was roaring with people below, an epitome of the stereotypical American life, business men and women running in a hurry. Their bodies were clad with the armor of negotiations, suits and ties perfectly ironed, lips painted in crimson red.

In the corner of my eyes, I saw a couple, sharing ice cream together, their lips howling with laughter.

I envied them.

If I could give Tasneem that type of happiness in life would be a miracle. I wasn't a man with time to spare. Every hour, every minute, every second was weighted with ambitions and success. The road to contentment was never easy, but it was work that had to be done. The burden rested on my shoulders, depending on my every action, my every decision, my every word.

"We have hundreds and thousands of people counting on our leadership," I whispered, staring at the bustling noise below. Sometimes the busy atmosphere made people lost to themselves. "They have families to take care of. If taking a break screws all that up, I won't ever forgive myself."

A hand squeezed my shoulder. "We're a team, Ibrahim. You don't have to take the burdens of the company alone. You have a wife, a girl who's more than capable of helping you. You have your friends, people who care. You have a grandfather who offers advice to you. You're not alone."

I'd been victim to the acrimonious nature of loneliness, allowing the darkness to cloud over every aspect of my life, allowing the demons to lurk below the surface of dangerous tides. One wrong move would create a hurricane of disasters, each falling after another, no survivors, no solutions. That type of pressure was almost unbearable at times, but I wasn't alone anymore.

I had friends to lean on, a wife to love, a family to care for. They were enough to keep me grounded when I was snatched away by my own cruelty.

"Thanks, Thomas."

He smiled. "No problem, bro."

Turning back to my desk, I checked my next scheduled meeting. I gestured for Thomas to continue with his presentation, ignoring the pounding pain in my head, threatening to break my focus once again. I shook my head, not now.

With one last weary look in my direction, Thomas continued. "The Japanese investors seemed interested, and told me that they'd come back to finalize the details. The problem is that a new CEO has been bugging the hell out of me."

The mention of a new CEO perked my interest, my headache long forgotten. "New?" I questioned, raising a brow.

"Yeah, I believe he's trying to get to the top like you. He's from a wealthy family, however, his business tactics remind me of a high school student," he cringed.

I snorted. That's not a good sign for business especially if it comes from a secretary.

"I planned a meeting between the two of you directly," he paused, allowing me to drink in the new information. "He runs an underwear company for men, and has rapidly gained the title of a womanizer."

I groaned. "Those types of guys still exist? I thought most businessmen were old."

"They are with the exception of you and now him," commented Thomas before smirking. "I mean, technically, you look old from stress. I think I even see gray hairs."

"Don't give me a reason to murder you."

He gasped, feigning hurt. "I'm telling your wife."

"Thomas, focus."

Muttering under his breath from his lack of fun, he handed me a cream- colored file, letting the contents spray across my desk, and successfully ruining the clean slate of the oak desk.

"I just cleaned my office!" I exclaimed, annoyed that he ruined all my hardwork in a matter of seconds.

He shrugged. "No one ever said business was clean, especially the dirty bastard in the file."

"Thomas," I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose, "when will you realize that insulting affluent partners is damaging to our reputation?"

"I probably won't, but that's just my personal reputation."

I examined the file. Inside, there was a photo of a young man, probably in his early twenties, grinning at the camera. His eyes were a bright shade of ocean blue, gleaming with delight as the photo snapped. Skin as white as snow and a nose that was long and elegant, followed by dirty blonde hair.

Narrowing my eyes, I felt the tremors of qualm gracing my judgement. He came from wealth, a man who was sheltered and privileged, a man who never lived in darkness.

Something about him felt odd, familiar in a way. It was in his eyes. They were as blue as a clear sky, but cloudy enough to hide something else, perhaps a dark secret.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"That's Jared Gavlik, new CEO of G-Wear."

Gavlik. A Russian surname.

Elegance like that came from the most privileged milieus. The man certainly had the distinctive features of the top Russian family, however, I was unaware that their underwear company planted its roots in America.

"Since when did Director Gavlik let his son expand the family business?" I questioned, amused at the young boy's attempt at popularity. "Did he really think it would be that easy to make it as an underwear company in America?"

Thomas cracked a smile. "He probably thought everyone would be on their knees for his partnership proposals."

Dropping the file on my desk, I asked, "What does he want with our business?"

"I'm assuming he wants to monopolize us."

I froze. "He's a threat then."

"Not yet," said Thomas, lowly in case anyone was overhearing our conversation. "But he knows that you're under massive scrutiny because of your birth."

I chuckled, leaning my cheek against the palm of my hand. "And he thinks being a Russian during a political investigation involving Russia is going to help his case? Tell me you're joking."

"He wants our business, Ibrahim. That man is dangerous. He's already taken down Germany's and India's wealthiest textile companies. He convinced Saudi Arabian businessmen to take part in his proposal regarding their oil industries," informed Thomas, blue eyes wide with fear. "He wants more."

"There's something that he's trying to accomplish here. An oil industry has nothing to do with underwear and neither does our steels," I argued, crossing my arms over my chest.

Thomas shook his head. "You don't get it. He's no longer expanding. He's trying to own your business. India and Germany were to expand G-Wear, but if he controls an oil and steel company, he'd be unstoppable. The amount of wealth and fame he could acquire would be insane!"

A dark shadow cast across my face, and I gently tapped my fingers against the oak desk, feeling the smooth surface rub against my coarse fingertips. A small smile spread across my lips. Gavlik was testing my patience.

"It seems like he's trying to play a game with us, don't you agree, Thomas?" I asked slowly, my tone calm.

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "What are you playing at?"

"Deception is a strong tactic in business, but it's honesty that always prevails. He can't get away with monopolizing big corporations."

"Ibrahim! We have to be cautious. He knows how to manipulate his way through these deals. He's taken over so much in such a short amount of time!" exclaimed Thomas, visibly distressed.

"He hasn't met me."

Thomas met my hard gaze. "I guess that means I confirm the meeting."

"When does he want to meet?" I asked, picking up my pen.

"In a couple hours."

I glanced at the photo again, wondering if the decision I was making was right. I wasn't a coward, and I wouldn't let this little Russian boy manipulate me into giving away my business.

My blood, sweat, and tears had built the walls of Tarkan Industries, supervising over every small detail. I tried my best to make sure every employee was satisfied with their salary and workload because they were the ones who made every solution fit into the puzzle of problems.

Jared Gavlik played a dangerous game of cat and mouse, messing with the wrong people, using connections against me if it ensured his victory, but he failed to realize the determination I carried with my leadership. Being criticized by a young man, who was blinded by greed, was nothing I couldn't handle.

Afterall, his ego would be his downfall.

* * * *

Knock Knock.

"Open the door," I commanded.

Hesitantly, Thomas stood up, walking across the room, and pulling the handle. As his blue eyes met the visitors, Thomas tensed. His face becoming pale. Fear was a consuming force, one that bit into the weak until they were left begging for an end, a finale to their dramatics. I, however, was not as easily swayed by the past of another man.

Two tall men in red velvet suits walked in. The first was the man that Thomas shivered in the presence of. Familiar icy blue eyes met mine, void of any sympathy for the destruction that laid behind him. He wanted to destroy Tarkan Industries, his lips curling into a wide smile that didn't reach his eyes.

His blonde hair was swept back, a small stubble grazing the bottom of his chin. Behind him was his secretary, a few inches shorter than Jared. He seemed anxious, brown eyes widening at the sight of my expressionless face. Small sweat beads lined the edge of his jaw, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the unprofessional attitude.

"N-Nice to meet you, Mr-" started the secretary, bowing his head slightly in respect.

"Don't bow to me."

He straightened, lips pressed in a firm line as a bright blush covered his cheeks.

Jared shook his head, amused, outstretching his hand to me. "Hello, Mr. Tarkan, I'm Jared Gavlik, new CEO of G-Wear. This is my secretary Viktor Egorov," he smiled.

I stared at his head, not bothering to shake hands. "Have a seat," I said, keeping my face void of any pleasant emotions.

Reluctantly, they did. Viktor pulled out a notebook and pen, preparing to keep track of all the progress from the meeting. His wavy brown hair fell over his eyes, attempting to not be noticed. Meanwhile, Jared kept the cocky expression on his face like a painting of deception.

Jared straightened his tie, noticing my glare. "You don't talk much, do you?" he asked.

Thomas cleared his throat, standing beside my chair. "That's not a proper way to address the CEO of Tarkan Industries," he scowled.

"Oh?" chuckled Jared. "May I remind you that we're equals in the world of business?"

"Cut to the point of this meeting," I demanded. "I have no time to waste on pleasantries."

"Well, I've researched you for a while, Mr. Tarkan. It's very impressive that a twenty-three year old businessman was able to expand his company across most of the nation."

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against my chair. Great, he's a suck up, I thought.

"I know your calculative nature and I'm here to assure you that I am not naive to your tactics. If we merge our companies together-" he began, excitedly.

I put a hand up to stop him. "No."

"What?" he questioned, eyes narrowing.

"I am not interested in a partnership," I replied.

His jaw clenched. "Think of the benefits! Soon, people will no longer look towards steel. You must have other products to sell, if not, then your business is destined for failure," he fiercely argued.

"Mr. Gavlik, what does steel and underwear have in common?" I asked, slowly letting my words sink into the new CEO. Viktor gulped, glancing between Thomas and I as we both stared them down with harsh glares that were sharp enough to kill, however it didn't seem to affect Jared. "There is nothing in common between the two, which leaves one alternative on the table."

Jared raised a brow at me, blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "Do tell, Mr. Tarkan."

"You want my business," I flatly stated.

He smiled. "They don't lie when they say you're a devious businessman."

"You're not having it," I growled.

"And who's going to stop me?" he taunted, leaning closer. A glint entered his cold blue eyes, reminding me of the evil I faced with my uncle."I have international resources that you don't have access to. Imagine the wealth that comes from a steel and oil company, all the profits would be mine."

My fists clenched under my desk. He was threatening me. "You're playing a dangerous game, Gavlik, a game you don't want to be a part of," I said menacingly.

"Try and stop me."