I Was Sent Into A Shitty Urban Novel

The boardroom at C&B had never felt this tense.

Jason leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, fingers steepled, gaze sweeping across the faces gathered before him. Daisy. Hendricks. Natalie. The senior staff from Eversage's labs. Even the former CEO of the company, now reduced to a consultant, sat silently at the far end. Every single one of them was waiting — for his words, his plan, his next move.

"Let's begin," Jason said finally, his voice calm but heavy. "I want updates. All of them."

Daisy cleared her throat first. "The moisturizer rollout has surpassed every forecast we had. We're at three times projected revenue within the first week alone. Waitlists are forming across the city. We've even had international distributors reach out to secure exclusive rights."

"Impressive," Jason said. "And the labs?"

The lead researcher, a woman with sharp glasses and sharper nerves, shifted in her seat. "We're maintaining quality control at scale, but there's pressure. Titan's been buying up chemical suppliers across the region. Three of our shipments were delayed last week. Two others were flagged for 'inspection' at customs."

Jason's gaze sharpened. "Malcolm."

There was a ripple of discomfort around the table. Everyone knew the name now — Malcolm Veyra. Titan Skincare's ruthless CEO. Once untouchable, now desperate. And desperate men were dangerous.

Hendricks spoke next. "It's not just supply chains. We've had distributors approached with under-the-table deals — promises of better terms if they cut us loose."

Jason's jaw tightened slightly, but his tone remained even. "How many bit?"

"None," Hendricks said. "They're not idiots. They know where the money's flowing."

Jason nodded slowly. "Good. But this is only the opening salvo. He's testing us. Probing for weaknesses."

Natalie leaned forward. "Then maybe it's time we hit back."

Jason raised a brow. "How?"

She hesitated. "Rumors. Information leaks. If Malcolm wants to play dirty, we can feed the market whispers — that Titan's new products cause skin damage, that they're cutting corners."

The old Eversage CEO frowned. "Dangerous move. If we're caught fabricating anything—"

Jason cut him off with a wave of his hand. "We don't fabricate. We don't need to. Titan's been cutting costs for years. Find the truth and amplify it."

Natalie's eyes lit up. "Already on it."

The conversation moved on — marketing strategies, production expansions, possible new product lines. But Jason's mind wasn't entirely in the room. He was already three steps ahead.

Malcolm was clawing at the edges of his empire, trying to find the face behind the curtain. He wouldn't stop until he had something — a name, a lead, a thread to pull. Jason had spent weeks erasing those threads, thanks in part to a mistake one of his estranged sisters had made when she'd tried to sabotage Eversage's legal filings. It had been a near disaster — one that forced him to bury his involvement deeper than ever.

But if Malcolm thought the trail ended with Natalie and Hendricks, he was welcome to chase ghosts.

"Jason," Daisy's voice pulled him back. "There's one more thing."

He turned his attention to her. "Go on."

"It's probably nothing, but…" She tapped at her tablet, bringing up a grainy security photo. "Two nights ago, a group tried to break into one of our secondary warehouses on the East End. They didn't get in — the alarms scared them off — but the way they moved, the gear they had… this wasn't some random smash-and-grab."

Jason studied the image. Black tactical gear. Coordinated formation. Not amateurs.

"Send this to our private security detail," he said. "And have them review all our facilities. I want surveillance upgraded and protocols tightened."

Daisy nodded. "Already on it."

Jason pushed back from the table and stood. "That's enough for today. Everyone, keep your departments airtight. Malcolm's coming, and I want him to find nothing but steel walls when he does."

The meeting dissolved into murmurs and movement. One by one, they filed out, until only Hendricks and Jason remained.

"You think he'll escalate?" Hendricks asked quietly.

Jason stared out the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city below. "I don't think. I know."

Later that night, Jason stood alone in his penthouse study. The rain hammered against the glass, streaking the skyline with silver. His reflection stared back at him — calm, unreadable, but beneath that stillness, a storm was brewing.

A soft chime drew his attention. A secure line was requesting connection. Jason accepted it.

"Mr. Yun," came a voice on the other end. "The task force you requested — they're assembled. Do you want them in place immediately?"

"Yes," Jason said. "Quietly. No noise, no mess. I want every eye watching Titan's moves. Their executives, their suppliers, their off-the-books dealings. Everything."

"Understood."

The call ended. Jason exhaled slowly, then turned back to the window.

Malcolm Veyra thought this was a war of products. It wasn't. It was a war of patience, precision, and leverage. And Jason had more of all three.

Across the city, in a towering skyscraper bathed in cold fluorescent light, Malcolm was losing his composure again.

"What do you mean the suppliers backed out?" he roared, slamming his fist into the conference table.

"They said the deal was too risky," one of his executives stammered. "They've had… offers. Better ones."

"From who?" Malcolm demanded.

"They didn't say, but—"

"But nothing!" Malcolm barked. "Do you think I don't know who's behind this? Every door that closes on Titan opens because he pushed it."

He stalked toward the massive window, staring down at the city that had once bowed to his will. It was slipping away from him. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. And all because of a company no one had even heard of half a year ago.

"Double the offers," he snapped. "Triple them. I don't care if we take a loss. I want those suppliers back under our thumb."

"Sir," his assistant said carefully, "if we keep bleeding like this, our shareholders—"

"Shareholders don't build empires," Malcolm snarled. "Fear does."

The room fell silent again.

For the first time in his career, Malcolm felt something cold slithering at the edge of his confidence — doubt. Whoever was behind Eversage wasn't just rich. They were calculating. Patient. Hidden. And that terrified him more than any name he could have put on a report.

He clenched his fists. "If I can't find them, I'll smoke them out."

Meanwhile, Jason sat at his desk, reviewing a series of encrypted reports. His counterintelligence network had already begun bearing fruit. He knew Malcolm was trying to choke their supply chains. He knew Titan had doubled its spending to claw back distributors. He even knew about the black-market brokers Malcolm had hired to dig for information.

And still, they were chasing shadows.

A small smile tugged at Jason's lips. Good. Let them chase.

But deep down, he also knew this was just the beginning. Malcolm was angry, but anger alone wouldn't break Eversage. He would adapt. He would plan. And eventually, he would strike harder.

Jason tapped a button on his console, pulling up a new document. At the top, a single word: Contingency.

Plans within plans. Layers within layers. Because if Malcolm wanted a war, Jason would give him one — but on his terms.

He leaned back in his chair, the city lights reflecting in his eyes like embers. "Let's see how far you're willing to go, Malcolm."