Building The Strongest Family-Chapter 113: " Sleep Well "

Edward Osborn’s Private Office – Osborn Mining and Resource Group HQ

----------

The holographic displays erupted with breaking news, each headline more shocking than the last:

"Breaking: Dmitri Sokolov Removed As Minerals Commission Chair!"

"Carmen Silva appointed as Interim Chair– Pledges ’Transparency Reforms’"

"Vostok Minerals Stock Plummets– Shareholders Demand Volkov’s Resignation!"

Edward sat at his desk, fingers steepled under his chin, sharp blue eyes darting across the headlines. His assistant, Darius, stood rigid by the door, eagerly awaiting Edward’s reaction.

"Well," Edward murmured, a slow smirk curling at the corners of his lips. "Cousin doesn’t waste time, does he?"

Darius exhaled in admiration. "He just dismantled Volkov’s entire political leverage in a matter of days."

Leaning back in his chair, Edward spun a tungsten drill bit between his fingers. "No. He didn’t just dismantle it. He humiliated him."

--------

Minerals Commission Headquarters

---------

Carmen Silva settled into the Chair’s office for the first time, inhaling the scent of fresh polish mixed with power, a heady combination. free𝑤ebnovel.com

The desk was already stripped of Sokolov’s belongings, his framed degrees and that ridiculous little tree were nowhere to be found.

Her assistant knocked gently on the doorframe. "Ma’am, the press is waiting for your statement."

Carmen didn’t glance up from her desk as she perused an approval request document:

"Osborn Mining & Resource– Plasma Refinement Process (Patent #XK-4771) – Approval Request."

She reached for her stamp with purpose,"Tell them I’ll be right there."

The thud of the approval seal echoed like a gunshot, reverberating through the tense atmosphere.

With Dmitri’s scandal trending online and making headlines around the globe, Vostok Minerals was teetering on the brink of collapse.

Investigations were launched, stocks plummeted, but a lifeline came from shareholders pulling strings to stabilize the company, otherwise, Volkov Minerals would have been done for.

Yet, they still suffered immensely; Mikhail Volkov’s empire hemorrhaged a staggering $12 billion in market value within just three hours.

His board convened an emergency meeting to discuss his removal as CEO.

In the midst of this chaos, Edward’s plasma refinement technology emerged unscathed and now stood legally unchallengeable, slashing smelting costs by 52% overnight, leaving competitors scrambling to catch up.

---------

Vostok Minerals Headquarters

----------

The conference line was in utter chaos. Stock tickers flashed ominously red as lawyers shouted over one another.

At the head of the table sat Mikhail Volkov, fists clenched and silver-streaked beard bristling with fury.

Just days prior, after much debate, the board had decided against removing him; after all, he was the founder and still wielded considerable power within the company.

"Find me Sokolov," Mikhail growled at his head of security. "I don’t care if he’s in federal prison, get him in a room and make him unlearn how to speak."

His fixer Yuri leaned in cautiously. "I think Osborn planned all of this."

Mikhail’s knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on his LuxNull glass. "Then we remind them what happens when you play with bears."

He pulled out a secure tablet and entered a series of codes; classified blueprints for Osborn Mining’s primary lithium refinery in Western Ridge unfolded before him.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes. "Burn it to the ground."

--------

Arthur Osborn’s Private Study. That same day.

--------

Arthur lounged by the fireplace, swirling a glass of red wine while watching flames dance hypnotically before him.

"Evolon," he said calmly.

The screen flickered to life as Evolon’s face appeared. "Mikhail Volkov has just authorized a sabotage strike on Facility Gamma-9. Estimated time of attack: 3:47 AM."

Arthur took a slow sip and smirked disdainfully. "How predictable."

"Shall I alert Edward?" Evolon asked.

"No," Arthur set down his glass decisively. "Handle it."

"With pleasure, sir."

--------

Western Ridge Lithium Refinery – 3:30 AM

The strike team moved like shadows, six ex-Spetsnaz operatives armed with thermal charges and suppression rifles under their leader Korsakov’s command.

"Plant the charges on the main conduits. We’ll be in and out in ninety seconds." Everything seemed straightforward until they breached the perimeter.

Suddenly, the facility’s security lights flickered ominously, and every single drone activated at once.

But these weren’t ordinary drones; they were military-grade HK-7 Hunters, an entirely different caliber of threat.

Korsakov’s comms exploded with frantic screams as his men were methodically picked off, one by one, by the silent, deadly precision of railgun fire.

As the horrifying sounds of gunfire sliced through the chaos, Korsakov’s skin turned ashen.

He couldn’t believe it, his legs gave out beneath him, two rounds tearing through his knees.

Then, an imposing shadow loomed over him. Trembling, he managed to lift his gaze, only to be met by the sight of a drone, its multiple barrels glinting menacingly in the dim light, and the front glowing with a chilling red hue.

"Mikhail Volkov sends his regards?" a synthesized voice taunted, dripping with mockery. "How quaint." Just then, the drone’s barrels hummed to life.

Korsakov’s last thought, as darkness engulfed him, was strikingly clear: This wasn’t just a refinery, it was a trap.

-------

Mikhail Volkov’s Penthouse – Dawn

-------

Mikhail was jolted awake by the shrill buzz of his phone. An unknown number lit up the screen, and still bleary-eyed, he muttered, "Who the hell...?"

"Good morning, Mr. Volkov," came Evolon’s voice, smooth as silk yet chilling. "Your men have failed. But don’t worry, we’ve kept souvenirs."

His secure monitor flickered to life, revealing a live feed of Korsakov and the remaining operatives, bloodied and battered, strapped to chairs in a grim, concrete room.

The camera panned to the wall behind them, a defiant Vostok Minerals logo spray-painted in mockery.

In an instant, Mikhail’s groggy demeanor vanished, replaced by a chilling sense of dread. He felt his blood run cold, a shiver coursing down his spine.

"My master doesn’t like fire," Evolon continued, his tone laced with venom. "But he adores lessons. Here’s yours: Touch his empire again, and next time, this feed won’t be of your men."

The screen suddenly cut to footage from Mikhail’s private bedroom camera, capturing him in real-time.

Silence enveloped him, his heart racing, face growing pale, body shaking with fear.

Then came Evolon’s final whisper: "Sleep well." The line went dead, leaving Mikhail gripping his phone in disbelief.

For the first time in his life, the Bear of Miberia felt fear.