4. Dario
4
DARIO
“ T oday, we need to discuss our upcoming launch of the new electric SUV. This model is designed to combine luxury and efficiency, and I want to ensure we position it effectively in the market.”
The sharp click of my watch echoes in the quiet of my office as I place my hands on the table and glance around. My business partners sit across from me. My business partners are seated across from me: Tom, the anxious finance guy; Lisa, the astute marketing director; and Marco, the head of operations.
Sunlight streams through the large windows, casting a bright glow over the room. The air is thick with the kind of tension I’m used to. Despite having worked together for more than a year on this project, I can still smell their anxiety whenever they’re in my presence—it’s palpable, lingering scent of cheap perfume, that refuses to dissipate.
Tom shifts nervously in his seat, adjusting his glasses. “We’re projecting a 15% increase in sales, but we’ll need to adjust our marketing budget to achieve that.”
His hands tremble slightly as he hands me a report detailing the figures.
I nod, scrolling through the report on his tablet. “How much are we allocating for the marketing campaign?”
“Approximately two million dollars,” Lisa replies confidently. She’s always been the most self-assured, or at least the best at masking her apprehension. “I believe we can make the most of that by focusing on social media and targeted ads. Our last campaign yielded great returns, and I’m confident we can replicate that success.”
“Social media is crucial,” I agree, leaning forward. “We need to generate excitement for the launch. While partnering with eco-friendly influencers can help spread the word quickly, we mustn’t lose sight of our primary targets—the elite.”
We’re not just launching an electric SUV; we’re creating an exclusive logistics service for the wealthy.
Tom leans forward, adjusting his glasses again. “What’s your vision for building that exclusivity? We need to differentiate ourselves from the competition.”
I nod. “First, let’s implement a limited membership model. We cap the number of clients and require an application process. This creates a sense of prestige, like being part of an elite club.”
Lisa’s eyes light up. “Marketing it as an exclusive service will resonate well. It’s not just about getting from point A to B; it’s about status.”
“I-I also think we should form partnerships with high-end brands—luxury hotels, upscale restaurants,” Tom says. “We can offer complimentary rides to exclusive events or discounts at partner establishments.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” I respond gruffly.
“Oh...it’s nothing,” Tom chuckles nervously, shifting in his seat before writing something down in his notes.
Marco, who has been quietly absorbing the conversation, speaks up.
“Is there a way to encourage current members to bring in new ones?” He asks, looking thoughtful.
“A referral program could work well,” Lisa chips in. “Existing members can invite others to apply, and we offer incentives like complimentary rides for successful referrals. It builds a community around our brand.
Tom raises a finger, and I hear the excitement in his voice. “What if we offer gated access to high-profile events? Members could have special drop-off points at galas or fashion shows, making them feel even more exclusive.”
Hums of agreement surround the table.
“One important thing,” my voice booms across the room. “We should engage with local charities. Positioning ourselves as socially responsible will appeal to the philanthropic nature of wealthy individuals. It enhances brand loyalty.”
They all note down the points I’ve made as I continue to speak, my voice hardening.
“We can’t afford any hiccups. I want you to coordinate with the suppliers and make sure they’re ready for the increased demand.”
“Sir?” Marco interjects. “What about competition? They’ve been aggressive lately, especially with their new line of hybrid vehicles. We need to stay ahead.”
Elysium Rides.
When I launched Stride, my elite logistics company, a little over a year ago, Lukas Braun, a prominent German businessman in Manhattan, quickly followed with his own venture. They tried to replicate the services Stride offers, bombarding the market with aggressive marketing and advertising campaigns.
But all they did was prove that they were a knock-off version of Stride, a cheaper alternative that people who craved the elite experience but couldn’t afford it went for.
I smirk. “Let them come. We have an edge they don’t. Our quality speaks for itself, and the technology we’re integrating is unmatched. Plus, they know that there are invincible lines that cannot be crossed.”
The implications hang in the air. The others exchange glances, and I can see the mix of fear and intrigue in their eyes.
Tom clears his throat again, ready to speak.
“I think we should also?—”
A loud commotion erupts outside the conference room door. Voices rise, sharp and urgent. “Let me in! I need to see him!”
“What the hell is going on out there?” I mutter in irritation.
“I need to see that bastard!” The voice booms, loud and clear.
The tension in their air thickens, and my fists clench as I relax into my seat.
“I’m sorry, but this meeting will have to continue some other time,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
Without sparing a second, they scramble to their feet and nod at me before leaving the room.
I call my secretary.
“Get whoever it is in here.”
Moments later, the door swings open, and Lorenzo Bianchi storms in, his face flush with rage. The atmosphere shifts instantly, thickening with tension. His presence is electric, crackling with anger. “Dario! You think you can just do whatever the fuck you want?”
Behind him, I spot Emily, my secretary, closing the door with a nervous expression on her face. She knows she’s in deep trouble.
“Lorenzo, what a pleasant surprise, seeing you in my office this early in the morning,” I chuckle, focusing my attention back on the man before me.
He’s now standing directly in front of my desk, with the large mahogany piece of furniture being the only thing separating him from me. Satisfaction rolls through me as he releases a low growl from his lips. Idly, I wonder idly if he would punch me if he could, or if he’s still the coward I remember.
“How dare you involve my sister in our issues?” he roars, his face now a deep shade of red.
I lean further into my seat, trying to remain calm as I watch him bang his fists against my table.
“You tried to kill Ginevra to make a stupid statement!” He continues, his voice getting louder at my lack of a response. “How could you bring her into this?”
I smirk, loving where this is going. “Kill? Why, now this is a very serious accusation to make, Lorenzo. Plus I think it’s quite too early such a commotion, don’t you think?” I keep my tone light, but the underlying tension is palpable.
His eyes flash as he leans into the table. “I saw the way you looked at her at the party. I’ve hidden her from you and this sick world all this while for a reason, but the moment you saw her, you decide she was the perfect pawn in your little revenge game!”
“Did you ever stop to think that I was looking at her because she looked so damn hot in that dress?” I snarl, a surge of satisfaction warming my spine at the mix of shock and fury in his eyes.
“She’s grown into a gorgeous woman,” I continue. “I’m sure everyone in that room wanted a piece of her—myself included.”
Lorenzo slams his palms against my table. “You bastard!”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I cut him off, my voice hardening. “I’ve indulged your theatrics long enough, and my patience for this disrespect is wearing thin. Did you ever consider that one of your enemies might be behind the attempt on your sister’s life? Maybe an old friend you stabbed in the back for your selfishness,” I continue, unfazed by his rage. “You’re quite good at making them, after all.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrow, his jaw tight. “Since you want to talk about stabbing in the back, let’s cut the games, Dario. I know you’re the one who supplied counterfeit goods to my company under a fake name.”
I can’t help but smirk, relishing the moment.
“Ah, that’s one I can’t deny. It’s one of the things that still pleases me to this day. One simple move brought an entire empire crumbling to the ground—literally.”
His eyes go red, his body almost shaking from the heavy emotions.
“Business is business, Lorenzo. You should know that by now.” I lean forward slightly, enjoying the way his anger radiates from him.
His temper flares, and he leans even closer; the distance between our faces is charged with unspoken threats. “Trying to harm my sister is crossing a line too far, Dario.”
My voice drops into a low growl. “You deserve every fucking thing that’s coming your way, Lorenzo. And I’m afraid, this is just the beginning.”
“You’re a sick and evil man. I regret having you as a friend.” His face contorts in disgust.
My anger flares. “Something we both agree on. Now get out.” I spit.
I see the thick emotion in his eyes as he glares at me for a short moment. Anger, pain, and a slight flicker of regret. But I don’t care. The misfortune of the Bianchis is one of the things I live for.
“This isn’t over.”
“Oh, it is. You’re lucky I’m letting you walk out of my office on two legs,” I hiss. “It’s the least I can do for my old friend.”
Lorenzo’s face burns with rage, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “I’ll never beg or be at your mercy, Dario. You’re mistaken. Stay the hell away from my sister.”
As he storms out, I feel a flicker of satisfaction. His anger is almost entertaining, like blood flowing through my veins. I watch him leave, the door slamming behind him, and the silence that follows is thick.
Once the room settles, I lean back, letting the memories wash over me. There was a time when I called Lorenzo a brother. We were inseparable, thick as thieves. Even though he was a year older than me, some people thought we were twins.
I saw him as my family—until he turned on me without a second thought.
The memory of his betrayal stirs something deep inside me, igniting old feelings of anger and resentment. I thought those emotions had been buried under the satisfaction that came with my revenge. But they were still there, and in times like this, they threatened to eat me whole.
This confrontation set the wheels in motion for phase two of my revenge. I would make Lorenzo pay for his betrayal, until I am both tired and satisfied. But until then, I need to find a way to see Ginny again. This game is far from over, and I intend to play it to the end.