Power

“Synonymous with Corruption, Dominance, Control, and Aiden Anderson. The naïve want the power to change nations, the cynical want power for selfish gains. But I want it in the name of Revenge.”

The battle for power is never one without pawns, kings, and queens. But after all, the only way to have power is to take it.

Iris Adaline is dauntless.

When she is assigned to write her first story on Aiden Anderson, it ignites a flame in her that will only be extinguished after seeing every part of his empire collapse. She had the perfect plan. Gain his trust, expose his secrets, then see him fall.

Aiden Anderson liked control.

When he first laid his eyes on Iris Adaline, he knew exactly who she was. He knew her intentions, he knew her drive, and he knew the danger. But he couldn’t keep away. He was adamant on seeing her on her knees, begging for mercy, and begging for him.

Sparks fly when two determined forces collide in a battle of power, control, and desire.

There was no denying that on the high stakes battlefield in the world of fraud, exposés, and infatuation, there was no room for compromise. In the end only one could emerge victorious.

Either Aiden’s corporation would crumble into debris or Iris’s valor would smolder into ash.

The soft wind wisped tendrils of my hair out of my bun and carried it down to my shoulders. The midday new york weather wasn’t particularly cold, but the wind caused the hem of my blouse to continuously shift out of place with every step.

Bustling energy filled me as I entered the glass doors of the New York Times headquarters. People in professional attire were scampering around the large lobby, all filled with determination and purpose.

"Coffee girl!" My colleague yelled across the hall, shaking me out of my muse. "Good to see you. Make yourself useful and get me the usual! And where's my editorial layout? I need it by 3 o'clock today."

“Damnit Jonathan, just because I am an intern doesn’t mean you have to treat me like one!” I arrived no longer than five minutes ago and was already assigned two meaningless tasks.

When I was able to get an internship at the prestigious New York Times I assumed my job would entail listening in on briefs, interviewing national leaders, or at the very least, writing. But instead, I’m stuck with the job of picking up everyone's food and supplies. Since I've been here I haven't done a single thing related to journalism.

This place had everything I could have asked for. An office in uptown manhattan, influential co-workers, decent pay, except an opportunity to write. My idealization of the adrenaline filled life of New York had hit a major road block. My eyes rolled up into my head and I let out a sigh of frustration.

"Adaline!" The same shrill voice screeched. “Mr. Rodgers wants to see you. I'll miss you!"

The chaotic floor went silent. All the journalists and researchers stared at me with wide-eyed curiosity. The only sound was the echo of my high heels. No one left Mr. Rodger without bad news, he was the head of the company after all.

I take a last glance at my little office, which was really just a old storage room converted into a dusty old room. It wasn't anything desirable but it was earned, and I was planning on working my way to the top. With all the courage and dignity I could have mustered I enter his office, ready to defend my honor.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Take a seat, Iris." He stated intently.

His expansive office was in the secluded part of the building. The walls and floors were mahogany, reaching a modest height. The traditional design of his office was a stark contrast to the flashing stock market monitors and presentation screens dispersed throughout the rest of the floor. There had been papers and reports stacked in piles so high I was surprised they didn't fall over his desk.

He was in a perfectly tailored crisp navy suit and examined me with deep brown eyes, looking up and down. His scrutiny and tall stature made me slightly nervous. My supervisor did not look away when I tried to avert my gaze, leaving me unsure of how to respond.

"As you know, the New York Times is a publication with international influence..." He began, clearing his throat and turning away. "I must say, your resume was quite impressive. You've written opinion articles before, graduated top of your class, and excelled in our mock interview."

"What's your point?" I challenge with narrowed hazel eyes, "Why then are you firing me?"

He lets out a slight chuckle, and leaned in a little too close. "I'm not firing you. I'm giving you your first major news story." His voice lingers for a bit like frost in the air, and his tense eyes calculate my every physiological reaction. My boss’ jaw strains for a bit, and his adam’s apple becomes prominent when he searches my face for a response.

Inside my heart was pounding in disbelief. This was the chance every journalist wanted, to have the head of a media corporation personally give you a chance to write!

"You will not be disappointed, Mr. Rodgers. What's the story on? Foreign policy? Economics?" To my distaste, my voice gave away the clear excitement.

"You will be interviewing an influential person... Aiden Anderson." A sly smile crept on his face.

There was an expression on his face that I could not understand. It was a cross between satisfaction and determination. Something's off. His expression, the suddenness, the circumstances, none of it adds up.

Out of all the journalists here why ask an intern?

"What's the catch?" I ask in a neutral tone. An ambiance of tension has set over the room. I feel small in the presence of my supervisor, who has now taken away all my confidence by simply uttering Aiden’s name.

He smiles to himself and raises an eyebrow at me. "You really are a sharp one. The contents of this interview are for me to worry about."

I decide to not push my luck on my first assignment and hesitantly agree.

"Great. You're scheduled for tomorrow." He responds quickly, finally getting a resolution. "And Iris; Just call me Damon."

~

In the city that never sleeps, tonight had an ambiance of comforting silence. There were little lights, no taxis, no drunk college students (been there, done that). The city had been cloaked in velvet solitude. When I unlock my apartment door, I find my roommate Jasmine curled up in pj's watching The Bachelor.

"Goddamnit Angela, GROW A SPINE!" Jasmine screams at the television. I don't think my roommate has grasped the concept that people on a screen can't hear you. When she sees my wide-eyed and horrified face she turns off the television to face me.

"So what did you do at work today?" Jasmine smiles.

"It was... interesting. I got my first actual assignment, I'm interviewing Aiden Anderson tomorrow."

Jasmine drops her ice cream onto the carpet I just vacuumed. Her jaw drops open in astonishment. "Congratulations!" She tackles me in a hug, "You know... He is hot and rich, it wouldn't be a bad idea to get a piece of that pie."

"You're crazy, Jasmine." I strain a smile, "it's getting late, I'm going to bed."

"Hells yeah you are. You'll be going to bed with Aiden tomorrow too," Jasmine winks.

Every time Aiden comes into my mind bile rises in my throat. Anderson Enterprises had been in my life for as long as I can remember, and my hatred of them burns for just as long. Fifteen years ago my father had been paralyzed in a mining accident.

He worked for Anderson Enterprises.

Not only did Anderson Enterprises refuse to pay for our hospital fees, but instead sued us back for defamation. Granted it was Aiden's father who had been CEO at the time but there was no reason to believe his son would be different.

To a six-year-old, there was so much frustration. Ever since then I promised myself that I would fight against injustice whenever I could. A wave of nausea hit me as I thought about this disgusting person.

They told me that no one could do anything about corruption, about powerful people. But the reason I became a journalist was to protect the innocent people greedy corporations, to at least try to protect others from the same fate.

I knew what I had to do -- expose Anderson, by all means necessary.

~

The sun rose as I finished preparing the questions. They started off as typical interview questions, but if all went well he'd confess by the end.

The entire taxi ride I replayed different scenarios in my mind, mentally preparing myself for anything. Not after long I'd arrived. Taking a deep breath I faced the towering skyscraper. It shone brightly, reflecting the bright sunlight with large glass windows, it was among the most modern buildings in all of New York. People weaved in and out of the building. Some were crying, some were in deep discussion, and some were just taking pictures.

Above the marble steps, there was a stone carving reading "Anderson Enterprises".

Clutching my recorder and notes in determination I walk up the steps and force the glass doors open. Two elevators and seventy floors later, I arrive at Aiden's office. The floors were white marble and the walls were all glass panels. There was a large but empty corridor leading to his office. The two grand doors consisted of polished redwood with two brass handles. More than anything it looked like an observation deck.

With a mask of confidence, I push open the heavy doors.

His steel gray eyes clashed with my hazel ones. I felt cold and unmoved. After all these years, we finally met face to face.

"Shall we begin Ms. Adaline?" He asked, smirking. "Or are you just going to stare?"

"Trust me, Mr. Anderson." I smile, "I've been waiting long enough."

He first gestures for me to take a seat on the black sofa chair across from him and then sits in an identical chair. Aiden's eyes follow my every move as I enter. I can't tell if the purpose is to examine the situation or... something more. To take control of the room again I begin to interview him.

  "Mr. Anderson, what is success to you?"

  "Really Miss. Adaline?" He unbuttons his blazer and shakes his head in a disapproving manner. "Tell me the rest of this interview is not this rudimentary. I've read your resume, you're smart. Ask me a more interesting question."

   I raise my eyebrow at him and shift through my basic questions.

  "Pleasure. What are some things you enjoy doing outside of business?"

  "Strike two. Let's play a game." He leans back in his chair and smiles at my frustration. A more amusing, even mischievous expression came over his face. "Every time you ask a horrible question I will ask one of you."

   "You are aware that this interview is all recorded right?" I assert, gaping at his blatant unprofessionalism.

  "Then you better start asking some good questions or else your supervisors will hear some dirty confessions."

~

   Every time I try to take control he throws me off. Nothing in any class has prepared me for the arrogant excuse for a human that is Aiden Anderson. I discard my notes under the seat to try to fight the red rushing to my face. I was determined to win his little game and wipe off his smug expression.

   I analyzed his every move to determine the best course of action. His steel eyes were still locked on mine. I studied his frame, tall, well built. He had dark brown hair which was a stark contrast to his gray-blue eyes. His lips were pressed against each other and tugged up as he leaned back into his seat.

  His steel dance across my body and he too is evaluating my every breath. We both sense a battle for dominance in this atmosphere, and there was no way in hell he was going to win.

  "Have you ever engaged in tax evasion?" I question with narrowed eyes.

   "I'm a billionaire. You and I both know the answer to that question." He walks closer to me and leans against his desk. "My turn. What's the craziest thing you've done in college?"

  The sun gleams on his perfectly fitting suit and tie. I've never felt this powerless, this subject to manipulation. Is he flirting with me? What kind of interview was this Remain calm,  What kind of interview was this? Remain calm, I tell myself. Remember that your goal is to expose him for the asshat that he is.

   "I've once egged my sociology professor's house, that's the craziest thing I've done. Are there any future plans for expansion for Anderson Enterprises?"

   "That's a better question. I can't tell you everything, but I will say that we are planning on expanding to China,” he says, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

  "That's the worst business plan I've ever heard," I laugh, "I'm going to save you a couple billion right now. Expand into Japan instead."

   He's finally appalled by me. The tides have turned. For a slight moment he no longer has control, and that was the opportunity I needed all along.

  "What do you mean?" He injects, crossing his arms.

  "It's basic foreign policy. China and Russia have a secure energy deal. With military influence withdrawing in Japan, the United States has an economic and diplomatic need for your oil company to expand into first Okinawa then the rest of Japan. Subsidies, OPEC approval, and the UN support will all ensue."

  Clearly taken aback, he studies me and my proposition. But suddenly his assistant enters the room. "Sir you have a meeting in ten minutes." She states, nervously fidgeting.

  "Cancel it. And whoever suggested expanding into China is now fired," he demands, without looking away from me. She quickly exits the room in a more distraught state than when she entered. Perhaps it had been her first day working for this horrible person. Poor girl.

  "You intrigue me." Aiden begins, pacing deep in thought along his glass walls behind his desk. Granted his office was beautiful, it was modern, and there were skyscrapers surrounding his building. Other than the sleek piano to the right of the room it was otherwise empty. Taking the sliver of an opportunity his confusion had given me, I go on the offense to expose him. With confidence, I walk up to the large windows to join him.

  This would be my only chance.

~

  "Do you ever feel responsible for the actions of your father?" I ask in an authoritative tone.

  He stops pacing and turns around to face me. Aiden walks slowly towards me, and I back up, suddenly unsure if I underestimated his control. My back hits the wall and his tall frame traps me between his two arms. My breathing shallows and my face becomes flushed when I realize I can't move.

  "I don't know who you think you are or what you are trying to do, but I am Aiden Anderson. I suggest that you just submit to me because I will always remain in control. Sweetheart, I will destroy you if necessary. " He snakes an arm around my waist and roughly pulls me against him. For a while his breath lingers against my neck, making my skin rise.

  "What the hell?" I scream at him, "this was supposed to be professional!" I abruptly push away from him with force. His eyes trail up and down my body in amusement, now making me feel very exposed.

  "You've got to always keep your opponents guessing, Miss Adaline. And examine them. Very closely." His chuckles to himself when he sees me tense at the words "very closely".

  "I didn't get enough for my article," I admit in defeat, refusing to make eye contact. He had won today, almost always one step ahead. I'd somehow fallen victim to his strange tactics of manipulation.

  "I know you didn't get enough. This means you've got to come back later for more."