Samuel Vernando leaned back in his ergonomic chair, his sharp eyes sweeping over the list of candidates displayed on the giant flatscreen on his office wall. One by one, unfamiliar faces disappeared with a swipe of his tablet. This recruitment process was more than just a talent search; it was a hunt.

"Next," he murmured to his assistant Clara, who stood with a similar tablet across the desk.

"This resume is quite strong, sir," Clara said, switching the digital file to the main screen. "Background from an independent studio, three critically successful titles. Programming skills specialized for our engine."

Samuel listened halfheartedly, his eyes sifting through the data. Good enough. But not brilliant. "Reject," he said flatly. "He's looking for comfort, not a challenge."

Clara nodded. They continued.

An hour passed with twelve rejected candidates. Samuel's office, with magnificent city views through glass walls, felt like a luxurious interrogation room. He was looking for something, someone, with a certain spark—the same fire that burned within him.

"Last one for this morning," Clara said, swiping her tablet. A new resume appeared.

The name struck him like a blow to the solar plexus. It couldn't be. He narrowed his eyes, reading again, certain it was a hallucination. But it was real. That name, the educational history he'd memorized, the seven years of work experience—all pointed to one person. The one who had haunted his thoughts, who had fueled him.

A sly smile spread across Samuel's face. "Call him in immediately. I want to meet him."

When the door opened and the applicant entered, it was like a deer trapped in a hunter's den. Samuel's lips curled into a thin, bloodless smile that didn't touch his eyes. Satisfied. Like a collector acquiring a long-sought piece.

"Seven years," Samuel said, voice dripping with mock nostalgia. "You've been busy." He didn't gesture to the chair or offer a hand.

The applicant's mouth went desert-dry. His mind screamed, trying to reconcile the boy who bullied him with this terrifying kingpin in a five-thousand-dollar suit.

Samuel's cold smile widened. "All me. Every brick. Every line of code. Every competitor crushed. Real power. The kind that doesn't ask permission."

He leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the obsidian desk—a subtly threatening move, a panther before a pounce.

"You took something from me. Emily." He spat the name like a curse. "You thought you'd humiliated me. You were a fool."

He straightened, walking around the desk with predator's grace, stopping inches from the applicant. The air grew colder.

"Emily was a liability. A vapid girl who talked too much. I was going to cut her loose anyway. You just expedited the process."

The revelation hit like a physical blow. His grand act of revenge had been a manipulated move in a game he didn't know he was playing.

"But you still took what was mine. In my world, that demands repayment. With ownership."

He reached out, straightening the applicant's tie, knuckles brushing his throat in silent threat.

"You need this job. I've made sure of it. Your debts, your mother's medical bills—you're one paycheck from ruin. So you'll take it. Senior Developer at SAM'S. Great salary, stock options, admiration. Everything you ever wanted."

He leaned in closer, voice a venomous promise.

"And in return, I will own you. Your talent, your time, your ambition—all mine. Welcome to SAM'S."