Vance didn't hesitate. He didn't ask why. In the brutal, hyper-efficient world of high finance, when a man who manages fifty billion dollars tells you to cut a string, you cut it immediately. "Consider it done, Mr. Duong. I will instruct legal to shred the draft instantly."
"Don't just cancel it, Harrison," Marcus continued, his eyes remaining locked on Trinh Vinh, whose smirk was beginning to flicker slightly under the unwavering intensity of Marcus’s gaze. "Terminate all current vendor relationships with Vinh Phat Logistics. Place them on our global black-list for supply chain operations. Ensure our partner networks in Singapore, Hong Kong, and Rotterdam are formally notified that doing business with Vinh Phat Logistics will jeopardize their primary contracts with Global Logistics Corp."
On the other end of the line, Vance felt a cold sweat break out across his brow. Such an order was effectively a financial execution. A regional shipping company blacklisted by Global Logistics Corp and its global network wouldn't just lose three hundred thousand dollars—they would lose their port access, their credit lines, and their maritime insurance policies within forty-eight hours.
"Understood, Mr. Duong," Vance replied crisply. "The blacklisting order will be logged into the international registry within five minutes. May I ask... is there a specific cause for this protocol?"
"The Managing Director of Vinh Phat Logistics, a Mr. Trinh Vinh, lacks the basic character required for ethical partnership," Marcus said calmly. "He lacks discipline, respect, and foresight."
"Say no more, sir. The company will be dismantled systematically from an operational standpoint. Is there anything else?"
"That will be all, Harrison. Have my car waiting at JFK."
"It will be there, Mr. Duong. Safe flight."
Marcus tapped the screen to end the call. He lowered the phone slowly and placed it back inside his charcoal jacket.
Trinh Vinh let out a loud, theatrical laugh, though the pitch of his voice was slightly higher than before. "What was that? What kind of ridiculous performance was that? 'Cancel the contract! Blacklist them!' Who do you think you are, an actor in a cheap television drama?"
Vinh took a step closer to Marcus, leaning in, his face contorted into a snarl. "You pulled out a black phone, spoke some English, and called a guy named Harrison? Do you know who Harrison Vance is? He is the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar American corporation! He wouldn't pick up the phone for your boss’s boss! You think you can intimidate me with a fake phone call?"
"It was not a fake phone call," Marcus said quietly.
"Shut up!" Vinh shouted, losing his composure as the sheer stillness of Marcus began to deeply unnerve him. "You’re a nobody! A pathetic, low-class peasant trying to play big shot because you managed to buy one first-class ticket! I’m going to make sure you pay for touching my wrist! Once we land in New York, my associates—"
Before Vinh could finish his sentence, the sharp, rapid ringing of an iPhone shattered the tension in the cabin.
complete silence fell over the first-class section.
concentrated in Vinh’s right pocket. The ringtone was distinctive—a custom high-priority chime reserved for only one person.
Vinh frowned, his brow furrowing as he pulled out his gold-cased iPhone. The screen flashed with the caller ID: FATHER (TRINH VAN PHAT).
Vinh sneered at Marcus. "Excuse me. My father is calling. Probably to tell me the contract payment has cleared. Then I’ll deal with you."
Vinh swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear, his voice instantly shifting into a performative, cheerful pitch. "Hello, Father? I’m just settling into my flight to New York. Everything is—"
"YOU FOOL! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
The scream from the receiver was so loud, so violent, that it echoed off the plastic panels of the airplane cabin, clearly audible to the purser, the flight attendants, and the surrounding passengers.
Vinh’s face drained of color instantaneously. "F-Father? What are you talking about?"
"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Trinh Van Phat roared, his voice cracking with pure, raw panic. "WHAT DID YOU DO ON THAT PLANE?!"
"I... I haven't done anything!" Vinh stammered, his confident posture collapsing into a frantic, trembling slump. "I’m in first class! There’s just some arrogant peasant trying to—"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" his father shrieked. "FIVE MINUTES AGO, GLOBAL LOGISTICS CORP TERMINATED OUR EXPANSION CONTRACT! THEY CANCELED OUR OPERATING LEASES IN HAIPHONG! OUR CREDIT LINES AT THE NATIONAL BANK WERE JUST FROZEN! THE COMMERCIAL BANK OF SINGAPORE CANCELLED OUR MARITIME INSURANCE!"
Vinh’s eyes widened in sheer, horror-stricken disbelief. The breath hitched in his throat. He staggered backward, his heels catching on the carpet as his back slammed against the wall of Suite 3B.
"No... no, that’s impossible," Vinh whispered, his voice trembling violently. "Father, that’s impossible! It was just a three-hundred-thousand-dollar contract, how could—"
"THEY BLACKLISTED US, YOU IDIOT!" Trinh Van Phat was weeping now, a broken, ruined man on the other end of the line. "EVERY SHIPPING PARTNER FROM TOKYO TO ROTTERDAM IS CANCELLING OUR SHIPS! WE ARE BANKRUPT! VINH PHAT LOGISTICS IS DEAD! WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHO DID YOU OFFEND?!"
Vinh’s phone slipped through his numb fingers, thUDDING heavily onto the plush carpet floor. The muffled, hysterical screams of his father continued to leak out from the tiny speaker, but Vinh couldn't hear them anymore.
His world had just collapsed in a matter of seconds.
Slowly, agonizingly, Vinh raised his eyes.