PK didn't sit. He walked to the head of the table, glanced at the ledger, and then looked at the three men.
"Four hundred crores," PK stated. It wasn't a question.
"Technically four hundred and twelve, after the final offshore accounts were swept," Silas said, his voice unusually formal. "We've never seen a liquidation this surgical, PK. You didn't just break him; you harvested him."
PK tapped his fingers on the table. The sound was like a heartbeat.
"Here is the distribution," PK began. "I'm taking two hundred crores. Cold cash. Move it into the PingMe reserve and my private trust."
The titans nodded. It was his right. He was the architect.
"As for the remaining two hundred crores..." PK paused, his eyes scanning their faces. "I'm splitting it. Silas, Hector, Henry—you each take sixty crores. A round number for a job well done."
The silence that followed was so heavy it felt physical.
Hector Vane's jaw actually dropped. Henry Law, a man who had negotiated billion-dollar deals for decades, felt his knees go weak. Silas Blackwell gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Sixty crores? Each? They had expected a commission, maybe a few percentage points, but this was a generational windfall delivered with a shrug.
"But that leaves twenty crores," Silas noted, his voice trembling with a mix of greed and confusion.
PK turned his gaze toward the corner of the room. "Riya has been the one validating every asset, tracing every hidden account, and ensuring Leonard didn't leave a single paisa behind. She did the heavy lifting while you three provided the names. The remaining twenty crores goes to Riya. Directly. Not as part of the Blackwell estate, but as her personal capital."
The room went into a second state of shock. Twenty crores. It was a staggering amount for a young woman to hold independently.
Riya felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She was used to being the "trusted heir" or the "assistant." No one had ever handed her a kingdom in her own name. She looked up at PK, her heart hammering. Under his intense gaze, her professional composure shattered. She looked away, her eyes shimmering with a deep, uncharacteristic shyness.
"PK... I was just doing my job," she whispered.
"And I'm just doing mine," PK replied. "I don't keep people around who don't grow. Consider this your soil, Riya. Let's see what you plant."
"But we aren't done," PK continued, his tone turning ice-cold. "The physical assets. The companies. If Leonard had any IT firms, software laboratories, or medical research centers... those are mine. Transfer the deeds to my name by Monday. For everything else—the real estate, the textile mills—you three can split them however you wish. I have no interest in old-world industries."
Henry Law let out a shaky breath. "The medical wing alone is worth another fifty crores... and you're just giving us the rest? The real estate portfolio is massive!"
"I said split it," PK repeated, his eyes flashing with a sudden, terrifying intensity that made Henry jump. "Do I look like a man who repeats himself for fun?"
"No! No, of course not!" Henry gasped, bowing his head instinctively.
The three titans stood in a row and bowed—a deep, respectful bow they usually reserved for heads of state. They were humbled. PK had generated a fortune in a weekend and tossed half of it away as if it were pocket change, buying their absolute loyalty forever.
PK checked his watch, the "demon" mask slipping for a second to reveal the bored student.
"Good. Get the paperwork done. I have a lot of shopping bags at the Manor that won't unpack themselves."
He turned and walked out. As he passed Riya, he murmured, "Don't spend it all on dresses, Riya. I need you sharp for what's coming next."
Riya bit her lip, her face burning a deep crimson as she watched him disappear. She clutched her tablet to her chest, feeling the twenty crores in her account like a heartbeat. The Titans were rich, but Riya knew the truth: they were all just planets orbiting a sun that burned far brighter than they ever could.