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CASTIEL'S REQUIEM

Capítulo 1: CHAPTER ONE: A WOMAN NAMED CASTIEL

Castiel Azrael Wellington gazed out from the penthouse office on the 165th floor, her eyes drinking in the breathtaking panorama of Dawn City. The ocean sparkled like a canvas of diamonds, while the cars below resembled tiny toys. From her vantage point, she surveyed her domain - the tallest building in the state, a symbol of her unparalleled success.

As the wealthiest woman on Earth, Castiel's net worth exceeded ten trillion dollars, surpassing even the richest man in the world. Her influence was unmatched, with ownership of ninety percent of Dawn City's businesses and significant stakes in fifty other cities across five continents. Her dominance extended to the stock market, where she held the largest shares. Castiel's power and wealth were unrivaled, making her the most formidable person on the planet.

"Miss Gianluigi!" Castiel's voice thundered across the office, causing her personal assistant, Amelia Gianluigi, to jump from her seat. "Yes, Ms. Wellington," Amelia replied, her voice trembling as she approached her boss.

Castiel's piercing gaze and arched brows demanded attention, her youthful appearance belied by her formidable presence. "My coffee?" she snapped, her fingers drumming impatiently on the desk.

Amelia scurried out of the room, fearful of incurring Castiel's wrath. Castiel's smirk hinted at her satisfaction with the dynamics of their relationship. Despite Amelia's five-year tenure, the longest of any assistant, Castiel knew her power and wasn't afraid to wield it.

The sudden blast of Jon Bellion's "Woke the Fuck Up" shattered the silence, and Castiel's gaze fell upon her Raven 14vq smartphone. She began to call Amelia but recalled her errand to fetch Castiel's favorite coffee. The pause in the music seemed to echo the tension in the office.

She picked up the phone and accepted the call with a frown on her face.

"Yes, Jonas, I've told you countless times not to bother me with unnecessary calls. I'm extremely busy at the moment," Castiel spoke in a tone that commanded attention.

The response from the phone was unintelligible, but Castiel's irritation was palpable. "Cancel it, Jonas! What am I paying you for? Get rid of them. There's always room for more profitable ventures."

With a dismissive tone, she ended the call. "Incompetent fool, I should fire him on the spot," she muttered, accepting the espresso from Amelia, who had returned just in time to catch the brunt of Castiel's frustration.

"Cancel all my appointments. We're heading to the shipping ports. Now," Castiel snapped her fingers, sending Amelia scrambling out of the room once again, barely able to catch her breath.

The situation was far more dire than Castiel had expected. A staggering five hundred and twenty six employees were protesting against meager salaries, and the admin manager's incompetence had allowed the situation to spiral out of control. The press had caught wind of the story, and like ravenous sharks, they circled the area, eager to capture a glimpse of the elusive Castiel Wellington.

A sleek, black limousine pulled up, and the reporters swarmed around it, cameras at the ready.

Castiel emerged, her blonde hair cropped close to her skull, accentuating her chiseled features. She wore a body-hugging black suit that exuded wealth and power, her piercing blue eyes hidden behind dark Ray-Ban sunglasses. Her very presence commanded attention, and the reporters clamored for a shot of the enigmatic billionaire.

Castiel, the embodiment of a dark goddess, strode confidently, her heels clicking on the pavement. Amelia, her harried assistant, scrambled to keep up, struggling with Castiel's black briefcase while dodging the flashing cameras of the relentless press. Though the photographers focused on Castiel, Amelia's bright attire and frantic movements inadvertently made her a peripheral fixture in the chaos.

"Miss Gianluigi, my phone," Castiel instructed, her voice low and commanding. Amelia hastily rummaged through the briefcase, producing the phone with a sense of relief. Castiel's snapping fingers beckoned Amelia closer, and she intuitively understood her role as a mouthpiece. With a nod, Amelia handed her the phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she typed out a message.

Amelia's clear voice rang out, "Ms. Wellington has agreed to a fifteen percent salary increase, effective immediately!" The protesting workers erupted into cheers, their faces alight with joy. As Amelia finished speaking, Castiel inclined her head slightly to the left, and Amelia caught the subtle gesture, nodding almost imperceptibly in response.

It was a silent language, honed from years of working together, a testament to their symbiotic understanding.

Amelia called out, "Dylan Burton!" Her voice echoed through the chaos, capturing the attention of a towering, bald man in his mid-forties. His lean, chiseled physique and intimidating gaze could easily mistake him for a professional wrestler or a gangster, if not for the hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Yes?" Burton replied cautiously, unsure if the summons came from Wellington herself or her assistant. Castiel's piercing gaze locked onto him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she asked, "You are the admin manager, yes?"

Burton's mind raced, wondering what this was leading to. Of course, he was the admin manager - what kind of question was this?

He nodded curtly, "Yes, ma'am," his eyes fixed on Castiel as she gestured with her hand, her fingers mimicking the shape of a gun.

Amelia's voice was firm and decisive, "You are fired." The confirmation was swift and merciless, leaving Burton's fate sealed. As Castiel turned to walk towards her custom-made Wellington limousine, Amelia followed closely behind, leaving the ousted admin manager to process his sudden dismissal.

Dylan Burton felt an overwhelming surge of anger, as if his world was crumbling around him. He had worked tirelessly to turn his life around, leaving the Mafia, changing his name, and graduating from business school, only to be brought down by Wellington's order, carried out by her loyal assistant, Amelia Gianluigi.

He felt betrayed, dedicating eight years of service only to lose everything. He had made mistakes, embezzling funds, but desperation had driven him to it. Now, without his honeywell position, he feared losing his family too. His wife, a beautiful woman, stayed with him only for his wealth, cheating on him openly. He loved her despite her infidelity, but her departure seemed inevitable. In a moment of desperation, he reached for his gun, a habit from his past life in Miami.

Dylan's anger boiled over, his gaze fixed intently on Amelia Gianluigi. He felt betrayed, and his mind raced with desperate thoughts. Castiel had given the order, but Gianluigi had been the one to deliver the blow. Wellington's tech protection made her untouchable, but Gianluigi was vulnerable. Dylan's thoughts were a jumbled mix of frustration and despair. With these thoughts on his mind, he pulled the trigger.

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