Richard stood there, silently fuming, as Dominic’s words echoed in his mind. His heart pounded with frustration, but he tried his best to maintain his composure. The room felt suffocating, as if the air was thick with the tension between them. Dominic, with his usual air of arrogance, had come in like a storm, surrounded by his entourage. Richard, standing alone, felt a wave of isolation wash over him, but he refused to let it show. He could feel the weight of their judgment, their eyes narrowing in on him, and yet he kept his chin up, resolute. He would not let them provoke him.The receptionist’s rude tone still lingered in his mind, adding to the mounting frustration. Richard glanced over at her, but she had already turned away, attending to Dominic and his group. The secretary, who had appeared with her cold, indifferent smile, led Dominic and the others away. Richard, despite his outward calm, couldn’t help but feel a tightening in his chest as he watched them walk toward the meet

The secretary was quick to act upon the manager's instructions, and her demeanor shifted dramatically. Gone was the polite, professional woman who had greeted Dominic and his team; in her place stood someone with a steely resolve, determined to carry out her orders without hesitation."I’ve received explicit instructions to have you and your team removed from my office and the premises of the company," the secretary said, her voice cold and unwavering.Dominic, taken aback by the abrupt change in her tone, stared at her in disbelief. His mind raced, struggling to reconcile this moment with the cordial relationship he had always believed existed between the Prescott Empire and the Apex company. He had heard about the close ties between the two, and now, to be dismissed so curtly—without explanation—was almost too much to process.“Are you serious? Do you have any idea who I am? The Prescott Empire has always had a strong connection with Apex, and you’re telling me you’re going to throw

The next day, Richard sat down at his desk, eager to check his account. He was hoping to catch up on some messages and plan his next steps. However, when he tried to log in, something strange happened. His heart sank as the screen displayed the dreaded error message—“Access Denied.”“What the hell?” Richard muttered under his breath, repeatedly entering his username and password, only to get the same response each time. He couldn’t believe it. His account, the one he had so carefully cultivated under the alias of the “Golden Boy,” was inaccessible.“My account has been hacked!” Richard screamed, his voice a mixture of frustration and panic.His mind raced as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. The account he had used to help others, and in the process, protect his identity, was now in the hands of a complete stranger. Richard couldn’t afford to tell anyone—especially Oliver or Charles. If they found out, his carefully crafted persona would be ruined, and the truth would spil

As the group of young men approached the table where Christabel and the man claiming to be the golden boy sat, tension filled the air. Christabel watched in confusion as Thomas, the leader of the group, locked eyes with the man sitting across from her."Are you really the golden boy?" Thomas asked, his voice laced with skepticism.The young man, trying to hold his composure but failing to mask his nervousness, hesitated for a moment. He glanced at Christabel, who was oblivious to the brewing storm, and then nodded quickly, attempting to sound confident. "Yes, I am the golden boy. What help can I offer to you?" he said, though his voice quivered slightly.Thomas's face twisted into a smirk as his suspicions were confirmed. He had been tracking the golden boy for weeks, watching him gain attention from the women at Willowbrook University, especially Christabel. Jealousy flared within him, especially since the golden boy had even managed to capture his girlfriend’s attention. He had made

Barry’s decision to refuse medical help was rooted in more than just pride—it was a matter of survival, or at least of maintaining the illusion of being the Golden Boy. He was terrified that going to the hospital would not only expose his injuries but also his ruse. After all, what kind of lavish spender would be unable to pay for a hospital bill? The whole point of his persona was to maintain an image of wealth, one that was fragile and could easily crumble if anyone saw the cracks.The designer clothes he wore—rented for the occasion—had cost him nearly all his savings just to pull off a convincing appearance. The thought of paying an extra f*e for not returning them on time was unbearable. He could barely afford the deposit, and the added charges would push him further into financial ruin. At this point, his carefully crafted image was all he had left.“I’ll be fine, Christabel,” Barry insisted, his voice weak but persistent. “I just need to get to something urgent. I’ll be good. We