As Donovan's entourage basked in their newfound dominance, the atmosphere in the terminal shifted dramatically. The initial awe and curiosity from the other travelers quickly turned into fear. Donovan’s extravagant display of wealth had set a new tone, and the airline staff, eager to secure the promised extra cash, took their cues from him.Most of the travelers, already unsettled by Donovan’s grandiose show, found themselves stuck between a difficult choice and an even tougher one. Faced with the daunting presence of Donovan and the aggressive tactics of the staff, many reluctantly agreed to sell their first-class tickets. Whether driven by fear or tempted by the prospect of extra money, they complied with Donovan’s demands.The attendants, now fully immersed in their roles as enforcers, approached the remaining passengers with renewed intensity. Their previous polite demeanor had vanished, replaced by a more forceful and intimidating attitude. They bowed to Donovan with exaggerated

Bruce returned to the Tucsons' mansion, his face red with fury. "Meeky scammed me!" he bellowed, slamming his fist on the ornate wooden table, causing the silverware to rattle.The Tucsons, seated around the dining table, exchanged skeptical glances. "What are you talking about, Bruce?" Mr. Tucson asked, his voice calm and measured, though his eyes betrayed a hint of concern.Bruce's eyes blazed with anger. "I paid him ten thousand dollars to help me with my situation at the office. But instead of helping me, he made things worse! He's a fraud, a con artist! He promised me the world and delivered nothing!"Mrs. Tucson leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "That's quite a serious accusation. Tell us what happened in detail."Bruce took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling hands. His words tumbled out in a rush. "I went to Meeky, desperate for help. He promised to fix everything, to use his connections to get me out of trouble. He said he knew people who could make my problems dis

Bruce stormed into the office, his face flushed with anger. "I'm back, and I'm not leaving until I get my power back!" he bellowed, eyes blazing with fury.The security guards stiffened, recognizing Bruce's temper. "P-please, sir, calm down," one of them stuttered.Bruce sneered. "You're lucky I don't fire you on the spot. But I will, once I'm back in charge. You can count on it."The guards nodded hastily, stepping aside to let Bruce pass. He marched straight to the new boss's office, his heart pounding with rage. The hallway seemed to stretch forever, every step echoing his anger and frustration. He had built this company from the ground up, poured his blood, sweat, and tears into it. And now, to be usurped and humiliated was more than he could bear.Bursting into the new boss's office without knocking, Bruce's presence was a storm cloud of fury. The new boss, a composed and sharply dressed young man, looked up from his desk with a bemused expression. "Well, well, if it isn’t Bruce,

As they entered Mr. Carter’s office, the tension from the terminal seemed to linger in the air. The room was large but sparsely furnished, dominated by a heavy wooden desk and a few neatly arranged chairs. The decor was simple, with a large window letting in natural light but casting no real warmth over the space. Mr. Carter, his earlier swagger replaced by a nervous energy, motioned for Mark to take a seat.“Please, have a seat, sir,” Mr. Carter said to Mark, his voice dripping with respect. His eyes, however, wandered over to Justin, who remained standing by the door. “You can stand over there.”Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had been ready to let the misunderstanding slide, but this was a bridge too far. “Excuse me,” Mark said, his tone turning cold and authoritative, “but I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. This is Justin, my boss. You should be addressing him with the respect he deserves.”The manager’s face contorted in confusion, his earlier politeness now givin

The dimly lit room was filled with the echoes of Bruce's voice as he finished his long and painful recounting of events. The walls seemed to close in on him as he described the torment he had endured, painting a vivid picture of his recent suffering. His narration had been raw and detailed, recounting how he had been locked up once more by his former security officers, men he once trusted but who had now turned against him.Bruce's voice cracked with a mix of anger and despair as he recounted how, after being captured, he was beaten mercilessly until he begged for mercy. The brutality of the scene he described left little to the imagination, and the stark reality of his situation was evident. His hands, as he recounted, were bruised and had traces of blood on them, his body a canvas of pain inflicted by those he once employed.Lilly and her family, seated in their comfortable chairs, listened with a curious detachment. The atmosphere in the room was a stark contrast to the harrowing s