Mr. Hancock Beverly stepped forward, his presence enough to quiet the crowd and send a wave of disbelief over David’s smug expression.The reporters, who had been poised to soak up every word of David’s insults, turned their attention back to Oliver, their curiosity reignited.David’s face fell, his satisfaction rapidly replaced by shock and, behind it, a flicker of anger.Mr. Beverly kept his gaze firmly on Oliver, his eyes filled with something like pride."Oliver has shown more integrity, strength, and courage than most people I know. His background has nothing to do with who he is now—a man who just saved a life without a second thought."Then, turning to David, his expression hardened, and his voice took on an edge."It takes a far greater person to overcome adversity than to belittle others, don’t you think?"David opened his mouth as if to respond, but Mr. Beverly’s words weighed heavily on him. Under the intensity of that gaze, he found himself speechless, unable to summon any

"Tell me who did it!"Mr. Beverly’s voice thundered across the meeting room, his face flushed with anger.Just moments before the meeting was due to begin, Emerson King had arrived with a startling piece of news:The proposal submitted by Oliver intended for a future partnership with Starst Holdings, had been published as a project by a rival company, Atlas Forge Holdings.Emerson leaned forward, his expression serious, yet there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.“It's highly unlikely they’d suddenly produce an identical project with such precise detail to match Oliver's proposal. We’ve completed 90 percent of the groundwork, Mr. Beverly,” he said gravely, letting his words simmer as Beverly seethed in frustration.Mr. Beverly slammed his fist on the table."If this is true, Starst Holdings will be facing a huge loss. The preparation, resources—all for nothing!”Emerson folded his hands, his tone calm but edged with accusation.“Sir, if I may... Could it be that you think this

In the midst of the tense atmosphere in the lobby of Atlas Forge Holdings, a tall figure entered the room, exuding authority with every step. Vance Eastwood, the president of Atlas Forge, had arrived, and his sharp gaze swept across the lobby, taking in the scene with a cool, practiced detachment."Waylon," he called out, his voice calm but commanding, "what seems to be the issue here?"Waylon quickly straightened up, but his disdain for Oliver remained clear as he gestured dismissively toward him."This... fraudster," he sneered, "is trying to claim he has urgent business with you, Mr. Eastwood. Something about a proposal that we supposedly 'stole' from him."Waylon scoffed, emphasizing the absurdity of Oliver's claim. "As if someone like him would have anything worthy enough to propose to Atlas Forge."Oliver kept his composure, his face unyielding despite Waylon's attempts to undermine him."I'm not a fraudster," he replied firmly. "I’m here because of a proposal I submitted, one t

"You better kiss my feet and apologize for daring to threaten me," Vance sneered, punctuating his words with a sharp slap across Oliver's face.The sound echoed in the cold, dimly lit room, but Oliver remained composed, his calm eyes meeting Vance’s fiery gaze without flinching.A wry smile curled on Oliver's lips."I don’t kiss dogs’ feet," he said, his tone dripping with mockery.Oliver even chuckled, as if amused by the absurdity of the demand."You’re aiming a little too high, don’t you think?"The taunt made Vance's face darken with anger. Without hesitation, he slapped Oliver again, harder this time."Mock me one more time, and I’ll make sure it’s the last sound you ever make," Vance spat, leaning closer, his voice trembling with rage.Oliver turned his head back slowly, the red mark from the slap barely phasing his serene demeanor."If you’re done acting like a spoiled brat, let me warn you—stop touching me, or you’ll regret it."Vance laughed derisively, his voice echoing thro

"I didn't do anything.”Emerson stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to maintain his composure.Oliver’s calm yet piercing gaze met Emerson's. His face remained unreadable, save for the faint arch of his brow that carried a silent accusation."Didn't do anything?" Oliver asked quietly, his tone devoid of anger but laden with a calm, unnerving authority.Emerson shifted uncomfortably, sweat forming on his brow."I swear, Oliver, you’ve got it all wrong. I was just—""—just what?"Oliver interjected smoothly."Stealing proposals under someone else's name? Betraying the integrity of your position?"Emerson's mouth opened, but no sound came out.The weight of Oliver's calm demeanor was more suffocating than rage. Nero, who stood ominously behind Oliver, cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing ominously in the tense room."You see," Nero began, his deep voice filling the silence, "people like you always have excuses. I’ve dealt with hundreds like you. But tonight, Emerson, excuses wo