RICHARD'S POVAn hour later, I stood in the dimly Lit parking lot behind my office building, the cold night air biting at my skin. The sound of tires on wet asphalt signaled Gustavo's arrival. He pulled up in a nondescript sedan, the back door opening to reveal a man who looked far too relaxed for someone caught in the eye of a storm. Michael Derringer, the leaker, stepped out, a slight stumble in his step, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the dim lighting. He looked up, locking eyes with me, a flicker of recognition passing over his features before it was quickly masked by indifference. "Richard, huh?" His voice held a mocking tilt, the arrogance of his stance infuriating me further. "Why did you leak those false trash about me? And why lie about being arrested?" I asked, my voice calm but ice-cold.Michael smirked, leaning his back against the car. "Why does anyone do anything in this game? Money, Mr. Richard. It's always about the money." The simplicity of his answer, the
RICHARD'S POVI slammed the door behind me, the sound echoing through the empty hallways of my house. I could barely think straight, let alone figure out my next move. I couldn't believe the nerve of my former partner. How could he? How could Henderson sink so low?My mind churned with thoughts of retribution, every muscle in my body tense with the need for action. The smug bastard thought he could get away with ruining me, with dragging everything I had built through the mud. But he was sorely mistaken.I yanked off my tie and threw it on the couch, pacing the room like a caged animal. My first instinct was to call Jenny. She was my ally in this battle against deceit and treachery. Without pausing, I grabbed the phone from the hallway table and punched in Jenny's number with trembling fingers. I dialed it, my mind racing with plans and strategies to bring down my former partner. It rang once—twice—before she answered.“Jenny," I greeted tersely as she picked up the phone, my voice t
RICHARD'S POVThe cool, calculated air of the conference room was a stark contrast to the storm raging in my heart as I entered. The long, polished table was surrounded by familiar faces. At the head of the table sat the minister, Collins, his presence authoritative yet open. I was here for the business meeting which he had invited me to.Henderson Rhodes, my former partner, was already seated, his surprise at my arrival poorly masked by a quick, insincere smile. "Richard, glad you could join us," the minister greeted, still oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. "Thank you, Minister," I replied, nodding respectfully as I took my place. Henderson wasted no time. "Minister, I feel it's important to clarify that Richard and I are no longer in partnership. His presence here might be... misleading." The room tightened with whispered speculations, the air thick with sudden interest. The minister’s brows knitted in confusion. "Is that so? Richard, you were just discussing the pro
RICHARD'S POVWhen I arrived at the hotel, I was greeted with unexpected fanfare. My employees lined the lobby, clapping and cheering. Balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling, and a table was laden with gifts. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and for a moment, I allowed myself to bask in the glow of their admiration. I felt a swell of pride in my chest, knowing that my recent success was as much a victory for them as it was for me."Thank you, everyone," I said, raising my hands to quiet the crowd. "Your support means the world to me. Let's keep pushing forward and make this year the best one yet!" Their cheers grew louder, and a few of them even started chanting my name. Amidst the celebration, my gaze drifted to the back of the crowd where I spotted two of my staff—Mark and Lisa—standing apart from the rest. Their expressions were stern, their arms crossed, and there was a palpable tension emanating from them. Mark's jaw was clenched tightly, and Lisa's eyes bore into me with
RICHARD'S POVThe smoke still lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. The firefighters, their faces smeared with soot and sweat, were wrapping up, hoses coiling like exhausted serpents. My office, once the heart of my operations, now lay in ruins, charred and unrecognizable. The acrid scent of burnt paper and wood stung my nostrils, mingling with the bitter taste of dread in my mouth. "Mr. Richard, most of the documents are gone” a firefighter, his name tag reading 'Johnson,' said, his voice heavy with sympathy. "I'm sorry, man." I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. My mind raced, tallying the losses. Important documents, ownership rights, contracts—Amelia's former company was now in a precarious position. This wasn't just a fire; it was an attack. "Get the security team here," I managed to croak out, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. "I need to know how this happened." Minutes later, the security team assembled in the remnants of my
RICHARD'S POV I was still trying to salvage the files on my desk when my phone buzzed violently in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and saw the caller ID: Augustus Merrick, the manager of the real estate company where I bought my house from. I frowned, wondering why he'd be calling me at this hour. "Hello, Mr. Merrick," I answered, still half-focused on the stack of partially burnt papers in front of me. "Richard, your house is on fire! We've called the firefighters, but you need to get here right away!" His voice was frantic, every word dripping with urgency and panic. My heart skipped a beat. "What? How? I'll be there in five minutes!" I hung up, my hands trembling as I fumbled for my car keys. It's undoubtedly my worst day yet. The drive was a blur of honking horns and red lights that I ignored. My mind raced faster than the car, filled with dread and disbelief. When I arrived, my house was already engulfed in flames. Thick black smoke billowed into the sky, and th
RICHARD'S POVThe charred remains of the documents haunted me as I stared at Gregory, his smug grin etched into my mind like a scar that won’t heal. I clenched my fists, feeling the heat rise to my face. "I have the court's backing," I insisted, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation. That was when Gregory stopped and turned back, his laughter filling the room, echoing off the walls like the ghosts of my lost hopes. "Oh, Richard, you poor deluded fool. The judge who handled your case is dead. What proof do you have now? Ashes?" He chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with condescension. I could almost see the ghosts of my dreams, the ones I'd built on acquiring the company, slipping away. "You need to step down, Gregory. Or I'll bring the police into this." His laughter stopped abruptly. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine, his breath hot and reeking of whiskey. "You think the police will help you? They're in my pocket, every last one of them. Do yoursel
RICHARD'S POVThe waiting hall buzzed with a mix of tension and anticipation as we, the aspirants, sat there, clutching our forms. The air was thick with expectation, and the murmur of whispered conversations filled the room. I'd been through many nerve-wracking moments in my life, but this was different. This was the beginning of a new chapter, one I wasn't entirely sure I'd survive. The officials processed our forms with commendable efficiency. One by one, they called out names, and we approached the desk to complete our initial registration. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited. I glanced around, taking in the expressions of the other aspirants. Some wore masks of confidence, while others, like me, betrayed a hint of nervousness. Finally, my name was called. I stepped forward, handed over my form, and watched as the official stamped it with a satisfying thud. The initial registration was done, but the real test was yet to come. We were ushered into another room where the crit