RICHARD'S POVThe morning after the unsettling discovery of the photographs, I was greeted by an unexpected but entirely welcome notification on my phone. The message was from the ultra-billionaire system."Congratulations, Richard. You have been granted $5 million to enhance your business ventures. Spend this to unlock a new skill point." A smile tugged at my lips. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. With threats looming and projects expanding, this was the windfall I needed. But it wasn't just about the money; it was the skill point that intrigued me most. The ability to acquire a new skill could be a game-changer.I sat at my desk, the morning light casting long shadows across the room, and dialed Jenny, my assistant who had proven herself indispensable time and again. "Good morning, Richard. What's on the agenda today?" Jenny's voice was crisp, the sound of someone who thrived on efficiency. "Morning, Jenny. I need you to transfer all files related to my partnership wit
RICHARD'S POVTension crackled in the air Like the sizzle of hot oil. The stainless steel counters reflected not only the bright overhead lights but also the high stakes of the competition laid out before us. I stood at my station, a collection of ingredients lined up like soldiers ready for battle. Across from me, Chef Baptiste was a picture of concentrated arrogance, his knives laid out with surgical precision.I could feel the skeptical glares burning into my back. Just hours ago, I had made a secret purchase from the Ultra-billionaire system—a comprehensive set of elite cooking skills. It felt like cheating, but in this cutthroat world, I needed every advantage. I tied my apron, the murmur of the staff around me was impossible to ignore. “That’s the guy? He doesn’t look like he’s ever held a knife properly,” sneered a sous chef as he expertly diced vegetables. “Must be one of those rich brats who thinks cooking is just another plaything,” another chimed in, her voice dripping wit
RICHARD'S POVChef Baptiste was still on his knees, his pride crumbling like a poorly baked soufflé. The room was a mix of hushed whispers and stifled chuckles, the energy shifting between sympathy and disbelief."Please, Richard. I—I can do better. Just give me another chance," Baptiste pleaded, his voice breaking under the strain. This was my moment of triumph, and I wasn't about to let it slip away. But as he pleaded with me, desperation etched into every line of his face, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was time to put an end to this charade."Enough," I said firmly, my voice cutting through the air like a knife. "You've had your chance. Now leave. I believe the stipulation was clear enough from the start."But to my surprise, instead of obeying my command, the chef began to laugh—a low, mocking sound that grated on my nerves. I narrowed my eyes, my patience wearing thin. Did he truly think this was a laughing matter?"What's so funny?" I demanded, my tone lace
RICHARD'S POV Walking out of the kitchen, I felt a mix of elation and anxiety. I had proven myself in this fierce arena, not just as a boss but as a chef. The road ahead would be challenging, but tonight, I had earned something invaluable- their respect and, unexpectedly, my own passion for cooking. By the time I got home, exhaustion clawed at my body, but a triumphant grin was plastered across my face as I flopped onto my bed. It had been a monumental day, not just in terms of business, but personally. I'd finally put Chef Baptiste in his place after his unwarranted arrogance and disrespect towards me. The thought alone had me chuckling into the soft pillow. Just as I was about to drift into sleep, my phone lit up with an incoming email notification. I groaned inwardly, knowing it was probably just another boring reminder or update. However, as I read the sender's name—Jenny, my personal assistant—a spark of alertness surged through me. The meeting with Rhodes Inc. tomorrow mornin
RICHARD'S POVMy mind raced, and I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over me like a heavy fog."Henderson," I began, my voice steady but tinged with concern, "can you provide me with a list of all the parties involved in this bidding process?"Henderson raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Of course, Richard," he replied, reaching for a folder on his desk. "But may I ask why?"I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. "I need to ensure that there are no conflicts of interest," I explained carefully. "I want to make sure that we're approaching this project with caution."The paper felt heavy as it slid across his glossy table, the names typed in a stark, impersonal font. My eyes widened, catching on two familiar names—Jonathan and William, my stepbrothers. I felt a surge of anger rising within me. I knew them—they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, even if it meant playing dirty. The room suddenly felt colder, the air thic
The night stretched on endlessly as I tossed and turned, each tick of the clock serving as a relentless reminder of the chaos that had engulfed my life. 3:27 AM blinked accusingly on the bedside clock, its red digits slicing through the darkness like sharp accusations. Sleep was a distant memory, chased away by the relentless onslaught of thoughts racing through my mind.The morning light began to filter through the blinds, casting a cold, unwelcome glow across the room. Dawn brought no relief, only the harsh reality of the nightmare that had unfolded just hours before.I sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by scattered papers and my laptop, trying to make sense of the chaos that had consumed my life. My phone vibrated, and I saw Henderson Rhodes's name flashing on the screen. He was the closest thing I had to an ally in this mess, and despite my racing heart, his voice was a reassuring presence amidst the turmoil.“Richard, I saw the news. What’s going on? What's this mess, man!? Te
RICHARD'S POVI stormed into my house, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. The events of the day weighed heavily on my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that lingered in the air. As I kicked off my shoes and threw my keys onto the table, I knew there was only one thing left to do: confront my brothers.With a deep breath, I dialed their number, my fingers trembling with a mix of anger and apprehension. The phone rang once, twice, before finally, it was answered."Richard?" came the voice of my brother, Jonathan, on the other end of the line."Yeah, it's me," I replied tersely. "We need to talk."There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could almost feel the tension crackling through the phone. "What's this about?" Jonathan asked cautiously."You know damn well what it's about," I snapped, my frustration boiling over. "Those leaked files, the accusations—did you have something to do with it?"There was a moment of stunned silence before Jonathan
RICHARD'S POVThe next day dawned with a sense of urgency hanging heavy in the air. I knew I needed to address the situation head-on, to confront the storm that threatened to engulf me before it grew too powerful to control.With a deep breath, I picked up my phone, my fingers tapping impatiently against the sleek surface as I dialed Henderson's number. The call rang, each ring felt like an eternity, the anticipation mounting with every passing second until finally, he answered.“Henderson," I greeted him, my voice tight with tension. "I need to talk to you about yesterday."There was a pause on the other end of the line before Henderson replied, his tone guarded. "What about yesterday?”"Henderson," I began, my voice clipped with frustration. "I saw you on TV last night. Care to explain why you went for that interview without informing me?"Henderson sighed, his frustration evident even over the phone. "Look, Richard, I did what I had to do. Our partnership is on the line, and invest