Gerald's arrival in Anson's hideout wasn't as productive or as friendly as he'd thought. How dare he forget that nothing about Anson was friendly?An air of tension hung in the air as Gerald recounted the frightening details of Viktor's failed assassination attempt.There wasn't a single tinge of sympathy in Anson's eyes as he watched Gerald narrate the story. The only thing he could think of was how he had underestimated Viktor Grey."The hotel room had been destroyed, but the reservation was under an alias. It won't be traceable to either of us," Gerald immediately added, careful as not to anger Anson.Anson's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. "You're telling me that Viktor Grey actively tried to have you killed?" His tone, a mix of disbelief and anger, betrayed the severity of the threat. "Which means he knows about me."Gerald, still shaken by the narrow escape, nodded solemnly. "Yes, Anson. It was a close call. I need your help to stop Viktor before he c
Oliver stirred from a deep slumber as his peaceful morning was interrupted by his ringing phone, cutting through the silence of his bedroom. He reached for the device on the nightstand, picking it up groggily with his eyes still heavy with the remnants of sleep. Reluctantly, he answered, a sense of tiredness settling over him.It was barely five am in the morning. What could be the problem? Oliver had slept late as usual. He spent half the night trying to sort some files."Yes?" Oliver answered grumpily as he placed his phone against his ear. His worker's voice crackled through the phone, delivering news that turned Oliver's sleepiness into disbelief and profound shock."The company, sir, it's on fire."The words hung in the air, heavy with urgency, and for seconds, Oliver couldn't bear to believe it. "What are you talking about?" He sat up. "What are you talking about?"His worker explained they found it ablaze, offering no clarity on the cause. "The security resumed at dusk, sayin
Gerald's head had been filled with all kinds of thoughts after he met Manuel Harper— the father he'd never known.The father he'd never had. Manuel's presence brought him peace as he knew that Manuel was capable of taking care of his mother. Asides from that, even after days had passed, Gerald hadn't been able to digest the fact that he had a father.Or that his father was someone of such affluence. It was indeed a gory scene. Anson's blood was no different from paint, sprawled across the floor that even Gerald couldn't avoid stepping on it as he walked into the building.One thing about information was how fast it lew around. Just this morning, Gerald had heard about Oliver's burning company, and he immediately knew that only Anson was capable of carrying out such reckless activity.Looking around as he walked in with a few of the men he'd begun to recruit, Gerald realized he made the right choice of trailing Oliver and his men throughout the day. He knew, deep down, that it was onl
The news of Anson's death had hit town, revealing to Oliver that there was someone else who wanted him dead and was working in the shadows.All in all, Anson was gone now, and Oliver focused his attention on rebuilding his company as soon as possible. Anson's actions had caused him so much loss, and it was only a matter of time before other ugly activities began to rear their heads when they learned that he was in a pickle.After spending the entire day supervising the construction going on, Oliver set out to head home after Mia called. He missed her and would want to spend the rest of the evening in her arms. All the struggles seemed to pull him away from the peace only Mia could offer.Even thinking about her made him want to leave sooner. Oliver arranged his suitcase and headed out of the site . He had the entire evening to feel loved. Finally, a day without interruption.Maybe he spoke too soon. Oliver watched as a vehicle parked before him, right next to his car. It was an expens
"Someone dropped this parcel for you, boss," Razor, one of Oliver's men, said as he made his way into the room. Razor was also a member of the shadows.Oliver lifted his head up, his eyes fixed on the parcel Razor was carrying in. It was a large envelope the size of a purse. It didn't look like it could contain anything harmful.But nothing was to be trusted. "Who dropped it?" Oliver quizzed as he took it from Razor, examining the parcel. It felt flat and woody. Whatever it contained must be a paper, perhaps a flat book."Manuel, sir," Razor responded. At the mention of Manuel's name, Oliver tore the envelope open and brought out an invitation card.He scoffed as he read it. "An invite?" Manuel was inviting Oliver to his yearly dinner party. Was this man bipolar? He thought.First, Manuel complained about Oliver's father being a traitor; now, he was trying to get close to him? There was another letter attached to the invitation, and Oliver read it.The letter was brief. Join the busin
Protection that unearthed secrets from the first moment it started to happen. That was the case with Gerald and his mother. He hadn't spoken to her about it since he met Manuel and had been working his way to the top.But tonight. It was going to be different. The engine raged to a halt at the front of the building. It was nighttime— a moonless night that cast darkness through every corner. Gerald sighed, holding a cigarette between his lips as he leaned against the car.He'd come to see his mother, and he knew the discussion would come bursting through his containment. Gerald had been trying to sink into the fact that Manuel was his father, and his mother never mentioned it.Anger would quite describe what he felt. He wasn't mad at her for keeping the truth from him, he was just hurt. A lot of things would have played out differently if he knew the truth. And now he had to face it.That was why his keg seemed to sink into the ground as he walked into the building. Gerald didn't belie
Amidst the reconstruction, Oliver Lionheart sat with one of the constructors on a stack of concrete blocks, the parched frame of his company rising from the ashes behind them. The man fidgeted nervously under Oliver's piercing gaze, aware of the influence he wielded and how easily a snap of Oliver's finger could turn his life into a beautiful fantasy or a nightmare.Oliver, eyes gleaming with both anger and desperation, leaned forward. "We're not just rebuilding; we're going bigger this time." He faced the man. "We'll rise stronger from the ruins," he declared, his words carrying the weight of both a command and a plea.The constructor nodded, hesitating before speaking, "Mr. Lionheart, it's risky. We've never taken on a project of this scale."Oliver's gaze softened, the intensity giving way to vulnerability. "I need this. We need this," he admitted, the desperation seeping into his voice. "I can't afford to lose more allies to Viktor's Grey."The constructor had always been one of
As Manuel walked into his luxurious home, the weight of the day's activities still lingered in his mind. He'd left the office briefly after a meeting with his workers to spend little time at home.Manuel was aware that Oliver was looking for him, which was why he had hidden Gerald's mother in another one of his owned apartments.Just as he settled in, his phone rang, interrupting the silence of his residence. A smirk played on his lips as he answered, expecting another move in the chess game with Oliver. Manuel had been nothing short of entertained ever since the streak of threats he'd been sending began.Oliver would; Manuel Manuel was sure of it. Somehow, he'd make sure that he stood at the top. "Boss, there's a fight at the company," the voice on the other end crackled.This had to be Oliver, Manuel thought. Was this really Oliver's genius plan to draw him out? If it was, then it was going to fail woefully.A hearty laugh escaped Manuel's throat. "Oliver's trying to play me, huh?