The word hit Oliver like a wave, surprise washed over his face, his brow arching as he stared at the guy in disbelief.He found the guy’s response almost hilarious, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. “Are you sure you're not insane? Oliver snarled. "I paid for it, so it’s mine now,” he responded, his tone sharp and unwavering.But the guy’s face twisted with fury, his eyes narrowing as he tried to protest. “You can’t just take my phone like that,” he barked, his voice rising in anger. “What then happens to my contacts and messages you bastard?”But Oliver wasn’t about to back down. The guy’s bullying tactics had no effect on him. With a steely glare, he remained firm, refusing to be intimidated. Angrily, he pulled out the SIM card from the phone and tossed it at the guy with a dismissive flick of his wrist. He then turned to the girl, handing her the phone. “It’s yours now,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle. “No one’s going to bully you over this again. You’re free from
Oliver’s pulse raced as he saw the black sedan still tailing him. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized who was following him. Fear gripped him, those guys from the mall were brutal, and he knew they wouldn't stop until they had their revenge. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as his mind raced, desperately trying to come up with a plan. He hit his hand against the steering wheel in frustration, his thoughts jumbled and panicked."Think, think!" he muttered to himself, struggling to find a way out. He was drawing a blank, and the looming danger only made it harder to focus.Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind. He grabbed his phone and dialed Simon's number, his hands trembling as he held the wheel with one hand and he kept one eye on the road. When Simon answered, Oliver didn't waste any time. "Simon, I’m in deep trouble—serious trouble, and I need serious help, now!" Oliver said, his voice tight with urgency."Young master, what's th
The menacing rumble of the bikes closed in, signaling that the time for talk was over. Oliver’s heart pounded as he braced himself for whatever was coming next, hoping against hope that Simon’s backup would arrive in time.The guy had barely finished his statement when three roaring motorbikes and a battered mini car screeched to a halt in front of them.The bikes, ridden by men wearing dark, intimidating gear, skidded to a dramatic stop, their engines growling aggressively. The mini car, old but rugged, parked with a commanding flair, its tires kicking up dust as it came to a sudden stop. The men got off from their bikes flaunting heavy sticks and iron bars, while the people in the mini car stepped out, with chains. They moved smoothly and with a threatening air, each step showing they meant business.The men gave a ghetto salute, nodding respectfully and addressing the guy with deference. “Boss, what’s the play?”The guy, now basking in his newfound power, pointed directly at Olive
The guy and his men, once brimming with arrogance, could only stare in stunned silence, their confidence evaporating like mist in the morning sun.The harsh reality of their situation hit them like a sledgehammer, leaving them breathless and wide-eyed. Never in their darkest nightmares could they have foreseen such a sudden and catastrophic turn of events.The guy’s demeanor changed in an instant. The menacing confidence melted away, replaced by a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. He forced a smile, the kind of smile that someone wears when they realize they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. “My friend,” he stammered, his voice shaking, “can’t one joke with you anymore? Because of a little joke, you’ve decided to call the entire military?”Oliver’s laughter grew colder, more menacing. “Did you just say ‘joke’? With all those threats of taking my entire money, my car... those slaps?” He touched his cheek where the sting of their blows still lingered. “You call those jok
Oliver’s men’s faces showed a mix of satisfaction and happiness as they heard Oliver's command. Their eyes focused, ready to get the job done. The leader of the team with a serious expression gave a firm nod and a slight smile.“Understood, young master,” he replied, his voice carrying a note of approval.Meanwhile, the guys who had bullied Oliver were wide-eyed and panic-stricken as they heard his orders. Their earlier arrogance had now evaporated and been replaced by sheer fear.Without hesitation, one of the men quickly went to their trunk and returned with two Jerry-cans of water. The moment those guys saw what was happening, they watched in horror, their eyes widening as they realized what was coming.Their eyes darted between Oliver and the approaching figures, and they tried to stammer out desperate pleas, their voices trembling. The realization of what was about to happen was written clearly on their faces.Meanwhile, Oliver’s lips curled into a sinister smile as the cans were
Oliver’s order made the thugs' expressions shifted from shock to sheer panic. Their eyes widened in disbelief, beads of sweat began to form on their foreheads as the reality of the situation hit them. Things had gone from bad to worse for them, they were still writhing in pain from the brutal beating. “Wait, please! Don’t do that!” one of them pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation.“This isn’t fair, man!” another one shouted, his tone a mix of fear and anger. “We didn’t mean it! It was just a misunderstanding!”They looked at each other, trying to come up with something—anything—that could save them. “We were just following orders!” one of them stammered, trying to shift the blame.But it was clear their words were falling on deaf ears as they watched in horror, their hearts sinking, knowing there was no way out of this.Meanwhile, the word had barely left Oliver's mouth and before the thugs could fully process what was happening, Oliver's men moved with ruthless precision.
When Oliver's eyes locked onto Professor Hamilton, his heart skipped a beat. His confident stride faltered, and a cold sweat prickled the back of his neck. His eyes widened in shock, and his face drained of color as the reality of the situation hit him. He had walked right into the lion's den. His mouth went dry, and for a moment, he was rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak, his thoughts raced as dread settled in the pit of his stomach.Professor Hamilton was the last person Oliver wanted to see in this situation. This professor has always despised him, and has never been shy about his disdain for Oliver's scholarship. He has always been desperate to see him fail, especially now that he was in the running for the best student award of his cohort. The memory of how Professor Hamilton had schemed to strip him of the Best Student of the Year award, handing it instead to Harry, still stung deeply. He has been so clear in his preference for Harry and in his contempt for Oliver.
The classroom buzzed with anticipation, and Oliver knew exactly what was happening—this was a deliberate attempt to make him fail. But he couldn’t back down, not with his academic future on the line."Do you agree to these terms?" Professor Hamilton asked with a smug smile on his face.Oliver swallowed hard, knowing he had no real choice. "Yes, sir," he replied, his voice steady despite the pressure. He had to face whatever came next, no matter how unfair it was.Meanwhile, as Professor Hamilton announced that he would allow Oliver to retake the test, the class buzzed with whispers and smirks. The rules were outrageous, and everyone knew it.A 60-mark test in just 20 minutes, with no chance of appeal, and marked by one of the students—this was a setup, and the entire class was thrilled about it."Finally, he's going to get what he deserves," Harry muttered under his breath, loud enough for those nearby to hear.Professor Hamilton smirked at Harry's comment, his intentions no longer con