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OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT. TRUTH OR TREACHERY
The manager tried again, his voice trembling as he attempted to reason with Oliver, "You don’t understand… if the director comes and you’re still here, it won’t be good. Just… do as he says. Please, for your own sake."Oliver’s eyes narrowed in anger. "I’m not scared of him or his so-called director," he replied, standing his ground. "This has gone on long enough."Just as Oliver turned to leave, the man blocked his path, stepping directly in front of him. "Going somewhere?" he sneered, turning to the manager. "If you let him walk out of here, when the police arrive, I’ll make sure you’re arrested too—for aiding and abetting a criminal!" His voice was triumphant, as though he’d just cornered a wild animal. The manager froze, his fear now at an all-time high. "No… no, please…" he whispered. His eyes darted back and forth, filled with panic, looking at Oliver as though pleading for him to stay. "I… I can’t let him leave. We’ll both be in trouble."The manager, visibly trembling, turne
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE. THE NAME THAT TRAPS.
The crowd murmured louder now, their gazes darting between Oliver and the man as the tension in the air mounted.As the chatter in the crowd began to die down, the man raised his voice once again, ensuring all eyes were on him. "The last name on this ID card," he said, waving it in the air, "doesn't match the one he claims. So, clearly, he's a fraud!" Oliver’s heart skipped a beat. His mind raced as he suddenly realized the mistake he'd made that morning. A knot formed in his stomach as he grasped the gravity of the situation. He had grabbed the wrong ID, his old one, from his time at the orphanage. It conflicted with the name his mother had given him when she found him months ago. Though the issue had long since been corrected, no one in the crowd would give him a chance to explain.The air felt thick with judgment as the crowd began whispering again."He’s a fraud? After all that show of power?" one person muttered in disbelief."Unbelievable. So everything he’s been doing here—a
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER EIGHTY. THE MOMENT OF TRUTH
Oliver took a moment to steady himself, feeling the sting of the crowd's increasingly vicious jeers. Their judgment was relentless, and the weight of their scorn began pressing down on him. He knew that staying would only worsen the situation, so he decided to leave. Just as he turned to make his exit, something caught his eye through the large windows of the bank. Outside, two tinted Land Cruiser jeeps pulled up—vehicles that exuded wealth and power. As the crowd inside the bank noticed the scene unfolding, their attention shifted slightly. A guard in a sharp suit stepped out of the first car and opened the back door. From within emerged an elderly man, though not too elderly, perhaps in his late 60s. He wore an impeccably tailored suit that hugged his frame with the elegance of someone used to commanding respect. His hair was neatly combed back, and his posture was upright, radiating an aura of authority and control. He had a polished air about him—his wristwatch gleamed gold, a
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE. THE NAME THAT SHOOK THE ROOM.
But as Oliver finished, something unexpected happened.The mention of the name "Oliver Howard" seemed to pierce the director’s composure. His once stoic expression cracked, and for a brief moment, his eyes widened, a flicker of shock crossing his face. His lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words came. His right hand, which had been resting casually on his cane, gripped it tighter, the knuckles whitening. He shifted on his feet, his posture stiffening unconsciously. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, and he blinked, as though trying to process what he had just heard.He cleared his throat, almost as if to regain control, but his surprise was evident to anyone paying attention. The air in the room felt even heavier, and the crowd could sense that something monumental had just been said, though they couldn’t fully grasp its significance. Oliver, seeing the man’s reaction, felt a wave of nervousness sweep over him, his heart pounding faster. For a few seconds, it seemed as
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO. REVERSAL OF POWER.
Oliver stood firm, his voice steady but laced with growing curiosity as he sensed the shift in Mr. Nicholas's demeanor. “Yes, sir, she’s my mother.”For a moment, Mr. Nicholas remained silent, his piercing gaze studying Oliver with newfound respect. His brow furrowed slightly, as if connecting distant memories. Finally, he spoke again, more composed this time. “Your mother... I knew her many years ago. She was a remarkable woman, sharp, relentless in her pursuits, and always three steps ahead of everyone else. She commanded respect wherever she went. It was impossible not to admire her drive and intellect.”The crowd, which had been jeering and taunting only moments before, now stood in stunned silence. Whispers rippled through them, growing louder with each passing second as they began to understand the gravity of the situation."Wait, did he just say Madam President?""He's... her son? The Madam President?""No way, this can’t be real...""But if he’s telling the truth, we’ve been
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE. CRUMBLED PRIDE
The sound echoed through the bank like a thunderclap. Wilson staggered backward, his hand flying to his stinging cheek. His eyes were wide with disbelief as he processed the instant and unbelievable twist in his fate. Even in his wildest dreams, he could never have imagined receiving a slap from the director of the bank, Nicholas Brian himself.The crowd gasped collectively, their astonishment rippling through the room like wildfire.“Did that just happen?!”“He slapped him!”“No way... Wilson got slapped by the director?”“I never thought I’d see something like this...”People whispered in shock, their eyes darting between Wilson and Mr. Brian, barely able to process the scene unfolding before them.Wilson stood there, speechless, his cheek still burning as he clutched it in disbelief. His confidence had evaporated, leaving him stunned and humiliated. His lips trembled as he tried to form words, but nothing came out.Mr. Brian, his face flushed with anger, pointed a finger at him an
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR. THE FALL OF THE ARROGANT.
Swallowing hard, Wilson forced the words out, each syllable feeling like shards of glass in his throat. “I... apologize, Oliver,” he said, his voice strained and devoid of sincerity. The apology felt hollow, and anyone paying attention could sense it. The bitterness of the moment was etched on Wilson’s face, his lips pressed into a tight line as though the very act of speaking left a foul taste in his mouth.But the fear, the deep, gnawing fear of what Mr. Brian could do, of the secrets he could expose—was enough to compel him to comply. The thought of his escapades being laid bare, of his reputation being shredded in front of these very people, terrified him more than the humiliation of apologizing. His pride was wounded, but his survival instincts had kicked in.Mr. Brian watched Wilson closely, his expression unreadable. Though he could tell that the apology wasn’t heartfelt, there was a certain satisfaction in having forced the man to swallow his pride. At least Wilson had don
OLIVER'S RISE TO INFLUENCE CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE. A HIGH STAKES ALLIANCE.
As Oliver followed Mr. Brian, the imposing façade of the bank loomed over them, its towering structure a reflection of the power and wealth it housed. They walked through a large corridor adorned with marble floors, glass walls, and towering pillars. The grandeur of the place was undeniable. Finally, they arrived at Mr. Brian’s sprawling office, a mammoth room that exuded wealth and power. The office was adorned with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Rich mahogany bookshelves lined one wall, filled with leather-bound books, trophies, and awards, while an intricately carved wooden desk sat at the center of the room. The furniture was plush, with deep leather chairs and a long polished table that reflected the soft glow of the chandelier hanging above. The space was elegant yet commanding, with modern art hanging on the walls and subtle touches of gold accents in the décor. Mr. Brian gestured to one of the luxurious chairs opposite his de
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