In the large room of his parents, Rowland sat in silence, his head spinning from what had happened over the last few hours. He could not stop the dialogue with Amaya from replaying itself in his mind like a shattered record. Her harsh remarks, Clinton's chuckles, and the Jones family's laughter were all too real and raw. Mrs. Fence, his mother, sat opposite him, trying not to show her rage with her piercing eyes as she studied his face. Mr. Fence was visibly furious at what their son had been through as he paced the room in a deliberate and agitated manner. "They made fun of you in front of their family? That little Jones girl dared to treat you in that manner?" Mrs. Fence spoke in a tight, barely controlled rage. With his fingers tapping lightly on the chair's arm, Rowland maintained his composure despite having just lost someone he loved to Clinton. "I want to deal with them in my own way," he stated, his tone firm. "I do not want them to discover who I truly am. Not just yet.
“What?! They did that to you? Mrs. Fence's nostrils flared, her anger barely contained. "That family has no idea who they are messing with. If I make just one call, the family's finances will be completely destroyed by the end of the week!It was clear from their remarks that Mr. and Mrs. Fence disapproved of Rowland's courtroom humiliation.It was Mr. Fence who finally spoke from his silent spot by the window. "Son, I know you want to exact revenge, but why hold off? At this point, you can destroy them. All of the power is at your disposal. You do not have to conceal yourself behind this... front."Rowland stayed put, his jaw clenched. "This is personal, Father. I do not want them to only know my true identity. I want them to feel the weight of their own stupidity, the agony of seeing someone they thought was beneath them soar to heights they can only imagine."With pride and concern in her eyes, Mrs. Fence folded her arms and gazed at her son. "And precisely how are you going to ac
A new day dawned at Fence Emerald Company, one unlike any other. The sun was high in the sky, casting a soft golden hue across the modern building's glass facade. Inside, there was a palpable sense of anticipation, particularly among upper management. The unveiling of their most recent jewelry project, which they had been working on for months. A crowd of investors had gathered from all over the city to see what they thought would be a historic occasion for the company."Hey, fetch those files from my office and hand them over to the secretary right away." Amaya spoke while seated at the sizable mahogany conference table, her fingers tapping tensely on its glossy surface. She was the company's general manager, so she was well aware of the importance of this presentation. This was a critical day; success could propel the business to unprecedented heights, and failure? Well, the alternative was not failure. She looked over at Vice President Clinton, who was standing by the projector,
Amaya stood motionless, her eyes widening as Clinton's face turned a beet red with rage. By now, everyone in the room was on edge, trying to piece together this strange and unexpected turn of events, and the tension had reached a boiling point. Clinton's voice echoed again, this time with a loud, disbelieving tone. "Security! Get him out of here right now!" Clinton barked, pointing his finger at Rowland.The security officers entered the room right away. They were tall, dark-suited men who moved purposefully. They appeared prepared to drag Rowland out without hesitation. "You heard the Vice President; now move it!" The Chief Security guard stated.By contrast, Rowland maintained his composure and had an unflappable expression. He continued to stare at Clinton, but he felt a stab in his chest. He had not expected such blatant disrespect, especially from someone like Clinton. Just as a guard was about to take him by the arm, a sharp voice broke through the confusion."Stop there imme
"Never! I would never accept it!" Clinton was still enraged, "Fatima, you better watch what you say."Rowland, the former menial worker, received an official appointment as the project manager from his father. His heart thumped with humiliation and rage. Amaya stood beside him, witnessing the color drain from his face, but she too was unable to get over her shock. How was this even possible? How could Rowland, of all people, be granted such power?Amaya interrupted the silence. "Make a call to your parents. There must be a mistake." Although she spoke steadily, there was a hint of urgency in her tone. She did not have to tell Clinton twice. He grabbed his phone right away and dialed his father's number, hoping he would pick up. However, the phone rang, but his father was not answering at the time.He immediately dialed his father's second number, holding out hope that he would answer. Rather, the well-known tone of Khalid, his father's personal helper, responded. Clinton’s stomach
Clinton stormed out of the hall, his rage barely contained as his footsteps echoed angrily down the grand corridor of the company's headquarters. Amaya followed him, her thoughts racing as she attempted to comprehend the unexpected turn of events. How is it possible for this to occur? Rowland, the once-insignificant employee, had risen to power overnight, and Khalid, Clinton's father's most trusted aide, had publicly supported him. It felt like the ground beneath their feet had shifted, leaving them disoriented and helpless."Clinton, slow down," Amaya said, her voice tinged with urgency. "We cannot simply walk away from this. There must be something we can do."Clinton, still enraged, paused and turned to face her. His eyes burned with rage, and his jaw tightened. "Amaya, what are you expecting me to do? I was humiliated in front of everyone by that bastard Rowland. And Khalid supported him—Khalid, of all people. Are you aware of what that means? My own father's right-hand man pref
“Let's take this way, Rowland.”The auction hall was filled with low murmurs and anticipation as people took their seats. Rowland observed the vast area from the entrance. Rich men and women were gathered around the elaborate chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, bathing them in a gentle golden glow. Their expensive clothes and well-mannered demeanor served as a sharp reminder of the world he had only recently entered, and he could feel the weight of their status.However, fitting in was not the goal today. The idea was to make a statement.Khalid, who had gone with him to the function, was ready to follow Rowland inside when Rowland waved a hand and refused. "Thank you, Khalid, but I am going in alone," he said, his voice steady. "I must do this on my own."After a brief moment of hesitation, Khalid nodded. "As you desire, Mr. Rowland. I will be nearby in case you need me."After adjusting his suit jacket and nodding curtly, Rowland strode into the hallway. He could feel the elite
Amaya became sarcastic as soon as her surprise faded. Her eyes glowed with incredulity, and then she laughed sharply, grabbing the attention of people around her. "Oh, this is rich," she sneered, glancing at Clinton before returning her attention to Rowland. “Twice the amount? Are you trying to look foolish in front of all these people, Rowland? You cannot possibly afford such an outrageous bid, you and I know that."The people around them murmured, some exchanging skeptical looks. Rowland's bold proposal had startled them, but Amaya's remarks appeared to hit home with the assembly, as several heads nodded in agreement.Amaya got up from her chair, her dress glistening in the lights, and she walked up to the auctioneer, her tone brimming with conceit. "Something has to be wrong. Surely, you do not expect us to believe that he"—she pointed dismissively at Rowland—"can actually pay for this ring. Why not ask him how he intends to pay?”Clinton stood up and chuckled darkly. "Amaya is c