There was still a lot of excitement and curiosity surrounding Fence Emerald Company's grand presentation. Investors whispered to one another about Rowland's outstanding presentation. It was difficult to ignore his poise and confidence, even the most cynical skeptics had to concede.However, the atmosphere was completely different at the Jones table. Amaya, Clinton, and Mr. and Mrs. Jones were visibly nervous, their earlier belief in Rowland's failure shattered."This is not how it is supposed to go," Amaya complained angrily. "We must find a way to turn things around before it is too late."Clinton leaned in close to her, his voice low and frustrated. "Patience. His downfall will arrive. Just wait.”Before they could say anything else, a commotion broke out at the entrance to the hall.“Let me in! I need to see my son!” A man's voice yelled, loud and desperate.All eyes were drawn to the disturbance as security guards struggled to restrain an elderly man who had forced his way past t
The tension in the hall had reached a boiling point. The audience was in a state of unrest after the old man's accusation, and the mutterings from the crowd became louder with every second that went by.Investors, and visitors looked at each other with disdain, skepticism, and judgment on their faces.Rowland, standing in the middle of the storm, found it difficult to remain calm, his once-polished manner now crumbling under the tremendous strain.An investor sitting in the front row got up and spoke directly to Rowland. He spoke firmly but with a hint of doubt and curiosity. "If this man is not your father, why is he making such a claim? "What reason would he have to lie about something so important?"The question hung in the air, highlighting the gravity of the situation. Rowland adjusted his posture, his jaw tightening as he prepared to respond."I assure you, sir," he said, his voice steady but strained. "This man is not my father. I am not sure who he is or why he has come here t
After the last of the guests and investors had left, the hall was strangely quiet, with their dissatisfaction murmurs lingering in the air like a thick fog.The once-bright atmosphere of possibility had darkened, leaving Rowland standing in the ruins of his hard work. The sound of the doors closing behind the final guest sounded like a death knell, echoing throughout the now-empty room.Rowland, Khalid, and Fatima went to Rowland's office, their silence as heavy as the failed deal. Khalid slammed his fist against the desk, breaking it first."I can not believe it," he said angrily, pacing back and forth. "The design project deal is gone, just like that! Mr. Mark was not faking it. He meant what he said."There was a look of quiet rage on Rowland's face as he leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. He kept up a composed front, but his polished exterior was starting to show signs of wear and tear. "This was clearly staged," he finally stated. "Someone picked the ideal time to str
The morning sun filtered through Mr. Fence's tall windows, casting long beams of light across the polished marble floor.Clinton sat comfortably in a plush armchair across from Mr. Fence, his posture relaxed but authoritative.Khalid, seated a few steps away from Mr. Fence, kept a neutral expression, but his sharp eyes did not miss anything as Clinton spoke. Khalid was aware of the importance of this meeting and had been briefed on the events of the day before. He decided to keep quiet for the time being so that Clinton could make his case.Clinton spoke in a measured, slightly worried tone to start."Father, I appreciate you seeing me on short notice. I would not have come here unless it was important. What happened at the presentation yesterday was disastrous for Fence Emerald, and I feel compelled to bring it to your attention."Mr. Fence leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable. "I am listening. Go on."Clinton cleared his throat and looked at Khalid, who had a neutral
As each of the four men took their seats, the air in the room became thick with tension. Mr. Fence sat at the front of the room, his back straight and his gaze commanding.Khalid, as silent and observant as ever, sat to the left of Mr. Fence, his sharp eyes darting between Rowland and Clinton.Clinton, visibly agitated, sat opposite Rowland, whose calm demeanor gave no indication of the storm brewing around him.It was an unplanned and uninvited meeting, but everyone present knew that the conversation would shape Fence Emerald's future.Rowland was the first person to speak. His tone was measured, and he chose each word with care. "Mr. Fence, I came here because there is something you should know. "The jewelry design project with Mr. Mark has been officially cancelled."Mr. Fence's expression remained impassive, but his silence indicated that he wanted to hear more. Before Rowland could finish, Clinton, who had been itching to say something, leaned forward in his chair, his voice lace
Clinton stormed out of Mr. Fence's room, his face etched with rage. The humiliation of being silent in front of Rowland and Khalid was unbearable.He slammed the door behind him, muttering curses under his breath as he walked to the parking lot. His steps were quick and forceful, echoing through the empty halls of Fence's large Maison.The journey home was no better; his knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind racing with vengeance.Clinton was furious by the time he arrived at his home. He flung open the door and stepped inside, startling Amaya, who was sitting in the living room drinking tea.She looked up, her face brightening with concern as she saw the rage in her husband's eyes."What happened?" she inquired, setting her cup down and rising to greet him.Clinton paced back and forth, running his hand through his hair like a caged animal. "That man—Father—he supported Rowland again! He refused to listen to reason, and when I suggested Rowland's removal as pr
The room at Fence Maison was unusually tense. The aftermath of the previous incident during the presentation lingered like a shadow, casting doubt and confusion over those present. Rowland sat at the far end of the table, his fingers drumming on the polished surface. His father, Mr. Fence, stood by the tall windows, his posture rigid as he looked out at the sprawling cityscape. Khalid, ever perceptive and meticulous, took a seat to Rowland's left, his sharp gaze darting between the father and son.Mr. Fence broke the silence, turning to face them with a grim expression."Son," he began, his voice low and controlled, "I want to know everything you know about the old man who interrupted the presentation that day. Who exactly is he? And why would he claim to be your father?"Rowland shook his head, his brow furrowed in genuine puzzlement. "Father, I have never seen that man before in my life. His face does not ring any bells. I was as surprised as you were when he walked in and began m
The next morning, the old man sat in the lobby of a small hospital, his mind clouded with memories of a life full of mistakes and regrets.His hands trembled as he clutched a photograph of his late wife, Isabella Dwin, whom he had not seen in decades.He had spent the night before piecing together fragments of his past, haunted by the possibility that he had mistakenly assumed his daughter had died with her mother during childbirth.When the nurse called his name, he stood up and determinedly followed her into the doctor's office. The doctor, an older man with a friendly but inquisitive expression, motioned for him to sit."How can I assist you today?" the doctor inquired, folding his hands over a stack of files.The old man leaned forward, his voice full of emotion. "I need to look into the records of a woman named Isabella Dwin. She was admitted to this facility several years ago. She... died while giving birth."“Who was she to you?”"She was my wife."The doctor furrowed his brow
The day of the final presentation at Fence Emerald Company arrived with much excitement. The venue was a grand hall that had been meticulously decorated with golden drapes and silver accents to create an elegant and formal atmosphere.The floor was lined with rows of neatly arranged tables, each reserved for a prominent figure in business. As attendees began to arrive, the room was filled with low murmurs and excited chatter.Mr. Mark and a group of prominent investors were among the invited guests from a variety of industries.Clinton, the Fence Emerald Company's vice president, was seated at a prestigious table close to the front with Mr. Fence, the company's chief executive officer, and Khalid, his personal assistant.Mr. and Mrs. Jones soon followed, their triumphant, self-assured steps announcing their arrival.Discreetly enjoying the fact that their plan appeared to be going well, they dressed immaculately and greeted other guests politely."Today is the day," Mrs. Jones muttere
That same day, the atmosphere at the Jones Company was tense. Rowland sat at his desk, looking composed but determined.He had just signed off on a letter that he knew would cause a stir throughout the company—a termination letter for Mia.He put the letter in a folder and a few seconds later Beauty, the secretary, came into the room. She noted his unusual stillness and furrowed brow as he slid the document across the desk toward her."Sir, Is there anything urgent?" Beauty inquired cautiously."Yes," Rowland responded, his tone even yet firm. "This is Mia's termination notice. I would like you to personally deliver it to Mr. and Mrs. Jones. I want them to sign it too."Beauty stood stunned, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Sir... Mia? Are you certain?”Rowland responded with a nod. "It has been authorized. Please ensure that it gets to them as soon as possible."Beauty paused, searching his face for an explanation, but his expression was unreadable. Knowing better than to inquire fur
The next morning at Jones Company, the atmosphere was alive with activity as employees shuffled around, getting ready for another busy day. However, behind the pristine façade of the company's operations, Mr. and Mrs. Jones were deep in conversation, their voices hushed but charged with malice. They sat across from each other in Mr. Jones' large office, with the blinds drawn to ensure privacy. Mrs. Jones leaned forward, tapping the table with her neatly manicured nails. "It is no surprise that Mia has been assisting Rowland behind our backs. That girl has created her own obstacle, and you know how I feel about obstacles." Mr. Jones smirked, his expression darkened. "She has no idea what is going to happen. You are right, though. If we are going to deal with Rowland properly, we need to first neutralize Mia.” Mrs. Jones gave a nod, her eyes narrowing. "Exactly. And, after hearing how Rowland lost the deal at Fence Emerald Company, I am confident we can replicate his success
Amaya moved quickly down the hallway of Fence Emerald Company, her heels clicking sharply against the polished tiles. Her confidence radiated as she approached the Vice President's office.She had always considered Clinton to be not only her husband, but also her strongest ally in the company, and she felt vindicated today.She could still remember Mr. Mark's gleeful compliments, and she felt even more triumphant after witnessing Rowland's subdued response.She knocked lightly and went inside without waiting for a response. Clinton looked up from his desk, his sharp features softening into a happy smile."Amaya," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Just on time. I assume everything went according to plan?"Amaya returned the smile, setting her handbag on one of the chairs before taking a seat. "It was better than I expected. Mr. Mark was completely impressed. He’s reinstating the deal and even praised the design to Rowland’s face.”Clinton chuckled and shook his head. "I promised
Rowland stepped out of the taxi as it approached Fence Emerald Company, his mind racing with memories of the old man's revelations. He had promised to help, but there was still much he did not know. The old man remained in the taxi, reluctant to draw attention to himself. "I will handle this for the time being," Rowland said, looking back at him. "The taxi driver will transport you back from here." The old man nodded reluctantly and clutched his photograph tightly. Rowland adjusted his tie before entering the company's sleek glass doors. The air was filled with activity, with employees rushing back and forth with files and tablets in hand. Rowland came to a halt as he approached his office, recognizing Mr. Mark, standing near the main lobby. Mr Mark was shaking hands with Amaya Clinton. The sight was unusual enough to make him pause. "Thank you, Mrs. Clinton," Mr. Mark replied warmly, his tone full of gratitude. "Your design is precisely what we needed to persuade the board
The next morning, the old man sat in the lobby of a small hospital, his mind clouded with memories of a life full of mistakes and regrets.His hands trembled as he clutched a photograph of his late wife, Isabella Dwin, whom he had not seen in decades.He had spent the night before piecing together fragments of his past, haunted by the possibility that he had mistakenly assumed his daughter had died with her mother during childbirth.When the nurse called his name, he stood up and determinedly followed her into the doctor's office. The doctor, an older man with a friendly but inquisitive expression, motioned for him to sit."How can I assist you today?" the doctor inquired, folding his hands over a stack of files.The old man leaned forward, his voice full of emotion. "I need to look into the records of a woman named Isabella Dwin. She was admitted to this facility several years ago. She... died while giving birth."“Who was she to you?”"She was my wife."The doctor furrowed his brow
The room at Fence Maison was unusually tense. The aftermath of the previous incident during the presentation lingered like a shadow, casting doubt and confusion over those present. Rowland sat at the far end of the table, his fingers drumming on the polished surface. His father, Mr. Fence, stood by the tall windows, his posture rigid as he looked out at the sprawling cityscape. Khalid, ever perceptive and meticulous, took a seat to Rowland's left, his sharp gaze darting between the father and son.Mr. Fence broke the silence, turning to face them with a grim expression."Son," he began, his voice low and controlled, "I want to know everything you know about the old man who interrupted the presentation that day. Who exactly is he? And why would he claim to be your father?"Rowland shook his head, his brow furrowed in genuine puzzlement. "Father, I have never seen that man before in my life. His face does not ring any bells. I was as surprised as you were when he walked in and began m
Clinton stormed out of Mr. Fence's room, his face etched with rage. The humiliation of being silent in front of Rowland and Khalid was unbearable.He slammed the door behind him, muttering curses under his breath as he walked to the parking lot. His steps were quick and forceful, echoing through the empty halls of Fence's large Maison.The journey home was no better; his knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind racing with vengeance.Clinton was furious by the time he arrived at his home. He flung open the door and stepped inside, startling Amaya, who was sitting in the living room drinking tea.She looked up, her face brightening with concern as she saw the rage in her husband's eyes."What happened?" she inquired, setting her cup down and rising to greet him.Clinton paced back and forth, running his hand through his hair like a caged animal. "That man—Father—he supported Rowland again! He refused to listen to reason, and when I suggested Rowland's removal as pr
As each of the four men took their seats, the air in the room became thick with tension. Mr. Fence sat at the front of the room, his back straight and his gaze commanding.Khalid, as silent and observant as ever, sat to the left of Mr. Fence, his sharp eyes darting between Rowland and Clinton.Clinton, visibly agitated, sat opposite Rowland, whose calm demeanor gave no indication of the storm brewing around him.It was an unplanned and uninvited meeting, but everyone present knew that the conversation would shape Fence Emerald's future.Rowland was the first person to speak. His tone was measured, and he chose each word with care. "Mr. Fence, I came here because there is something you should know. "The jewelry design project with Mr. Mark has been officially cancelled."Mr. Fence's expression remained impassive, but his silence indicated that he wanted to hear more. Before Rowland could finish, Clinton, who had been itching to say something, leaned forward in his chair, his voice lace