Tariq Khyber stood up, his movements were slow and deliberate, commanding attention in the room. With an air of confidence, he collected the thick folder from his assistant and opened it. From within, he retrieved a small flash drive, holding it up for everyone to see before passing it to the person in charge of the projector.“My fellow family heads,” he began, his voice was steady and measured, “the numbers don’t lie. Allow me to explain.”The projector screen lit up with charts and graphs as Tariq clicked a remote to begin his presentation. The first slide displayed a summary of Richmond Tech’s profits over the past five years, a consistent fifty billion dollars annually. Then the next slide appeared, showing the Richmond family’s total assets, which had mysteriously surged by five hundred billion in the same period.“As you can see here,” Tariq said, gesturing to the screen, “Richmond Tech’s official profits are accounted for. Fifty billion a year—very impressive for any compa
Daniel Bowen’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment. His hand trembled as he gripped the phone tighter, pressing it closer to his ear. “What did you say, Marcus?” he whispered, his voice cracking.“I am sorry, boss,” Marcus replied with a heavy sigh. “Yes, your son Leo is dead.”The words hit Daniel like a hammer to the chest. He staggered slightly, leaning against the wall for support. His throat tightened as he tried to breathe, but the air felt thick and suffocating. For a moment, the noise of the world around him faded, leaving only the echo of Marcus’s voice.“For about a week now,” Marcus continued, cautiously, “we’ve been investigating what led to your son’s death.”Daniel swallowed hard, trying to keep control of his emotions. His voice was low and heavy. “What did you find out?”Marcus hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “I’m very sorry, boss,” he said finally. “He was murdered. Killed in cold blood. We’ve been digging into it, trying to uncover who was behin
Daniel Bowen still in the conference room, had his chest still heaving with fury. His hand gripped his phone tightly as he scrolled through his contacts. Finding the name he wanted, he pressed the call button. His mind was set.“Hello,” came a calm voice on the other end.“Hello, Hans,” Mr Bowen said, with a voice that was steady but filled with cold determination.“Uncle,” Hans replied, respect was clear in his tone. “What can I do for you?”“I have some new directives for you,” Mr Bowen said firmly, with a voice that left no room for argument. “And I want you to carry them out with the utmost urgency.”“Whatever you say, boss,” Hans replied, instantly alert.Mr Bowen took a deep breath and continued. “Effective immediately, I want you to withdraw all of my investments in Richmond Tech Group. Every single cent. No delays.”Hans paused for a moment, then said, “Understood, Uncle. Consider it done.”“And that’s not all,” Mr Bowen added, his tone hardening further. “Any Richmond Tech s
Mr. Richmond slowly rose to his feet, trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. He turned his eyes toward Evander Velcan, the man he thought might still be an ally despite all the allegations and turmoil. “Evander Velcan,” he said, his voice cracking slightly, “even you? You’re going to take sides with them against me?”Evander’s face was hard, his expression turned into one of disgust. He spoke slowly, his words were sharp and cutting. “Words cannot describe how much I hate Tariq Khyber. I despise everything about him. But,” he paused, leaning forward slightly, “it seems like he is a better man than you will ever be.”The words hit Mr. Richmond like a hammer, and he gasped audibly. “What!” he exclaimed, his voice was filled with shock and humiliation.Evander didn’t stop. He pressed on, his tone growing colder with every word. “There is enough evidence to prove why you cannot be trusted, Mr. Richmond. You sabotaged your alliance with Daniel Bowen, and worst of all, you kill
The luxurious car moved smoothly through the glowing streets of Westwood, Tariq Khyber had reclined comfortably in the backseat. His grin remained firmly in place as he held his phone to his ear, his tone was calm and composed.The call connected, and Marvin's voice from the other end said, “Hello? Who is this?”Tariq’s grin widened. “Hello, Marvin. It’s Tariq Khyber.”The voice on the line shifted, recognizing him. “Oh, Tariq Khyber. What’s up? How did the conference go?”“It went exactly as you said it would,” Tariq replied, with a trace of satisfaction in his voice. “Your father really tried to blackmail me back there, but thanks to your information, he’s the one who left with a red face.”There was a pause before Marvin spoke, with a voice that carried a sense of intrigue. “So, how did Mr. Bowen react when he found out the truth about his son?”Tariq smirked, looking out the window as the city lights danced past. “Mr. Bowen has declared war on the Richmond family. Their alliance
Mr. Christopher stood and gestured for Marvin to follow him. “Come with me,” he said, his tone was serious. “Your training starts now.”Marvin nodded, his resolve was firm. He followed his uncle down the narrow corridor that led to a steel door, heavily secured with multiple locks.Mr. Christopher keyed in a code, and the door slid open with a low hiss, revealing his hidden lab, filled with the advanced machinery and robotics that Marvin had seen the previous time he arrived here. Glowing holograms, and a centerpiece chair surrounded by intricate synaptic connectors were also in the room.“This, as you know,” Mr. Christopher began, motioning to the room, “is where I discovered your Ultra Mega Synapticore Force, Grade 3. But raw power alone isn’t enough, Marvin. To awaken it, you need clarity, control, and unshakable willpower. That’s why this phase begins here—with mental and emotional conditioning.”Marvin frowned, his fists clenching. “Control? Clarity? After all I’ve been through,
Marvin had just stepped down from his sleek, charcoal-gray Mitsubishi Mirage, with the sun reflecting off its polished surface. His heart was still racing from the events of the past few days. He had just wrapped up the auctioning of his father’s tech goods, it was a massive success that spanned three intense days. The final tally? What he generated from the auction? Was a staggering four million dollars. "Father is going to be proud," Marvin thought with a growing sense of accomplishment. His chest swelled with pride. This was his moment—it was proof that he was ready to take on more responsibility as the heir to Richmond Tech Group. As the only child, he’d always felt the weight of the family’s expectations. Today, he felt like he’d finally measured up. As he stepped into the grand Richmond mansion, the cool air and familiar scent of polished wood greeted him. His legs felt heavy from exhaustion, and without a second thought, he headed straight to his room, collapsing onto
“For goodness’ sake, Dad, how could you betray me by depriving me of my right as the rightful heir to your empire?” Marvin’s voice cracked with fury and disbelief. His chest heaved, his emotions were churning in a violent storm. His father, Mr. Richmond, didn’t flinch. He raised his hand to point at the shimmering Synapticore mark on his forehead, its soft glow was now a blinding reminder of the line that separated them. “Well, it’s simple, Marvin,” Mr. Richmond said coolly, his voice was flat, devoid of any warmth. “You don’t have *this*.” Marvin clenched his fists, his nails started digging into his palms as his father’s words cut deeper than any wound. “Oh, so it all comes down to this?” His frustration simmered beneath the surface, threatening to explode. “After everything I’ve done for this company, after all the bridges I’ve helped you build? I alone have generated over a hundred million dollars in three years for your so-called legacy.” His father scoffed, not even bother