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
Marvin pulled his sedan into a parking spot just outside the Mayor’s Bite restaurant. The neon lights flickered in the evening gloom, casting a pale glow on the sidewalk. He killed the engine and stepped out, stretching his back, wincing slightly as his hand brushed against the bandage on his head. Circling around to the back, he opened the door for his kids. “Easy, Bryan. Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, just in time to catch his son as the boy tumbled out, nearly tripping on the curb. Bryan grinned, as fearless as ever. “I’m fine, Dad.” Marvin chuckled despite himself, then turned his attention to his daughter. “Hey, sweetie, ready to come out?” His voice softened as he gently lifted her from the car seat, with her tiny hands clutching his shirt. She giggled, pressing her chubby cheek against his, and his heart melted just like it always did. But before he could fully savor the moment, Bryan’s voice broke through. “Dad, is your head still hurting?” Marvin adjusted his daugh
Marvin shot up from his seat, his legs turned shaky beneath him, but his heart raced with burning anger. His breath hitched, and his thoughts tumbled over each other like a dam ready to burst. He forced a strained smile, trying to make sense of the situation. "Honey, welcome... how—" "Hey, my little angels!" Martha’s voice cut through his greeting like a knife, her tone was unnervingly sweet, but it wasn’t for him. She breezed past Marvin as though he didn’t exist, swooping down to embrace their children. “Mommy, you’re late!” Bryan said, as his arms were wrapped tightly around her. His voice carried that mix of worry and joy, clearly happy to see her after what felt like an eternity. Martha tousled his hair. “I know, baby. I’m here now.” Marvin’s pulse quickened. He couldn’t believe it. Martha had never ignored him before—not once in their years together. She was always affectionate, always pulling him into her world. And now? Now, it was as if he was invisible. What was