The tension in the boardroom of Hoshier Holdings was palpable. Oliver Roberts, seated at the head of the long, polished oak table, exuded calm authority.His sharp suit and steely gaze commanded respect, even as murmurs of discontent whispered among the executives.Across the table, David Cooper sat with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of defiance and barely concealed resentment.David had been vying for the presidency of Hoshier Holdings for years, convinced that his marriage to Jane, Elena’s half-sister, made him the rightful heir to the empire.However, Mr. Hoshier’s decision to entrust the company to Oliver had been a bitter pill to swallow.David cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence."Oliver," he began, his voice smooth but laced with venom, "it’s impressive how quickly you’ve taken the reins of this company. But I can’t help but wonder if your methods align with the legacy Mr. Hoshier intended for his business."Oliver raised an eyebrow, his tone measured."If
Tensions at Hoshier Holdings had reached a boiling point. As Oliver worked tirelessly to stabilize the company amidst David’s sabotage, an unexpected complication arose—Jane. Though she had long hidden her disdain behind polite smiles, her true feelings now surfaced. Jane despised Elena for being Mr. Hoshier’s favored daughter and hated Oliver for his success and for, in her eyes, stealing what should have been David’s.Late one evening, in the Fischer estate’s study, Jane paced the room, her anger barely contained. David sat in a leather armchair, watching his wife with a mixture of curiosity and frustration."David, we’ve been too soft," Jane snapped, stopping to glare at him. "Oliver and Elena have humiliated us for the last time. We need to take them down, completely."David sighed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "I’m already working on it, Jane. The sabotage at Hoshier is—""Not enough!" Jane interrupted, her voice rising. "We need to hit them where it hurts. Their personal l
The glint of the crystal chandelier reflected in the pristine glass walls of Hoshier Tower, where Oliver Roberts sat in his spacious office. His attention was fixed on the screen in front of him, his fingers tapping the edge of the desk as he reviewed the latest reports on the company’s expansion project. A knock on the door interrupted his focus.“Come in,” he called, not looking up.James entered, her expression uneasy. "Sir, there’s been some... chatter in the business circles about you."Oliver frowned, closing his laptop. "Chatter? Be specific."James hesitated before handing him a tablet. The headline on the screen made Oliver’s jaw tighten: "From Rags to Riches: Martin Grayson Slams Oliver Roberts in Scathing Interview."Oliver’s eyes narrowed as he read the accompanying article. Martin Grayson, a man who had climbed the social ladder through his marriage to a wealthy heiress, had publicly insulted Oliver, claiming his success was purely due to his marriage to Elena Hoshier.“‘
Oliver had just stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulders, when the sharp ringtone of his phone echoed in the room. He glanced at the screen, and his lips curved into a soft smile as he saw his mother’s name flashing.“Hello, Mom,” he answered warmly, leaning against the wall.“Oliver…”Her trembling voice immediately wiped the smile off his face. His brows furrowed in concern.“Mom? What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone tightening.“Oliver, this morning…” Her voice broke, and he could hear her struggling to steady herself. “Some men… they broke into the house. Big men. They drugged us.”“What?” Oliver snapped, his grip on the phone tightening. “Mom, where are you now? Are you safe?”“I don’t know!” she cried. “Your father and I—we were unconscious. When we woke up, we were in some dark place. They took us, Oliver. They kidnapped us…”“Damn it,” Oliver muttered, his mind racing. “Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you or Dad?”“No, but—” Before she could finish, th
Nero’s operatives worked swiftly, tracing the threads of Martin Grayson’s activities.Meanwhile, Oliver prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. He spent the evening pacing his office, his mind filled with a storm of emotions—rage, fear for his parents, and a determination to end Grayson’s game.Elena sat nearby, watching him with worried eyes.“Oliver, you’ve barely eaten all day,” she said softly, holding a plate of food she had brought him. “You need to stay strong.”“I can’t eat, Elena,” Oliver replied, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Not until I know they’re safe.”She sighed and set the plate on his desk.“You won’t be able to fight Grayson if you’re weak.”Oliver stopped pacing and looked at her, his expression softening.“You’re right,” he admitted, pulling out the chair and sitting down. “But this isn’t just about strength. It’s personal. That man dared to touch my family.”Elena placed her hand on his.“I know. But you can’t let your anger cloud your judgment. You’
Back at the villa, Oliver’s parents settled into the warmth of their home, but the tension of the night lingered.Elena brewed a pot of tea, her movements quick and precise as if she could chase away the fear that still hung in the air.Oliver stood by the large bay window, his gaze fixed on the horizon, though his mind was far from the serene view.“Oliver,” his mother called softly, pulling him from his thoughts.She approached him, her frail hand reaching for his arm. You saved us. You risked so much... but are you truly safe now?”He turned to face her, his expression tender yet determined.“I’m always safe as long as I know you and Dad are okay.”His father, sitting upright in a chair despite his exhaustion, cleared his throat.“Don’t brush off her concern, son. Grayson is just the beginning. A man like him doesn’t act alone.”Oliver nodded, his jaw tightening.“I’m aware, Dad. I’ll handle whatever comes next.”Elena entered the room with a tray of steaming mugs.“And you won’t
The villa was eerily quiet that night.The kind of silence that hinted at something brewing beneath the surface.Oliver sat in his study, the amber glow of the desk lamp illuminating the papers spread before him. Financial reports, security updates, and a dossier on David’s known associates stared back at him, but his mind wasn’t on them.A soft knock on the door broke his concentration. He glanced up to see Elena standing in the doorway, a steaming mug in her hand.“You’ve been in here for hours,” she said gently, walking over and placing the mug beside him. “It’s late, Oliver. Come to bed.”“I can’t,” he replied, rubbing his temples. “Not yet. There are too many loose ends.”Elena pulled up a chair beside him, her concerned eyes scanning his face.“David’s gone. What more needs to be done?”“It’s not just David,” Oliver admitted, leaning back in his chair. “The network he built—the alliances he formed—they’re still out there. And Grayson wasn’t working alone either. There’s someone
The villa stood in an unusual calm the next morning, its silence deceptive. Oliver was seated on the terrace, sipping his coffee while scanning the latest intelligence reports.Elena joined him shortly, holding her own cup.The soft morning sunlight fell on her face, but her expression was far from serene.“Any updates?” she asked, sitting beside him.“None worth celebrating,” Oliver replied, placing the report down. “Maverick’s arrest gave us some leads, but they’ve hit a dead end. Whoever’s behind him is more careful, more calculated.”Before Elena could respond, Oliver’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and frowned.The call was from an unknown number. Hesitating for only a moment, he answered.“Roberts,” he said curtly.A smooth, unfamiliar voice replied, dripping with mockery.“Ah, Oliver Roberts. The man who toppled empires and sleeps soundly in his ivory tower.”“Who is this?” Oliver demanded, his voice sharp.“You may call me Lucian,” the man said, his tone