2025-01-03 02:24:15After a long, exhausting day, Oliver collapsed onto the bed. The room was quiet, with dark red walls and a fire crackling softly in the corner.
He couldn't help but think about how surreal it all felt, like his life had shifted in an instant from chaos to comfort. It was hard to believe that everything had changed so quickly, but for now, he let himself relax into the moment.
He lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, trying to process it all. Just weeks ago, his life was full of struggles, and now he was here, in this big, beautiful room, with everything he’d ever wanted.
For the first time in a long time, he felt safe, like he was finally in control of his life. With that thought, his eyelids grew heavy, and he fell into a deep sleep, feeling completely at peace.
The next morning, a knock on the door pulled him from his sleep. He groggily opened his eyes, and before he could even say anything, his mom walked in, looking as confident as ever.
“Good morning, son. Did you sleep okay?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
She gave him a quick, proud look before her face turned serious. “Good. But it’s time to get up now. We have work to do.”
“It’s time to show everyone who you are. You’re my heir, my son. You’re not some nobody. The world needs to know that.”
“You've been treated like trash for too long, but no more. We’re going to the company this morning, and we’re taking control. You’re going to show them exactly who you are and what you deserve.”
She turned to leave, giving him one last look. “Get ready, son. Today, everything changes.”
Oliver quickly got dressed. When he stepped out, James was already there, calmly waiting for him. He gave a small bow and said, “Ready when you are, sir.”
Oliver nodded, feeling a little bit nervous and excited.
He followed James through the hallway, still processing everything. As they stepped into the garage, his jaw nearly hit the floor in astonishment.
Rows of cars, polished to perfection, lined up like they were part of some fancy showroom.
He had always loved cars, but this was something else entirely. The cars were spotless, shining so brightly that he could see his own reflection in them.
He couldn't help but stop and stare at a sleek Rolls-Royce sitting right in front of him. It was far more impressive than the one they’d ridden in the day before. He was completely blown away.
“Wow, James,” Oliver muttered, still in awe. “This... this is insane. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
James smiled, obviously used to Oliver’s reaction. “It’s quite something, isn’t it, sir?”
Oliver shook his head, still not believing what he was seeing.
“I mean... this car’s like a work of art. I can’t even imagine driving it.”
James nodded, then asked with a small chuckle, “Would you prefer another one, sir? We have plenty of options.”
Oliver looked at the Rolls-Royce again, his eyes wide. “No way. This one’s perfect. I don’t think you could pick a better car. This... this is the one.”
James gave a knowing nod. “Very well, sir. Excellent choice.”
Oliver gave the car one last look, feeling both amazed and a little overwhelmed. Today was going to be a lot, but for now, he was going to enjoy this moment of luxury.
As they climbed into the Rolls-Royce, Oliver couldn’t help but take in the interior. It was beyond anything he could have imagined. Soft leather seats, smooth wood paneling, and even a mini fridge.
He adjusted himself nervously in his seat, his hands a bit sweaty. “I don’t know, James… this feels so... unreal.”
James chuckled, glancing over at him. “Don’t worry, sir. You’ll get used to this kind of opulence soon enough.”
Oliver nodded but couldn’t stop stealing glances at everything around him.
They arrived at the mighty Mediacorp building, but something was off today. The air felt charged, like the calm before a storm. Oliver knew today wasn’t going to be like the other days. Today, everything was about to change.
As they walked inside, they were met by Veronica, the receptionist. She barely even looked up from her phone, her fingers scrolling with quick precision.
She had that look, the kind of person who clearly spent more time perfecting her image in front of the mirror than actually doing her job.
She didn’t even bother to greet them. Just a quick, uninterested glance in their direction before her attention returned to whatever trivial thing had her so absorbed.
When she saw Oliver, her expression immediately soured.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the little loser who thinks he belongs here,” she sneered, flipping her hair dramatically.
“Didn’t I make it clear yesterday that you were fired?”
Oliver’s blood boiled, but he bit back the anger. He knew getting upset would only make him look worse. Instead, he stayed calm, though his hands were clenched.
“Listen, I’m here to speak to the director directly,” Oliver said firmly, trying to keep his cool.
Veronica scoffed loudly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Oh, sure, you want to see the director?” She smirked.
“Maybe you should try dressing like you actually belong here first.”
Meanwhile, James stood still beside Oliver, observing the scene with quiet detachment. He wasn’t rushing to intervene, letting Oliver handle things as he saw fit. But Veronica wasn’t done yet.
“You’re a joke,” she sneered, her eyes scanning Oliver dismissively. “And so is your... what, your bodyguard?” She chuckled. “What a pair.”
She spat, glancing at James with a smirk. “I’m going to make it crystal clear. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have you both thrown out by security. You’re not welcome here, not now, not ever.”
Oliver stood tall, trying to maintain control of the situation. He wasn’t going to let her rattle him.
James, with his usual calm demeanor, spoke up, “Actually, madam, I’m the butler to the Madam President.”
Veronica’s eyes flicked over to James for a second but then just laughed, turning her attention back to Oliver.
“Oh, great! You’ve got a butler, and what else? Maybe that’ll make you important. Newsflash: nobody cares!”
Her mocking laughter echoed around the lobby. “Now get out, or I’ll make sure security deals with you both."
"And you," she sneered at James, "don’t think I won’t have you thrown out with him. You’re wasting my time.”
James' face hardened as Veronica kept running her mouth.
He stood there, calm but seething inside. He wasn’t going to let her disrespect them any longer. With a sharp motion, he pulled out his phone and dialed quickly.
Veronica, still yapping away, didn’t even notice.
“Oh, please! You think making a phone call is going to change anything? You’re both beneath me. Go cry to your boss or whoever else you think cares.”
James ignored her. When the phone picked up, he spoke with quiet authority, his voice smooth but firm.
"I’m at the reception. They’re refusing to let us in. Yes, right now.”
After the call, James hung up and leaned on the desk, his anger barely contained. The sharp tap of his shoe against the tiles echoed ominously, each strike a silent threat.
His patience was running out, and it was clear danger was looming.
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Veronica still sneered at him. "What, you think you’re going to get me scared with that dummy call? You’ll regret this. I’ll have you both kicked out so fast—”But James didn’t respond. He just stared at her, his posture still calm, but the tension in his shoulders said it all. The game was over.Less than a minute later, the elevator dinged open, and a man quickly rushed toward them. He was tall, sharp-looking, with a neat suit and a no-nonsense vibe.His tie was crisp, his expression focused, and his pace was quick, like someone who was used to handling business fast.As soon as the receptionist saw him, she straightened up and tried to greet him, “Good morning, Director Montgomery.”But he didn’t even spare her a glance. He went straight to James, his eyes cold and professional.James, watching the whole scene, couldn’t help but mutter sarcastically, “Well, looks like Mediacorp has top-notch management here.” His voice oozed with irony.Veronica, still smirking, turned to the direc
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James’s voice was steady, yet it carried a weight that silenced the room.“Which is why Madam President has decided,” he said, his words deliberate and sharp, “to place her son, Mr. Oliver Donovan, at the helm of affairs at this company.”He gestured toward Oliver, who stood straight, his gaze unwavering. The room felt like it had lost all air as James delivered the news.Director Montgomery’s expression shifted dramatically. His face fell, his eyes wide with shock, confusion, and an underlying fear.His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled, the bitterness of the moment evident in every syllable.“I… I’ve run this company for fifteen years,” he began, the words tasting like ash.“Fifteen years of dedication, of tireless work. Have I done something wrong? If I’ve failed in any way, I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right—just tell me what it is!”James raised a hand, cutting him off sharply, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.“
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Oliver continued, his tone sharpening. “A toxic atmosphere doesn’t just appear out of nowhere, Mr. Montgomery. It thrives in the absence of accountability, in the shadow of weak leadership.You allowed this. You encouraged it, even if indirectly. That is the truth, isn’t it?”Montgomery’s face twisted in a mixture of shame and regret. His voice wavered as he admitted, “You’re right, Mr. Donovan. I… I’ve failed in my duties as director. I should have been more vigilant, more in control.""I allowed the wrong people to shape the culture of this company. For that, I take full responsibility.”Oliver leaned forward slightly, his presence commanding.“Responsibility is one thing. Action is another. If you’re truly willing to adjust, to prove you still have a place here, then it starts with earning back the trust of those who have lost faith in you. Myself included.”Montgomery nodded vigorously, desperation creeping into his voice.“I’ll do whatever it takes, sir. Whatever you need from me
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Oliver hesitated, every part of him screaming to decline the invitation, but something inside him shifted. With a reluctant sigh, he finally gave in.“I don’t know, Ethan. You know I’m not really the socializing type.”Ethan wasn’t having it.“Come on, Ollie. It’ll be fun. You need a break, and honestly, I’ll be there. You know I’ll make sure it’s not some awkward trip down memory lane. Just think about it.”Oliver sighed, glancing out the window as the car rolled to a stop at a red light. He could already picture the glitzy crowd, the forced smiles, the questions about his life. But Ethan’s presence changed things.“You’ll be there?” Oliver asked, his tone cautious.“Of course,” Ethan said firmly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And it wouldn’t feel right without you there."A small smile tugged at Oliver’s lips despite himself.“Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll come. But only because you’ll be there.”Ethan laughed. “That’s the spirit! 7 p.m., Grand Arcadia Hotel. Don’t be late,
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Ethan, who had been watching from the sidelines, finally stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his voice firm but calm.Marcus turned to him, smirking. “Oh, look, his little bodyguard. What are you going to do, Ethan? Cry for him?”Ethan didn’t waver. “I don’t need to do anything. Oliver’s more of a man than you’ll ever be, Marcus. That’s why he doesn’t need to stoop to your level.”Marcus and his lackeys, still eager to humiliate Oliver, adjusted their suits with exaggerated flair. They leaned back, flashing their expensive watches as if they were trophies.“Oh, Oliver,” Marcus began, his smirk returning. “Since we’re all catching up, let me remind you who you’re dealing with.""I’m Marcus Grant, head of operations at Grant Industries. Ever heard of it? Of course, you haven’t. It’s probably out of your league.”One of his cronies, a tall man with slicked-back hair, chimed in. “And I’m Jason. Regional manager at Lexor Enterprises. You know, the kind of place that requires tal
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The room laughed, but Oliver, who had been observing from the sidelines, felt the familiar weight of disdain. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting their arrogant display wash over him without a word.The MC motioned for silence. “Next, we have a different kind of recognition this evening. It’s time for our fundraiser. As you know, this event isn’t just about catching up—it’s about giving back.”A box was placed at the center of the room, with people starting to make donations through their phones, transferring money to the cause.But it was clear the fundraiser was almost an afterthought, a distraction to the real spectacle of the evening: the self-congratulation of those at the top.Oliver watched from a distance, alone, away from the crowds. The evening was becoming a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and empty promises.Even Ethan, who had invited him, was deep in conversation with old friends, too caught up in his own fun to notice Oliver retreating into himself.Th
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The hall erupted with applause as Marcus was announced the highest donor. He strutted to the stage, his every step oozing arrogance.He adjusted his blazer dramatically, letting the room take in his polished presence. Gripping the microphone, he smirked before speaking."First of all, thank you for this honor," Marcus began, his voice dripping with self-importance. "It’s moments like these that remind us how far we’ve come… well, some of us."He shot a glance in Oliver’s direction, his jab sharp and deliberate."Not everyone can rise above their circumstances, after all." Laughter rippled through the room, spurred on by his cronies and some of the teachers.Marcus continued, "Success isn’t just handed to you. It takes hard work, vision, and, let’s be honest, a bit of natural talent. Some people here might not understand that, but hey, not everyone’s cut out for greatness."Oliver sat in his corner, his face unreadable, but the tension was palpable. The jabs became sharper, and Marcus
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As the tension in the bank reached its boiling point, the crowd's skepticism toward Oliver was palpable. Mocking comments, sneers, and the occasional jeer could be heard as people prepared to witness what they believed would be Oliver’s inevitable humiliation. Fueled by the man's relentless taunts, the crowd was growing increasingly rowdy, with onlookers closing in to watch the drama unfold.Just as the noise escalated into a near ruckus, a calm yet authoritative voice cut through the chaos, silencing the clamor. Heads turned as the source of the voice emerged from the crowd. A middle-aged man in a sharp suit, carrying an air of authority, walked briskly toward the commotion. His brow furrowed with surprise and disapproval as he took in the chaotic scene around him.It was the bank manager.Immediately, the employee who had been leading the charge against Oliver, along with the two security guards, straightened up, their faces lighting up with a mixture of relief and anticipation.
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Oliver replied, his voice edged with a mix of anger and frustration. "This isn't about pretense or trying to impress anyone. It's about class—and class is earned based on contribution to society, something I don’t expect you to know anything about." He shot the man a sharp look, his patience wearing thin.As Oliver’s words hung in the air, the crowd’s reactions immediately followed, sparking a flurry of murmurs and amusing comments."Contribution to society? What’s he even talking about?""Look at him, acting like some big shot. What’s he done for anyone?""Bet his ‘contributions’ are as fake as that card!"A middle-aged man near the back chuckled sarcastically, "Oh, please, this guy? Contributing? More like he’s contributing to wasting our time."Another voice piped up, "Probably donated his old clothes to a thrift store and thinks he’s saving the world."The well-dressed woman from earlier sneered, "This is just embarrassing. What kind of contribution could he possibly be talking a
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As Oliver's words lingered in the air, murmurs spread among the queue of onlookers. Intrigued by his claim of being an SVIP, they began making snide remarks under their breath."SVIP? Ha, in those clothes?" a man in a tailored grey suit scoffed, adjusting his expensive watch. "He looks like he can’t even afford lunch, let alone hold a VIP status.""Is he out of his mind?" a woman in a sleek red dress muttered, rolling her eyes. "This isn't some backstreet store where you can play pretend.""Honestly, the nerve of some people," another person added, clearly irritated. "We’ve all been waiting in line, and now this guy wants special treatment?"The employee, emboldened by the growing discontent from the crowd, let out a derisive laugh. Her mocking tone cut through the noise. "Sir, I suggest you leave now before we’re forced to take more serious measures against you." Her eyes gleamed with the thrill of asserting authority, and her words carried a veiled threat.As if on cue, two fierce-
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A few days later, In the middle of a stressful morning at work, Oliver decided he needed a break. His mind had been racing with problems and new developments from the news from luminary Industries, and unwinding with some food seemed like a good way to clear his headHe drove to a nearby restaurant, the streets quiet compared to the chaos inside his mind. Just as he was nearing the restaurant, his phone chimed.He glanced at the screen, a message. It was from the orphanage, a gentle reminder about the upcoming fundraiser. A flicker of warmth spread through him as he recalled his recent visit.After enjoying a meal at the restaurant, the urge to make sure everything was in place for the orphanage event nagged at him. He decided to stop by the bank to withdraw some cash, not just for the fundraiser but for his own expenses as well. His focus shifted to the task at hand, and he drove straight to "Imperial Trust Bank," a high-end international financial institution renowned for its exclu
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Lila's face turned a deep shade of red, her anger bubbling to the surface. She opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out. The sting of Anita's words cut deep, leaving her seething with rage and embarrassment. She could only watch, helpless and fuming, as Oliver and Anita walked away, leaving her and her companion in the wreckage of their shattered pride.As they exited the store, Oliver couldn't help but relish in the moment. The bewilderment, the disbelief, the raw anger—it all gave him goosebumps. He smiled to himself, satisfied that he had once again proven his doubters wrong. With Anita by his side and the memory of Lila's stunned expression etched in his mind, Oliver felt a sense of triumph that would stay with him for a long time.As Oliver drove through the city streets, the sun was beginning to set, he had just dropped Anita off at her house, and as he headed back home, he found his thoughts drifting. The day had been a whirlwind of unexpected events, and he felt th
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The air in the room seemed to grow heavier as the final figure was announced. Lila’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind reeling at the sheer audacity of it all. How could this be happening? Oliver was supposed to be the pauper here, the one barely scraping by, not the one making extravagant purchases without a second thought.Meanwhile, Anita’s smile grew even wider, a mix of disbelief and glee painted across her face. To her, it felt as though she had won the jackpot, her wildest dreams unfolding right before her eyes.Oliver, however, merely smiled sheepishly, his calm demeanor unshaken by the staggering total. He turned to Anita and said, "I hope you’re satisfied with your picks. Let’s get these wrapped up."At the same time, When the assistant called out the total—$350,000—the shock on Lila and her companion’s faces was almost palpable. Lila’s eyes widened in disbelief, her carefully calculated confidence beginning to unravel as she processed the staggering figure. The man bes
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Lila and her companion stood frozen, their eyes locked on Oliver. The confidence with which he moved, the calm in his demeanor, and the absolute lack of fear in his voice were all completely at odds with the image of him they had clung to for so long. Every word he spoke, every action he took seemed to defy the expectations they had so carefully built around him.Lila's breath hitched as she watched Anita wheel the overflowing cart towards the register. Her gaze darted to the items, her mind racing as she tried to calculate the worth of everything piled inside. Her heart sank as the numbers began to add up—thousands upon thousands of dollars. The realization was like a punch to the gut. Could this really be happening? Could Oliver, the man she had always considered beneath her, actually afford this?For years, Lila had carried a deep-seated belief that Oliver was a nobody, someone to be mocked and dismissed. But that belief was now crumbling under the weight of what she was witnessi
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Oliver let out a calm smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as a cold expression settled on his face. "You're right, why won't I?" he responded, his tone icy and composed.Lila's scorn was unmistakable. She threw her head back and let out a sarcastic laugh, her eyes gleaming with mockery. "Really? Oliver afford a bag this much?" she sneered, her gaze landing on the $89,000 price tag of the bag Anita had been eyeing earlier. "You? A pauper like you? Trying to level up so bad—it’s laughable!"She continued, "You’re in way over your head, Oliver. You’re just digging your own grave, pretending to be something you're not. This is going to put you in serious trouble one day, mark my words."Her words dripped with disdain, but beneath her confident exterior, a seed of unease began to sprout. She couldn’t shake the memories of her past encounters with Oliver. She recalled their run-in at the Luxor Hotel—how she had expected him to be exposed as a fraud or a thief, yet, to her bewilderment, he h
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The words hit Lila like a slap to the face. Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in fury, her face flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment. For a moment, she was rendered speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find a retort. But soon, the anger boiled over, and she exploded into a furious rant."You—how dare you!" she sputtered, her voice rising in pitch. "You think you can talk to me like that? Do you know who I am? I’ve got more class in my little finger than you’ll ever have! Those bags—those bags are worth more than anything you’ll ever touch! You’re nothing but a lowlife, a pathetic little con man who can’t afford even a scrap of what I have!"Lila’s face contorted with rage, her voice dripping with venom as she continued to rant, her words becoming more disjointed and desperate as she tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation. "You’re the joke here, Oliver! A joke! And as for you," she spat, turning her glare towards Anita,
