The Ruthless Billionaire

Chapter 9

Oliver's hands trembled as he stared at the card, still trying to process everything. His heart swelled with gratitude, and without thinking, he dropped to his knees before Madam President.

"Mom, I don’t even know how to thank you. You’ve done so much for me already. I don’t deserve this."

But she immediately stepped forward and gently pulled him up.

"Oliver, no! Don’t kneel before me. Stand tall. You’re my son, and there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you. If anything, I should be the one thanking you. You’ve restored the joy of motherhood to me—something I thought I had lost forever. You being here is a blessing I never expected."

Oliver, overwhelmed by emotion, said softly, "I… I don’t even know what to say. Everything is happening so fast. This feels like a dream."

Madam President smiled warmly, tears glistening in her eyes. "Then don’t say anything, my son. Just know that you are home now, where you belong. This is your life, Oliver, and I will do everything in my power to make up for all the time we’ve lost."

She reached out, pulling him into a hug to reassure him, but just as her arms were about to wrap around him, Oliver’s phone buzzed loudly.

The ringing broke the emotional moment. Oliver hesitated, pulling out his phone. A cold chill ran down his spine when he saw the caller ID.

It was the receptionist from his workplace—the same rude, condescending woman who had been a constant thorn in his side.

Reluctantly, he answered, "Hello?"

Her sharp, rude voice came through instantly. "Oliver, where on earth are you? You’ve got a desk full of unfinished tasks, and the boss is furious. Do you even care about this job? Or are you too busy being your usual useless self?"

Oliver’s heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening around the phone. It was as if all the confidence he had just gained momentarily faltered under her harsh tone. His mother noticed the change in his expression and immediately leaned closer, concerned.

Oliver took a shaky breath, trying to explain. "I—I was attacked… It wasn’t intentional. I’m still recovering—"

She cut him off with a laugh dripping in mockery.

"Attacked? Spare me your sob stories. You’ve always been a liability, Oliver. That’s why no one here respects you. And just so you know, you shouldn’t even bother coming back to the office."

His heart sank. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean, your termination letter is already waiting for you," she said coldly. "I’m just giving you a heads-up because I’m feeling generous. Honestly, you should’ve just died. You being alive doesn’t change anything. You’re still worthless."

Oliver froze, his grip tightening on the phone. Before he could say anything, the line went dead.

For a moment, he stared at the screen in silence, his mind spinning. He couldn’t believe the cruelty of her words.

Madam President, who had been watching intently, noticed the change in his expression. "Oliver," she said firmly, her voice laced with concern. "What did she say to you?"

Oliver hesitated, but the pain in his eyes gave him away.

"She… she said I shouldn’t bother going back to work. That I’ve already been terminated. And…" His voice cracked as he recalled her final words. "She said I should’ve just died because it wouldn’t make a difference."

The room fell silent, but the air grew thick with tension. Madam President's body stiffened, her hands clenching into fists. Her face turned as cold as stone, her eyes blazing with fury. "She said what?"

"Mom, it’s okay," Oliver began, trying to calm her down. "It doesn’t matter."

But her anger was like a storm brewing. "It doesn’t matter?!" she snapped.

"Who does that little nobody think she is, speaking to my son like that?!" Her voice grew louder with each word, her composure slipping. "How dare they? How dare they treat you this way!"

She stood up, pacing the room like a lioness ready to pounce. "They have no idea who they’re messing with. No one, and I mean no one, insults my son and gets away with it."

"Mom, please," Oliver pleaded, feeling overwhelmed. "It’s not worth it. Let’s just leave it alone."

But Madam President stopped, turning to face him with a fierce determination in her eyes.

"No, Oliver. I won’t let them get away with this. They think they can crush you, humiliate you, and walk away unscathed? They’ll regret the day they dared to cross you."

Her voice softened slightly as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But don’t let this ruin your mood. They’re nothing compared to what you’re about to become. You’ve stepped into a life where people like that are irrelevant. You’ll see. Soon, they’ll be begging to be in your good graces."

Just as Oliver was beginning to process his mother’s words, his phone rang again. Hesitant, he glanced at the screen and saw the name of his boss flashing. His stomach dropped, and his hands trembled as he answered the call.

Before he could even say hello, his boss’s furious voice boomed through the speaker. "Oliver! How dare you?!"

"B-boss, I—" Oliver stammered.

"Don’t you dare speak! I’ve had enough of your incompetence. Disappearing without notice? Skipping work? Do you think we run a charity here for useless employees like you?"

Oliver’s face burned with shame as the tirade continued. "You’ve embarrassed this company for the last time, you hear me? If I ever see your face near my office again, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. You’re nothing but a liability, and we don’t tolerate liabilities."

Oliver tried to interject. "Sir, please, I was—"

"Save it!" his boss barked. "Consider yourself blacklisted. No company worth anything will ever hire you. You’re finished, Oliver. Do you understand me? Finished!"

Before Oliver could respond, the line went dead. He stared at the phone, his breathing unsteady. The insults echoed in his mind, reopening the wounds he thought had just begun to heal.

"Who was that?" She asked sharply, noticing the stricken look on his face.

Oliver hesitated, but her piercing gaze urged him to answer. "It was my boss," he muttered. "He... he threatened to have me locked up if I ever go near the company again."

Her eyes narrowed. "Wait a moment. Is this the same company I own? The one under my conglomerate?"

Oliver nodded slowly, the realization dawning on him. "Yes, it’s the same one."

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Isabella’s expression darkened, her anger radiating like a storm. Her voice, low and dangerous, sent a chill down Oliver’s spine.

"So someone in my company had the audacity to insult my son like that? To threaten him? To blackmail him?!"

Oliver tried to calm her. "Mom, please, it’s not worth it—"

But she was already pacing, her fury boiling over. "Not worth it? Oh, it’s worth it. They’ve crossed the line, Oliver. No one treats my family this way and gets away with it."

Her voice rang with authority as she turned to the butler, who was seated nearby on the couch. "James," she said, her tone sharp.

The butler immediately rose and approached her. "Yes, ma’am?"

She gestured towards Oliver with a protective yet commanding air.

"I want the management of that company replaced immediately. Every single one of them. I don’t care what it takes—clear out the lot of them. And I want my son, Oliver, to take over as the head of the organization. Effective today."

James gave a small bow, his expression calm but firm. "Understood, ma’am. I’ll see to it right away."

Oliver stared at her, stunned. "Mom, you don’t have to do all this—"

She cut him off, her voice softening but still filled with determination. "Yes, I do, Oliver. You’ve been humiliated enough. It’s time the world sees you for who you really are—the heir to this family’s empire. No one will ever speak to you like that again."

James nodded once more and left the room, his steps quick and purposeful. Madam President turned back to Oliver, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You’ve endured enough. Now, it’s your turn to rise."