Joe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "A Maybach, 500 million dollars, and a penthouse in London?" Joe repeated, his voice was filled with shock.The lawyer nodded, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s correct. This is the part of the benefits of your inheritance.”“Personal benefits, if you ask me.” Joe stared at the stack of papers in front of him, the pen in his hand feeling heavier than it should. He had come from nothing, from a life of struggle, and now here he was, seconds away from signing a contract that would make him one of the wealthiest men in the world."Are you going to sign or not?" Mr. Adam’s voice cut through his thoughts.Joe hesitated for a moment, the weight of what he was about to do sinking in. But then he thought of Lady Penelope’s words, the encouragement she had given him the night before. ‘You can make a difference with this inheritance. You can expose the bad people and do something good.’Her voice echoed in his mind, giving
“This is fucking insane!” Joe exclaimed as they pulled up to the massive warehouse. It wasn’t what he had imagined—it was far more impressive. Cars of every make and model lined the walls that gleamed under the warehouse's overhead lights.Joe couldn't contain his excitement as he stepped out of the car.“I can’t believe this place,” Joe murmured to himself.Just as he was about to approach one of the cars, a tall man in a sharp suit appeared out of nowhere. He had a stern expression. “This is private property. You have no business being here.” He snapped.Joe blinked, a little taken aback by the man’s words. “Uh... actually, my father owns this place,” Joe replied, trying to stand his ground, but the man gave him a skeptical once-over, clearly not buying it.Before Joe could say anything further, Timothy stepped forward. “This is the latest heir to the Whitmore empire,” he announced.The man’s stern look didn’t change. He crossed his arms over his chest.“And I am the prime minis
Joe stepped into his father’s company on Monday, with anxiety taking over his mind at each step he took.Before he had a chance to collect his thoughts, a sharply dressed man approached him with a wide smile.“Is he the one?” His eyes moved from Mr.Adam who was standing behind then it returned to Joe.“Yes.” Mr. Adam said. “The new owner of the Whitmore empire.”"Mr. Whitmore," the man said, extending his hand. "I’m Jeremy, your father’s assistant and I’m going to be yours. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. If you'll follow me, I’ll show you around."Joe nodded. Jeremy led him through the lobby, pointing out various areas."This is the reception, obviously, and over there is the entrance to the executive wing," Jeremy explained as they walked. "You’ll have access to all of these areas, of course."As they passed by the reception desk, Joe caught the eye of a lanky woman with dark curls framing her face. She flashed him a warm smile, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than ne
“Joe!” Mr Adam said in a bold tone. He turned to Mr. Adam and walked in his direction. Mr. Adam was about to say more words, but Joe beat him to it. “Did you see that man over there?” Joe asked once he got closer. “He’s the same man I saw when I was trying to save Jerry. I have a feeling he came for me.” Mr. Adam’s expression changed as he glanced at Joe. “You don’t need to worry, Joe. You’re safe. The man isn’t here for you.” He said Joe furrowed his brow, not satisfied with the answer. “Then what’s he here for? If he’s not here for me?” Joe asked in a confused tone. Mr. Adam's gaze flickered, displaying something Joe couldn't quite place. “It’s nothing, Joe. Don’t overthink it. Some things are better left unsaid.” Joe’s suspicion grew. He crossed his arms as he stared deeply into Mr. Adam’s eyes. “Are you hiding something from me, Mr. Adam? “ he spoke up. “I would repeat my words. Some things are better left unsaid.” Mr. Adam said in a firm tone. “I want an
Joe’s car pulled up to the grand entrance of the charity ball. The building was massive, with glowing chandeliers visible even from the outside. As the driver opened Joe’s door, he took a deep breath. "Are you ready for this?" Mr. Adam asked from the front seat. Joe turned to look at him, adjusting his suit. It was brand new and felt like the most expensive thing he’d ever worn. “Yes,” Joe said with an edgy tone. He was still a bit angry at Mr.Adam. "Good luck," Mr. Adam said. "I’ll be waiting around in the car if you need anything." Joe hesitated for a moment. "I haven’t forgotten about yesterday’s conversation." Mr. Adam’s expression darkened slightly. "It’s high time you forget, Joe. Focus on tonight." Joe didn’t respond. He stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air. As he walked toward the entrance, he adjusted his suit once more. At the gate, a man with a name tag stopped him. "Name, sir?" "Mr. Whitmore," Joe said firmly. The man straightened,
"The media is going wild!" Jeremy yelled as he burst through Joe’s office door the next day. "Everyone is talking about your encounter with Aaron White last night. It’s all over the news." Joe leaned back in his father’s leather chair, twirling slightly as he let the words sink in. "Is it good or bad?" Mr.Adam asked. Jeremy grinned. "Oh, it’s good! Everyone wants to know more about Joe Whitmore, the heir to the Whitmore fortune. They want to get up close and personal, and Cherry has been handling calls all morning from top executives wanting to fix meetings with you." Joe blinked, surprised. "Wow." "Wow, is right!" Jeremy said, clearly more excited than even Joe. "We’ve never seen this kind of response before. The buzz is incredible!" Just as Jeremy was speaking, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then quickly excused himself. "Cherry’s calling. I’ll be right back!" As Jeremy dashed out of the room, Mr Adam stepped forward and looked at Joe, a rare smile tuggi
Joe stepped outside, blinking against the harsh sunlight. The murmuring crowd immediately drew his attention. Mr. Adam was standing near the gate, he looked frustrated. “Miss, this is private property!” Mr. Adam said. “You can’t be doing this here!” Joe frowned, walking closer to the scene. His presence quickly caught Mr. Adam’s attention. “I can handle this,” Joe said calmly. Mr. Adam glanced at him, and he looked doubtful. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Adam muttered, shaking his head. “This could turn ugly.” Joe took a breath and put a hand on Mr. Adam’s shoulder. “Trust me,” he said firmly. Mr. Adam didn’t look convinced but stepped aside reluctantly. The minute Joe moved forward his eyes landed on Rosie. “There he is!” she shouted. “The man of the hour—the betrayer!” Joe’s chest tightened. Rosie. He hadn’t seen her in months, but here she was, standing at the forefront of a group of women, looking more furious than ever. “Rosie,” Joe spoke up. “What is thi
Mr. Adam walked into Joe’s office,several hours later. Joe’s eyes immediately shifted to him. He was eager to know how things had turned out with Rosie. "How did it go?" Joe asked. He leaned back in his chair, trying to appear calm, but his fingers drummed impatiently on the armrests. Mr. Adam sighed deeply before speaking. "I managed to get her to leave," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "But before she left, she called the media. They showed up just as I was getting her off the property. She's up to something, Joe." Joe's eyes narrowed. "I know," he said quietly. "She's always up to something.” “I regret having something to do with her.” Joe added,with a grim tone. Mr. Adam crossed his arms as he leaned against the edge of the desk. "So, what’s the plan? How do you intend to handle this?" Joe glanced out the window for a moment, watching as the sun started to descend. After a long pause, he looked back at Mr. Adam. "I don’t know yet but I will find a way to take c
The car rolled to a quiet stop, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the neighborhood. Rusty buildings lined the empty streets. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the occasional shuffle of rats scurrying through the debris. Joe sat in the passenger seat, his brows furrowed as he stared out at the scene in front of him. “This doesn’t look safe,” Joe muttered under his breath. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” John, sitting behind the wheel, didn’t look half as worried. He leaned back in his seat, a small smirk playing on his lips. “What, are you scared?” he teased. Joe shot him an annoyed look. “I feel like I’ve walked into the lion’s den. Don’t you think we’re being a little reckless?” John waved off the concern with a hand. “Relax, Joe. Nothing’s going to happen. Besides, if you’re scared, you can stay in the car. Hide out here while I do all the work.” Joe narrowed his eyes. “I’m not staying in the car. That’s not happening.” John chuckled
Joe stared at the screen, as his hands moved swiftly across his screen. Once the message was sent he turned to John. “Done!” John smiled. “Good!” “What do we do now?” Joe asked. “We wait for his reply.” John said, in a low tone. John sighed, staring at the open sky. Him and John didn’t say anything, for what felt like minutes until John decided to break the silence. “Any messages?” Joe pulled out his phone which he had kept in his pocket. The dim light from his phone screen illuminated his face as he stared at the message he had sent to Victor minutes ago. Victor hadn’t replied the text and Joe informed John about it. “We would just have to wait a little.” John said. Minutes passed. Then half an hour. Still no reply. Joe sighed and tossed his phone into his pocket , rubbing his temples. “Any word yet?” John’s voice rose. Joe shook his head, glancing up at him. “No. Nothing.” John folded his arms, leaning forward , before speaking. “Well, you texted him. That’s a fir
“So, where exactly are we going?” Joe asked, in a firm tone John kept his eyes on the road, gripping the wheel confidently. “You’ll see.” Joe frowned slightly, shifting in his seat. “You’ve been driving for almost an hour, John. You took the wheel like you had somewhere specific in mind.” John smirked faintly but didn’t look at him. “I do.” “And where is that?” Joe pressed, turning his head toward him. John’s jaw twitched as though he was mulling over his response. “Just wait and see how.” Joe let out a small, tired laugh. “I don’t think I have that patient.” “Well, too bad,” John said firmly. “It looks like you’re going to have to acquire a bit of patience today.” Joe shook his head, staring back out the window. “This is worse than standing in line for ice-cream.” “What a nice way to describe this moment,” John said in a corky tone and Joe wasn’t buying his corkiness in fact he didn’t like it, but he didn’t say anything. The car kept rolling, and it felt like they were dri
When Joe rounded the corner, the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. Mr. Adam was there, sleeves rolled up, fists bloodied. Two men—beaten to a pulp—were slumped against the wall, barely conscious. Mr. Adam’s face was a storm of fury as he grabbed one of them by the collar and hoisted him up, delivering another brutal punch to his ribs. The man cried out, while his companion looked on with fear in his eyes. “Mr. Adam!” Joe shouted, stepping forward. “That’s enough!” Mr. Adam didn’t look up, his chest heaving as he pinned the man against the wall with one arm. “Stay out of this, Joe,” he growled. “I’m not done.” Joe, undeterred, moved closer. “I said enough!Look at them! They’re done. You’re going to kill them if you keep this up.” Mr. Adam finally turned his head toward Joe. “Maybe that’s what they deserve.” Joe stood his ground, his voice was firm as he spoke. “They’re just pawns, Adam. This isn’t going to solve anything.” Mr. Adam released the man, who dropp
The days leading up to the launch party for Joe’s new corporation were filled with relentless work, late nights, and endless planning. The fact that things had been stable contributed to making Joe’s planning easier. There were no threats, no near misses, and no weird messages. Life, for a brief moment, felt… calm. This made Joe feel relaxed. A day before the launch, Joe and John drove to the new corp’s headquarters to finalize preparations. The building itself was modern and striking—sleek lines of glass and steel that gleamed in the sunlight. As Joe stepped out of the car, his gaze swept across the building, and a rare smile tugged at his lips. John stood beside him, hands in his pockets, and observed Joe’s quiet pride. “You know,” John began, breaking the silence, “your father would be proud.” Joe turned to him, a small laugh escaping. “You think so?” “Yeah,” John said sincerely. “Not just proud, Joe—he’d be impressed. You’re doing something he never could. You’re tur
The day of John’s mother’s remembrance was quiet and intimate, just as John had wanted. The house was transformed into a warm and welcoming space with simple decorations—a few family photographs, candles, and flowers placed strategically around the living room. Lady Penelope was among the first to arrive, dressed elegantly in a navy blue dress. She greeted John with a tight hug, expressing her condolences. “I told you she was the best of the best.” Lady Penelope said after freeing John from her hug. Her eyes were on Joe, who immediately understood what she was talking about. “Madeline did a good job.” He said. “I’m really happy that things turned out well.” John looked between the two. “I’m lost here.” “Lady Penelope had referred me to the event planner who decorated the house.” Joe said. Without hesitation John thanked Lady Penelope, who waved off his thanks letting him know she was just helping. When John and lady Penelope stepped inside, Joe stood at the entrance, ensurin
Joe wandered aimlessly through the house the next day each room feeling more suffocating than the last. He shuffled through the house, aimlessly moving from one room to the next. He felt restless, like he couldn't find a place where he could sit still. His thoughts kept circling back to everything that had happened—his father, the gang, Hannah, the endless pressure. The walls of the house felt like they were closing in on him. As he walked into the study, something caught his eye. Tucked in the corner of the room, almost hidden beneath a pile of books, was a scarf. It was a soft, pale blue fabric. He recognized it immediately as Hannah’s. His heart lurched in his chest. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, and then the weight of it seemed to drop on him. His mind flashed back to all the time they spent together, the conversations, the moments that seemed to matter. But that was over now. He had to let go. "Roland!" Joe called out, his voice rough. Roland appeared almos
The day started like any other for Joe, with him arriving at the office early to tackle a packed schedule. He greeted Jeremy, and moved through the lobby, his focus already on the list of meetings he had ahead. But as he approached his office, his steps slowed. Something was out of place—a box sat on the floor right in front of his door. Joe frowned. Packages weren’t unusual, but this one was different. It was unmarked, plain brown, with no indication of where it came from. His instincts kicked in, a chill creeping down his spine. "Jeremy!" he called out in a sharp voice. Jeremy appeared almost instantly, confusion etched on his face. "Yes, Mr. Whitmore?" "What is this?" Joe pointed at the box. Jeremy looked at it, puzzled. "I don’t know. It wasn’t there when I got here." Joe’s unease deepened. "Has anyone checked this? Who delivered it?" "I’ll check with security," Jeremy said quickly, already pulling out his phone. Joe debated waiting but decided against it. He cr
Joe had thrown himself into work the following week. Each morning, he arrived at the company early, staying late into the night. The truth was he was trying to distract his mind, but everywhere he turned, something reminded him of Hannah. Whether it was a news headline that splashed her name across his screen or a fleeting memory of her laugh echoing in his mind. This frustrated him, at some point he just wished he had something to wipe away his memory. Sadly, there was nothing. However, today as Joe sat in his office, gazing out the window, the city lights twinkling against the darkening sky. His thoughts tripled. ‘Why can’t I shake her off my mind?’ he thought. Joe tried to push that thought away. He forced on his screen browsing through the multiple task he had to attend to. That evening, Joe received an invitation to a dinner hosted by one of the company's investors. He didn’t want to go at first until Timothy arrived at his doorstep with a persuasive look. “You need a brea