Courtney couldn’t make it through the rest of the night, as what she had thought would be her comeback against Chance had turned out to be her own bitter pill to chew.It was like the universe was just against her, making her appear so unlucky that Chance, who was just an ordinary kid in school, was now on the verge of making yet another groundbreaking headline across all ESU’s social media platforms, while she would remain the laughingstock for yet another consecutive time.And to make matters worse, Chloe had made a VVIP box, and the whole event had turned out to be more about her and Chance than even the great artists, Brenda and Fredrick, who had been invited to perform.As for Vinita, she just kept checking her phone in disbelief while Roy sat beside them, visibly trying to disappear into the night or to wake up in his dorm and see that all that had happened that night was just a terrible nightmare and that Chance hadn’t made the whole campus lose their breath by his excellent de

The gentle hum of classical music echoed through the warm interior of Crescent Pavilion Café, nestled at the edge of Elite Society University’s east quad. It was a place reserved for the quiet elite—a haven for faculty, visiting dignitaries, and those who preferred their cappuccinos accompanied by soft piano notes and velvet armchairs.Chance stood at the entrance of the café, his eyes scanning through the place as he looked for Mr. Frederick Wheler. He had no idea why Mr. Wheler wanted to see him but he knew he also had nothing to lose by meeting with him. After all, it has always been his dream to be a well-known pianist, only that his mother never supported it.She would always tell him that in the world of men, real men are those who control the boardrooms and not those who perform on stage, wherever it was that she got her theory from.He was still scanning the place, wondering if Mr. Frederick was actually three already or if he should go and look for a place to settle in while

Chance got home to find his mother reading the newspaper. After what Mr. Wheler told him about his father, he just couldn't wait to ask her why she kept all that a secret from him.“Chance?” Julia called out lightly. "Where are you coming from? You look—"But Chance did not allow her to complete her statement before he began questioning her.“I have a question to ask you, Mother,” he began almost immediately.She turned to him, the smile on her lips fading slightly when she saw his eyes.“What is it, sweetheart?”He reached into his jacket and pulled out the faded photograph Fredrick Wheler had given him. He unfolded it and placed it carefully on the countertop between them.The image of a young Steven O’Connor, seated beside a young Fredrick Wheler, stared up at her.Her hands went still.Her breath caught.“Why,” Chance said quietly, “did you never tell me that my father was a pianist?”Julia blinked. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Her fingers curled slowly around the towel in her

Desmond Lakers sat across from Chance, tapping the edge of his fountain pen against his leather-bound notepad, waiting for the final word from Chance regarding the transfer of the 43% of O’Connor’s shares at E.M.I.A. to Mr. Fredrick Wheler.Chance rose from his seat and walked to the window, hands in his pockets, the weight of what he was about to do pressing down—but not enough to stop him.He wasn’t doing this for revenge.He wasn’t doing it for status.He was doing it because people like Christopher Edmund needed to be reminded:True power doesn’t beg to be seen.“I want you to begin preparing the transfer papers,” Chance said finally, without turning around.Desmond looked up. “To Fredrick Wheler?”Chance nodded. “Yes. All 43% of the O’Connor shares. I want Wheler to own them outright, with full voting rights and board leverage.”Desmond leaned forward slightly, brows furrowing. “That’s no small move, Mr. O’Connor. It will make Wheler the controlling shareholder overnight. The boa

Mr. Fredrick was not even done asking his question when Christopher Edmund strode in like a storm wrapped in silk; his eyes—red-rimmed and wild—betrayed a man unraveling.“This meeting is a farce!” he barked.Gasps rippled across the room. The trustees and legal aides who’d thought Edmund would quietly bow out now looked uneasily at one another.The truth of the matter was that the board was already looking for a way to replace him due to his pompousness and how he ran the institute like it was his personal thing. He talked to staff with disrespect, made decisions without consulting the board, and always bragged about being unmatched when it comes to music.As if that was not enough, he also took bribes from the elites in the society, accepting their unqualified children and wards into the institute at the expense of the qualified ones just because they didn’t have money to bribe their way into the institute.So when they received the transfer of shares notice from the O’Connor Founda