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Author: Jericho Chase
last update2025-01-12 23:27:19

“Put me into retirement?” Mr. A. Adams laughed out loud. “You seriously have a big mouth, Barry. I've been chairman of the school board for twenty-five years. Who do you think you are?”

Barry turned to principal Shepherd Joyce. “Call the school board. Inform them that King is interested in buying the school if they'd take a vote and remove Mr. A. Adams.”

Principal Shepherd Joyce's eyes grew wide. “What are you talking about? This school is not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale if the price is right,” Barry said sharply. “Tell them I'm offering $100 Million.”

Everyone stiffened in shock.

“A $100 million?” The vice principal exclaimed. “Not even our annual revenue after taxes is close to that amount.”

Principal Shepherd Joyce shook her head. “Barry, this is an educational institution. I don't think the board would–”

“That's because you haven't asked them,” Barry interrupted. “The chairperson may be the most important person on the board, but he's not invisible. If the board takes a co
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  • A reality tv show

    Cleopatra’s office was a luxurious suite lined with platinum plaques and framed photos of artists she had built from the shadows. She swirled a glass of wine in her hand, her sharp eyes locked onto Barry who was seated opposite her. “Barry Sullivan,” she said with a sly smile, “Welcome. I'm glad you honoured my request.”Barry crossed his legs, making himself as comfortable as possible. “I assume you didn’t call me here for pleasantries.”Cleopatra leaned forward. “Adam is progressing very nicely. Cisco has been giving me excellent reports—his vocals, his stage presence, his work ethic. If he keeps this up, we could have a debut album ready by next year."Barry nodded. He had seen the change in Adam himself—the way his son carried himself now, the fire in his eyes when he talked about music. But he also knew Cleopatra well enough to sense there was more coming. “Good. That boy’s got fight in him.”“Yes,” Cleopatra agreed, then her tone shifted. “But he lacks something crucial. Clo

  • At the record label

    Adam had been confused when his father told him they were going to an important meeting. No details, no explanations—just that same intense look Barry Sullivan always wore when business was involved. The moment they stepped into the massive, state-of-the-art recording studio, Adam’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t just any studio. This was the kind of place where legends were made. Platinum records lined the walls, and portraits of legendary singers gleamed at him as he strode pass. Cleopatra Monroe stood waiting for them, donning in a tailored black dress and round sunglasses.Her sharp eyes locked onto Barry the second he entered. She extended a hand, her red lips curling into a smirk. "Barry Sullivan," she purred, shaking his hand. "You don’t seem to age. What’s your secret?"Barry smirked back. "And you haven’t changed either."She laughed, tossing her hair. "Oh, please. I have amazing beauty doctors."Then her eyes shifted to the boy, studying him like a jeweler examining a

  • Cleopatra Monroe

    Kane Sanchez was at the peak of his musical career. For three consecutive years, he had been the top-charting artist in the world, his face plastered across every magazine cover, his voice booming from speakers in every club. Four of his albums had gone platinum, his tours sold out in minutes, and his influence stretched across continents. He was untouchable—a king in an empire built on talent, ruthlessness, and the right connections. Barry knew better than anyone how cutthroat the entertainment industry truly was. It wasn’t just about talent. Half of the brightest stars burned out before they even got noticedIn the music industry, it was more about power, leverage, and who you knew. Adam had the voice, the charisma, even the drive. But without the right backing, he’d be chewed up and spat out before he even got a foot in the door. Barry could bulldoze his way into boardrooms, crush corporate titans, and dictate market trends, but the music business was an entirely different

  • A father's support

    Barry was on the living room floor, letting his twin daughters climb all over him like giggling little monkeys, when the front door opened. Adam stepped in, shoulders slouched, face shadowed with a heaviness that didn’t belong on a sixteen-year-old.Barry’s fatherly instincts kicked in immediately.“Son, how did it go?” he asked, smiling warmly.Adam forced a grin, too quick, too rehearsed. “It went very well. I had a good time,” he replied in a chipper tone that didn’t match his dull eyes. Before Barry could press further, Adam added, “I’m just a little tired. I’ll be in my room.” And he slipped away up the stairs.Barry’s smile faded. That wasn’t the voice of a boy who’d just met his idol. Something was wrong—deeply wrong.He gently untangled himself from his daughters’ tiny arms. “Daddy will be right back, angels,” he said, kissing their foreheads. Then he stood, his face hardening, and headed for the stairs.Outside Adam’s room, Barry paused. His hand hovered over the doorknob

  • Never meet your heros

    It was Adam’s 16th birthday.Years had slipped by like a breeze, and Barry now found himself with a grown teenage son who was taller, bolder, and carrying the quiet confidence of youth. In those years, life had blossomed in unexpected ways. Veronica had conceived again, this time giving birth to twin girls whose mischievous laughter often filled the Sullivan villa.Adam, however, was nothing like Barry when it came to career ambitions. While Barry had spent his life building empires and conquering boardrooms, Adam showed little interest in the family business. His heart beat to a different path. Music was his passion. Barry would often pass by his son’s room and hear the faint thump of bass or the soft strum of guitar strings as Adam composed his own songs. Whenever Adam wasn’t working on music, he could be found attending concerts, losing himself in the energy of the crowd and the artistry of the performers.This never disappointed Barry. If anything, it made him proud. A fath

  • Goodbyes

    Eleanor’s head jerked back, her jaw dropping open in shock. Her eyes widened, searching his face for any hint of bluff. "That’s a lie," she blurted, shaking her head. "You can’t be Barry Sullivan." Barry didn’t argue. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, metallic ID card, holding it up for her to see. The golden seal of the International Business card gleamed under the hospital lights.His name—Barry Sullivan was emblazoned in bold letters beside his photo. "This is my second visit to Z City,” he said casually, tucking the card away. "I came here on a personal journey… character discovery, if you will. I’d rather not get into the full details."Eleanor’s fingers clenched the bedsheets, her mind racing. "I... I don’t get it. If you were here just for some… self-discovery trip, how does any of this tie to me?"Barry shrugged lightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Fate, I guess. You see, I abandoned my wealth and status to live like a common man. Ran

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