2025-08-08 15:50:07
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Gunshots
Clark looked at the man standing in front of him and found himself wondering what made him so calm, so arrogant. There was something unsettling about Jackās composure, something that made even Clark, a man used to handling chaos hesitate for a moment. He sneered in his heart. He was trying to give Jack a way out. A simple, quiet solution. A chance to walk away without further drama. But Jack clearly wasnāt interested. He didnāt want peace. He wanted to press the issue and ride the high road straight through Basleās pride.Clark figured that maybe Jack didnāt know who Basle was. Maybe if he did, his arrogance would finally break. Clark lowered his voice, but the weight behind his words didnāt fade.āBasle is the manager of the Marland Grand Hotel. Iām sure youāre also a refined businessman, Mr... Jack. Canāt we be reasonable here and talk things out?āBoth Clark and Basle turned their eyes toward Jack, expecting some reaction. Shock, maybe fear. Or, at the very least, a flicker of reco
Face slapping
āMy name is Basle Lacrose. Iāve taken a fancy to the two women by your side,ā the man said, his voice laced with arrogance. āToday Iāll have them, whether you like it or not.āHe spoke to Jack as if he were just another stool in the room, gazing at him with a cold, indifferent stare like he didnāt matter at all.Ava rolled her eyes and scoffed. āHey, whatās your problem? Canāt you see youāre being a damn nuisance?ā Her tone was sharp and unforgiving, her eyes fixed on Basle with pure irritation.Basleās lips curled into a weird grin. His eyes flashed with something sick and unfiltered. āMmm, I like feisty girls. Youāre really turning me on.āHe leaned across the table, stretching his arm out like he owned her, reaching to grab Avaās face.Before his fingers could even get near her skin, a cold hand snatched his wrist. The grip was solid and merciless, like steel wrapped in flesh. Basleās whole arm stopped mid-air. He looked up, surprised, annoyed, and confused all at once.Jack didnāt
Dinner Drama
After the meeting, Jack walked out of the building like he finally belonged in his own skin. The air felt different. His stride was relaxed but sure, and his posture carried the kind of quiet confidence that didnāt need to be announced. He felt different in his suit. People who had never been CEOs would never understand this feeling, the watch on his wrist caught a glint of sunlight. Maybe it was over the top, but so was everything about today.For a moment, he stopped at the curb, half-smiling at his reflection in the blacked-out window of a parked car. He looked like a boss. Hell, he was a boss now. Maybe he shouldāve bought a car after all. Heād passed on it before buying the company shares, telling himself it was too reckless. But now? Flashy sounded like the right kind of message. Christa was already with him, so he pulled out his phone and called Ava.āWhere are you?ā he asked.āStill at the office,ā she said. āWhatās up?āāYouāre not going home right away. Meet me uptown for di
Respect earned
Jackās eyes settled on the culprit, his gaze scanning the man for the object that was boosting his confidence. From among the seated board members and shareholders, a figure stood with just enough arrogance in his stride to make his identity clear before he even spoke. Christos.Jack didnāt look away. He stood up too and walked slowly but steadily toward him, the sound of his shoes echoing in the quiet room as everyone else stayed seated. Once he was close enough, Jack locked eyes with the older man. The tension was unmistakable. Christos didnāt flinch. He met Jackās gaze with that same conceited smirk plastered on his face, like he had already won whatever battle was unfolding.Christos finally broke the silence. āNice try, kid. You might fool everyone here, but youāre not fooling me. Donāt you know that even a madman knows there are some paths he canāt take?āThe words left Christosā mouth with a cold sting. His tone was casual, yet it held a certain venom that was clearly meant to
Don't call me kid
Mr. Luster wanted to tear into Jack right then. He wanted to raise his voice, slam his palm on the table, and expose whatever trick Jack was playing. But something in Jackās eyes made him hesitate. The confidence wasn't forced or shaky. It was calm and steady, the kind that only came when someone knew exactly what they were doing. Jack didnāt flinch, didnāt fidget, and didnāt act like someone bluffing. Even if he didnāt have Winstonās number, he clearly had something planned. So Luster held back. He bit his tongue and decided to watch. If Jack was playing games, heād find the cracks soon enough. And when he did, heād crush him. The rest of the boardroom went quiet. Every eye shifted to the phone in Jack's hand. he only sound was the repetitive beeping as the call tried to connect. Then there was a sharp click. The line picked up. āHello, whoās this?ā a voice asked on the other end. It was Winston. But Jack didnāt speak. He didnāt even look at the phone. He stared at the shareholders
The gold phone number
A wave of shock moved through the room like a gust of cold wind, followed by a moment of quiet disbelief. It didnāt make sense. The shareholders had sat down expecting a boring meeting, maybe another useless update, but now some young man was standing there in a suit that clearly wasnāt from a thrift store, talking like he owned the place. Once the initial confusion passed, their expressions changed. The polite confusion faded, and their faces twisted. Frowns hardened. Jawlines clenched. Mr. Luster, who had always been the first to react when his authority felt threatened, stood slowly. His tone was cold enough to freeze water. āKid, whatās your name? Do you even know who youāre insulting?ā Before Jack could respond, another voice came from the side. Mrs. Eith crossed her legs, arms folded, her tone sharp with that layered smugness only the rich could pull off. āWhoever your daddy is, donāt think he can save you. Youāll regret insulting us today.ā Jack stood there unfazed, no matt
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