2025-07-30 01:13:11
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Pick a ride (part1)
Jack was looking up pictures of cars on his new laptop while dressed in his white robe. It was the middle of the day, and he had already finished half a glass of wine without even noticing. The quiet around him felt comforting instead of empty. Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness had clearly never experienced a life like this. They had never sat in a furnished apartment, shopping for luxury vehicles on a top-tier machine, while drinking wine that didn’t come from the bottom shelf. Jack had never felt this relaxed in his life, not even when he landed his first real job. That kind of joy had been short-lived, full of uncertainty. What he felt now was different. He wasn’t chasing stability anymore. He already had it in the palms of his hand.He was looking for a car to get from one place to another. At the same time, he was selecting something that would represent how far he had come. He didn’t want a vehicle that looked like it belonged to a show-off, but he didn’t want one that f
Let's not kid ourselves
After Jack threw his cards all over the floor, he walked out without looking back. He didn’t care about their reactions anymore. All he had to do now was wait and watch the moment unfold. REC was already starting to fall apart. He would be there when the cracks widened. He would be there to pick up the pieces. Christa’s ultimate plan was working exactly the way they had mapped it out during those late-night calls when no one else was listening. She had planned every move, every leak, and every whisper. Jack simply followed through.The corporation was in panic mode. Stock prices were crashing day after day with no sign of recovery. Internal messages were leaked to the public. Rumors began to spread like wildfire. Whispers turned into articles. Stories turned into headlines. Blogs and newspapers printed whatever they could gather, whether real or fake. It didn’t matter. The narrative was already poisoned. REC was bleeding from the inside, and the world was watching.Winston worked hand
Pressure mounting
Would Jack really spare Amelia and Brent? One was the very person who got him fired without a second thought. The other was someone he had once considered a close and dear friend, someone he had helped rise from rock bottom. Yet when Jack was at his lowest, desperate and humiliated, Brent didn’t lift a finger. Jack had explained everything. He had laid his cards out, told Brent how serious his situation was, how badly he needed even the smallest favor. But Brent just stood there like a statue, unmoved. Not even a hint of sympathy in his eyes. No concern, no decency. It was like Jack no longer existed. The moment he lost his job, both of them had dropped him like a bad habit. As if the months they had spent working together had never happened.Now, here they were, not saying a word, and looking like cowards. Amelia clutched her tablet tighter than she needed to, knuckles pale. Brent looked down, pretending to read an email on his phone that wasn’t even open. But Jack didn’t spare them
He's actually rich
As the people realized Jack’s true goal here today, a small murmur passed through the crowd. It started as whispers first, quiet voices filled with disbelief, but then it grew louder, shifting into something close to hope. It seemed like most of the employees agreed, even if they didn’t say it outright. The idea of someone else—anyone else—buying the company sounded like a godsend. Maybe it meant better pay. Maybe it meant less abuse. But all of that still depended on whether Jack was telling the truth.Brent and Amelia shivered when they thought about what this might actually mean for them. Not just the company. But them. Brent stared down at the floor like it would swallow him whole, and Amelia’s jaw tightened. No, it couldn’t be true. It had to be a bluff. Jack didn’t have that kind of money. He couldn’t have. Her face twisted in disbelief, her red lips tight, the layers of makeup on her face starting to look like a mask ready to crack. Then, without a word, she stormed over, heels
Earth to Gerald
This man… he looks well-built and groomed. If I hadn’t fired Jack so recently, I would’ve thought it was someone else entirely. But there’s no mistake. This is Jack." Gerald Gardner stared with his mouth slightly open, frozen in a daze. It was like his mind refused to accept the image in front of him, frantically trying to filter the image out. His brows twitched in confusion, trying to process it, trying to make sense of it. The man standing there looked nothing like the Jack he remembered. This Jack looked composed. Clean-cut. Polished and confident, too confident.Jack snapped his fingers sharply in front of his face. "Hey. Earth to Gerald." His voice was amused but held a sting underneath. Gardner blinked out of his stupor, snapping upright in his chair.Jack tilted his head and sighed with an exaggerated flair. "It's strange how people treat you once they think you have money. Back when I worked here, the guards checked my pockets like I was a thief. Asked for my ID even though t
You're a lowly manager
Mr. Gardner sat behind his desk, fists clenched so tight the bones in his hands ached. His breathing had turned rough without him realizing it, louder than the hum of the overhead lights. It wasn’t just anger or stress anymore. It was both. Tangled up so badly he couldn’t tell one from the other. The company was spiraling, and somehow, everyone looked at him like he was supposed to fix it. He didn’t have help or resources, just with pressure. Another deadline. Another forced smile from upper management pretending they had a plan.He was supposed to make everyone work harder. With less. Hit numbers that didn’t make any sense. “Push for excellence,” they kept saying, as if that word hadn’t lost all meaning. Gardner had stopped trying to figure out what that even looked like. He didn’t believe they had a clue either. They’d dumped this sinking ship in his lap and walked away.His jaw clenched, teeth grinding hard enough to send a pulse into his temple. Without thinking, he slammed his ha
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