2025-04-11 18:18:11As Mr. Webb entered, a wave of submission swept through the lounge. Every head bowed. Employees straightened their backs, hostesses folded their hands, and the music lowered as if the walls themselves knew better than to offend him.
Carl Webb owned this place. Evergreen Lounge was his kingdom, and in his eyes, only the worthy deserved to be in his presence. His gaze was sharp, his stance unwavering—a man accustomed to power, to having the world bend to his will.
Raymond’s girlfriend was enthralled.
This was the kind of power she craved—the command, the respect, the fear. But a part of her wished this was Jerry Haas instead. If Carl Webb commanded this level of submission, she could only imagine what it would be like when Jerry walked into a room.
Carl walked up to Raymond, greeting him with a firm handshake, the kind exchanged between men who knew their places in the hierarchy. But his eyes barely lingered before shifting to the unwelcome presence standing nearby.
Jackson.
Carl’s face darkened.
How had this nobody even made it past the door?
Tricia and the other hostesses stiffened. They knew Carl’s type—men who saw themselves as kings, who despised anything that reminded them of peasants and paupers. Jackson was a stain on the room, a mockery of everything Evergreen Lounge represented.
It was a shame they had let him in at all.
Carl didn’t hesitate.
He closed the distance between himself and Jackson, scanning him from head to toe as if assessing a cockroach on his pristine floor.
Then—a slap.
The second slap of the night.
Jackson’s head snapped to the side, the sharp sting echoing in the suffocating silence of the room.
A barrage of insults followed.
"Miserable fool. Polluting my establishment with your presence."
"You should be licking the floor beneath my feet."
"Who gave you the audacity to confront a VIP? To even breathe the same air as my esteemed guests?"
Carl’s voice dripped with disgust, his words slicing through the room like a blade.
Raymond’s girlfriend was ecstatic.
She laughed, clapped, practically jumped with excitement. This was power. Raw, unfiltered dominance. She loved every second of it. But she couldn't help but imagine—what if it was Jerry instead?
Jackson held his cheek but didn’t flinch.
He simply smiled.
He had done nothing wrong. His entire life, he had asked for just one thing—to be treated like a human being. Yet men like Tyler, Linda, Jonah, Raymond, and Carl always found ways to remind him that, in their eyes, he was nothing.
He swallowed the pain.
He said nothing.
He would wait for Jerry Haas to arrive and finish what he came for.
But Carl wasn’t done yet.
He saw the way Raymond’s girlfriend was looking at him—like a god. And it fueled his pride.
Why stop now?
"Crawl," Carl commanded, his voice thick with arrogance.
The room stilled.
Carl smirked, turning to the exotic woman who was practically wrapped around his arm now.
"Apologize to the lady," he ordered Jackson. "On your knees."
The woman beamed.
This? This was a real man. Someone who could demand submission and get it. She held onto Carl’s arm, forgetting Raymond entirely, waiting for the moment Jackson would bow before her.
But Jackson didn’t move.
He didn’t even blink.
He simply scoffed.
Carl’s smirk disappeared.
This wasn’t just defiance—it was an insult.
His face twisted with rage. "Get him on the ground," he barked at the security team.
Immediately, the head of security and his men seized Jackson, their grips tight and unforgiving. They were just about to force him down when—
DING.
The elevator opened.
And everything stopped.
The music cut out. Conversations died mid-sentence. Glasses were placed down carefully.
A collective chill ran through the room.
Carl’s heart skipped.
He already knew.
Only one man could command this kind of silence.
Jerry Haas.
Jerry rushed out of the elevator, which was unusual, as he always walked majestically. His move this time could only mean one thing to everyone who saw him—there was trouble.
Jerry Haas is the head of management at Sky Tower; he was two hundred million dollars shy from a billionaire. He was powerful and highly connected, especially since everyone knows he worked for the subordinate of the owner of Sky Tower.
Also, he was highly respected by everyone.
Carl’s face tightened. He quickly signaled the security to keep things quiet. If Mr. Haas saw this mess, he’d be humiliated. Worse—he could lose everything.
The woman’s grip on Carl loosened.
Her eyes widened as she adjusted herself, hoping to look as irresistible as possible. This was her moment.
But Jerry wasn’t looking at her.
He wasn’t looking at Carl.
He was looking at Jackson.
Then, to the horror of everyone in the room—
He bowed.
A full 90-degree bow.
"Mr. Hart, I am deeply sorry for my lateness. Please forgive your humble servant!"
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Latest Chapter
Chapter 100: Yvonne Tween’s Rescue!
The black SUV cruised through the moonlit back roads on the outskirts of the city, its headlights cutting across the dusty gravel trail that led into the dense Midland district. Inside the vehicle sat Jackson Hart, Mr. Copper, Director Whitaker, and Drake Lahm.Behind them, three police vehicles followed, each armed with tactical units ready to breach whatever lay ahead.Director Whitaker had informed the police department, and they were hoping to get there, rescue Yvonne Tween, and apprehend the abductors.Jackson sat forward in his seat, hands clasped together as his elbows rested on his knees. The weight of everything—the Empire, the threats, the betrayal, and now Yvonne—pressed heavily on his chest.His own fear was that nothing bad should happen to Yvonne because he was the one who had dragged her into the mess that she had now found herself.“You’re sure this is it?” Director Whitaker asked sharply, eyeing Drake from the front passenger seat.Drake nodded quickly. “This is the p
Chapter 99: Taking the Billionaire’s Side!
Jackson and Mr. Copper stepped out of the black SUV that had brought them from Senator Patrick’s estate to the CIA regional headquarters. The air felt charged with expectation. As the automated glass doors slid open, the reception area fell into a respectful silence, with several agents casting subtle glances in their direction. Everyone knew who Jackson Hart was now—and what his presence meant.They were quickly ushered through a secured hallway to the operations wing, where the Director of the CIA, Director Arlen Whitaker, greeted them with a curt nod.“Mr. Hart. Mr. Copper. We’re glad you came quickly,” he said, extending his hand.“We came as soon as we got your call,” Mr. Copper said, accepting the handshake. “You said you had intel on Yvonne Tween’s whereabouts?”Director Whitaker nodded gravely. “We received a tip early this morning. Someone walked in through our field office and requested immunity in exchange for actionable intelligence.”Jackson folded his arms, cautious. “An
Chapter 98: The First Clue!
Jackson stared out of the tinted window, lost in thought as they left Senator Patrick’s Estate, making their return to Sky Tower. The meeting had gone as expected, maybe even better. Senator Patrick’s vision, political influence, and deep-rooted rivalry with Senator Moore painted a clear picture—this wasn’t just a power struggle anymore and that there are those whom he could still call allies.The silence between him and Mr. Copper was comforting—until curiosity finally got the better of him.Hearing that his father had been in full support of Bruce Hamilton’s presidency and yet not once did the media pick it up and made a news about it still surprised him as he couldn’t help but wonder how his father had been able to do it.Just few weeks of pretending to be Mystery billionaire, he had almost come to the end of himself that he couldn’t keep up with it anymore, and yet according to Mr. Copper and the records he had stumbled upon, the Hart’s Empire have been established for almost two
Chapter 97: The Meeting of Titans!
The gate to Senator Patrick Stones’ estate opened with the smooth hum of security locks disengaging. Jackson’s sleek vehicle, escorted by two Hart Security vehicles, cruised into the compound—one of the most secure political residences in the capital. As Jackson and Mr. Copper stepped out, a team of sharply dressed aides approached to welcome them.“Mr. Hart, Mr. Copper—welcome,” said the lead aide with a respectful bow. “The senator is expecting you. Please follow me.”They were led through marble hallways lit with golden chandeliers and lined with framed photographs of Senator Stones from his early days as a lawyer to the Senate floor to his work on international peacekeeping summits.The aura was thick with legacy. The kind of legacy that didn’t just serve a country—but helped shape it.The doors to the private meeting lounge opened.There, standing in a tailored navy-blue suit, was Senator Patrick Stones himself, tall and commanding despite his silver hair and aged features. A man
Chapter 96: The Senator’s Wrath!
“I stand before you today not as the Mystery Billionaire but as Jackson Hart—the son of Philip Hart and heir to the Hart’s Empire.”The words continued to echo in Senator Moore’s ears minutes after the press release, and that got him seething with anger as he slammed the remote control into the floor with such force that the plastic casing split, batteries tumbling across the carpet like retreating soldiers. His chest heaved. His fists shook. The veins on his temple throbbed as his eyes narrowed to hateful slits as every word, every phrase, and every sentence replayed in his head.“That insolent brat,” he growled, standing from the leather recliner like a volcano erupting from years of dormant rage. “He just spat in the face of everything we built—on live television.”He paced, his steps sharp and erratic, like a predator too furious to stay still as the press conference had unfolded like a car crash he couldn’t stop. And every word Jackson spoke had chipped away at his plans. The pr
Chapter 95: An Invite from Senator Patrick Stones!
The auditorium at Sky Tower Media Hall was packed.Reporters from every major outlet—both local and international—lined the seats like vultures circling a high-profile kill. Flashes from camera drones danced through the air. Outside, protestors gathered with signs reading “Where Is Yvonne?”, “Justice for Tween.”Tension boiled like an unspoken war as Jackson made an attempt to address them and also to clear the present his official statement as the heir to the Hart’s Empire before the propaganda from the Whitelists finds its way to the media space in full swing.Mr. Copper had told him he had barely two hours to make his official statement as it wouldn’t be long before the Whitelists discover that there had been an obstruction in the transmission of their press release earlier that morning.Inside the hall, Hailey clutched Nancy’s hand while James and Andrew stood at the back, ever ready to support their friend, Jackson. A storm of shutters erupted as Jackson stepped onto the stage,
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