THE TABLE TURNED
last update2026-04-27 16:54:19

The officer’s voice cut through the tense air as he stared directly at Connor.

“Sir,” he repeated firmly, “how did you acquire this card?”

Connor stood still for a moment, calm and unshaken. His expression did not change as every eye in the terminal locked onto him. Then he replied evenly.

“I got it from the airport authorities,” Connor said. “I truly earned it.”

A short silence followed. Then Alex Jefferson stepped forward immediately, his voice sharp and loud.

“That’s a lie!” Alex s
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  • HE WHO LAUGHS LAST LAUGHS BEST

    The entire terminal fell into a suffocating silence the moment Mr. Davis lowered his head and spoke those mighty words. Mrs. Agatha White’s pupils widened instantly. Her lips parted but no sound came out at first. Her body stiffened as if her soul had left her for a second. Mr. Jefferson’s brows shot up. “Young… what did you just call him?” Connor stood still, his expression unchanged, but his eyes briefly narrowed as he studied Mr. Davis. He wasn’t surprised by the respect—but he was clearly thinking. Before anyone could react further, Mr. Davis lifted his head slightly and turned toward Mrs. White. “Good morning, Madam,” he said calmly. “Are you planning to travel as well?” Mrs. White’s hands trembled. Her voice cracked. “I… I… that’s not important. Tell me… who is Young Master Wood?” The question came out unstable, almost desperate. Connor’s eyes shifted slightly. How does Mr. Davis know her? he thought silently. Mr. Davis gave a small pause before answering, hi

  • THE TABLE TURNED

    The officer’s voice cut through the tense air as he stared directly at Connor. “Sir,” he repeated firmly, “how did you acquire this card?” Connor stood still for a moment, calm and unshaken. His expression did not change as every eye in the terminal locked onto him. Then he replied evenly. “I got it from the airport authorities,” Connor said. “I truly earned it.” A short silence followed. Then Alex Jefferson stepped forward immediately, his voice sharp and loud. “That’s a lie!” Alex snapped. “Do you hear yourself? Connor Wood, earned something? This man is a fraud!” Mrs. White quickly joined in, her face twisted in anger. “He is a jobless nobody!” she shouted. “Don’t be fooled by his acting! He probably printed that card himself!” Murmurs spread through the crowd again. Some passengers shook their heads while others whispered insults. “Pathetic…” “So he’s still pretending to be important…” Connor said nothing. His silence only made them more irritated. The offi

  • THEY CHOSE THE WRONG MAN

    The faint smile on Connor’s lips faded as sleep finally took him. Morning came too quickly. Connor’s eyes snapped open to the soft hum of the air conditioner. He stared at the ceiling for a second—then the memory hit. The video call. The frail old man. The apology. Connor sat up, rubbing his face. “So it wasn’t a dream,” he muttered. He swung his legs off the bed and stood. No time to waste. He opened his suitcase, pulled out a clean shirt and dark suit, and began dressing. His expression stayed calm, but his mind was already racing. Just as he was buttoning his shirt, his phone beeped twice from the bed. Connor paused and turned, picking it up. A notification from Palacia Times filled the screen. He frowned slightly and tapped it open. The headline appeared boldly: “DE CLARA GRANDE TOPS PALACIA STATE HOTEL CHART — ENTERS NATIONAL TOP TEN.” Below it was a clear image of the hotel, shining under bright lights, followed by Clara’s photo—elegant, confident, smilin

  • ORDERED BY THE KING

    The entire compound was dressed in gold and red. Ribbons stretched across pillars, wrapped around the gates, and hung in careful loops along the driveway. Lantern-like decorations swayed gently in the morning breeze, catching the sunlight and casting a warm glow across the polished marble floor. For a brief moment, Connor just stood there, his suitcase in hand. “What… is all this?” he muttered under his breath. Behind him, footsteps echoed. “Why are you standing there?” Clara’s voice came, sharp and impatient. Connor turned slightly. Clara, Mrs. Sam, and Mason stood at the entrance, watching him like he was something they wanted gone as soon as possible. Connor gave a small nod. “Nothing. I was just leaving.” Mrs. Sam scoffed. “You’ve overstayed already. Hurry up and disappear.” Connor looked at them one last time. His gaze lingered for a second longer on Clara, but his expression didn’t change. “Goodbye,” he said calmly. Clara folded her arms. “Just go.” He tu

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    His chest tightened the moment Clara dropped the folder on the table. He stared at it for a second, then at her. “Clara… what is this?” Her voice came out cold, sharp, and without hesitation. “Divorce paper. Sign it.” The words hit harder than anything he had heard all day. Connor’s fingers twitched slightly at his side, but his face remained calm. Shock flickered in his eyes, but it faded quickly, replaced by something quieter. “I see,” he said slowly. “So we’ve reached this point.” Clara crossed her arms, her expression filled with impatience. “Don’t act surprised. This marriage has been over for a long time.” Connor let out a faint breath. “I’m not surprised. Just… disappointed.” Clara’s eyes narrowed slightly, then she spoke again, her tone colder than before. “I can’t keep living with a husband who has nothing to offer,” she said. “My brand is rising. I need someone who matches my level… someone whose influence can push my business even further.” Connor’s gaze

  • MILLENNIUM REAL ESTATE

    He stepped through the revolving glass doors of Millennium Real Estate, and the cool air of the lobby hit his face like a memory he had tried to forget. The building still looked the same—towering marble floors, gold-trimmed reception desk, and crystal lights hanging like quiet statements of power. Years ago, he had walked here as a respected billionaire investor. Today, he came in with a worn file and a taxi receipt folded in his pocket. A receptionist looked up and nodded politely. “Good morning, sir. Can I help you?” Connor gave a small nod. “I’m here for the roundtable interview.” She checked her list quickly. “Right… top floor conference room. They’re expecting you.” As he walked across the lobby, a few employees glanced at him. Some nodded in greeting, unsure if they recognized him. Connor returned a calm, controlled wave, then moved toward the elevator. His steps were steady, but his mind remained sharp. Inside the elevator, one of the staff whispered to another, “

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