Mr. Woods paced restlessly in his study, contemplating the ramifications of his plan to attack Jeremy and his company. The weight of the situation pressed upon him, and he couldn't shake off a growing sense of dread. He was no fool; he knew that Jeremy was not to be underestimated. Perhaps, as an aging man, he should consider abandoning this reckless endeavor. "I believe we should heed the warning and put an end to this while we still can," Mr. Woods confessed to Drake Lockman, who seemed lost in his thoughts. Lockman scoffed dismissively. "Are you telling me you're scared simply because that fool brought us a warning?" "It's more than that," Mr. Woods replied, his voice filled with trepidation. "That warning came directly from Jeremy Nobody himself. We cannot afford to ignore it. Rumors abound about what he's done to those who dare to oppose him. And we're not dealing with ordinary individuals; these are very wealthy, influential, and highly prominent figures in our society. Jere
"Someone came to my office yesterday with some documents," Sasha exclaimed, her voice filled with distress. "Inside those documents were the ownership rights of my studio. And surprisingly, those rights weren't mine anymore. The man told me that the building would be demolished and used for whatever purpose the new owner had in mind. At first, I thought it was some kind of joke, until I realized that it wasn't. The only ultimatum he gave was for me to hire you back. And that's why I beg you, Melissa, to take your job back. Please. That studio is my life." Melissa was taken aback, unable to believe her ears. The situation seemed too surreal to comprehend. She stood there, unsure of what to do or say, her mind racing. Memories of the unfair treatment and constant threats of being fired flooded her thoughts, but amidst it all, she couldn't bring herself to hate Sasha entirely. After all, Sasha had given her a second chance, an opportunity she wouldn't have otherwise had. Taking a deep
Jeremy sat in his office, attempting to focus on the files on his computer screen, but his mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of her consumed him—the irritating yet captivating woman who had managed to infiltrate his every thought. Her beautiful face, her sweet scent, and the way her body felt against his own lingered in his mind, distracting him from any semblance of work. Clearly, he was losing his grip. "Lincoln!" Jeremy called out, his frustration evident. Within seconds, his new assistant, Lincoln, rushed into the room. Jeremy had recently replaced his previous assistant for not meeting his standards of efficiency, and this new assistant was determined to excel. "Sir," Lincoln responded promptly, standing at attention. "Prepare the car. I'm going out for lunch," Jeremy commanded, feeling the need to clear his head. "Yes, sir. Shall I accompany you?" Lincoln inquired. "No, there's no need. I'll be with Lucas. Stay here and ensure everything runs smoothly," Jeremy instructed, slippin
Jeremy sat at a table in The Aviary, an exquisite restaurant where he often enjoyed his Tuesday lunches. The elegant ambiance, impeccable service, and delectable food always pleased his discerning taste. He had become a regular patron, earning the privilege of having the entire place reserved for him every Tuesday. With each bite, he relished the flavors dancing on his palate, savoring the culinary artistry before him. As he indulged in his meal, Lucas approached and stood before him, awaiting his attention. Jeremy raised an eyebrow, silently conveying his unspoken question—Why are you standing in front of me while I'm eating? "Yes?" Jeremy finally inquired, combining the words "What do you want?" and "Why are you standing right in front of me as I eat?" into a concise phrase. "Sir, Mr. Grey is outside," Lucas informed him. Jeremy let out an audible sigh. "Tell him he can wait until I'm finished with my lunch," he casually replied, nonchalantly continuing to chew his food. Lucas
"Well, I guess we're done here," Melissa said as she gracefully rose from her seat. "You should stay. You can order anything you want. The food here is exquisite. Besides, it's not every day that a girl gets to have lunch with someone as captivating as me. Consider it a rare opportunity." Jeremy suggested a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Melissa hesitated for a moment, then smiled and sat back down. "Well, if the food is as remarkable as you claim, I suppose I can stay a little longer. But don't let it get to your head, Mr. Nobody." Jeremy couldn't help but smile in response. There was an undeniable chemistry between them that made this encounter all the more enjoyable. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he admired Melissa's spirited nature. "Your hair," he began, a touch of genuine admiration in his voice. Curiosity tinged with a hint of self-consciousness, Melissa interrupted, "What's wrong with my hair?" Jeremy's smile widened. "No, no, there's nothing wrong at all.
Jeremy sat in his office, his eyes fixated on the surveillance footage captured by Steve's car. The screen displayed undeniable proof of brake tampering, revealing a deliberate act that had caused the accident. A surge of anger mixed with determination coursed through Jeremy's veins as he watched the distressing video unfold before him. Earlier that day, Jeremy and Tony had rushed to the scene of the crash, their hearts pounding with worry for their dear friend, Steve. Witnessing Steve being carefully placed on a stretcher by compassionate paramedics, surrounded by concerned onlookers who had called for an ambulance, intensified their concern. The atmosphere was chaotic, with reporters and police officers eager to unravel the mystery behind the incident. United in their deep concern, they followed the ambulance to the hospital, their minds filled with thoughts of Steve's well-being. Swiftly, Steve was taken into the emergency room, where doctors assessed the extent of his injuries. I
As the night enveloped Mr. Woods in peaceful slumber within the confines of his home, an unfamiliar noise disrupted his tranquility, rousing him from his restful state. Intrigued yet cautious, he resolved to investigate the source of the disturbance. However, as he stepped across the threshold of his bedroom door, a sudden and powerful blow struck the back of his head, causing him to crumple to the ground in agony. Dizziness and disorientation clouded his senses, and through a hazy veil, he faintly discerned the silhouette of a man looming above him. With trembling fingers, he touched the back of his head, sensing the sticky warmth of his own blood before succumbing to the consuming darkness. Lucas swiftly gathered Mr. Woods' unconscious body and carried him outside, where a sleek black Opel Vivaro van sat idling, awaiting their departure. Placing Mr. Woods within, Lucas climbed into the vehicle, and the driver, aware of the urgency, sped away into the night, leaving behind no tra
Gradually, Mr. Woods regained consciousness, only to be met with a searing headache that pulsed through his skull. He winced, closing his eyes against the pain, and attempted to move his limbs, only to discover that they were tightly bound. Panic surged within him as he surveyed his surroundings—an empty room, devoid of any comfort, with a single dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting eerie shadows. Disoriented and plagued by thirst and hunger, Mr. Woods wondered how long he had been unconscious. He tried to wrench his arms free but felt narrow straps dig into his flesh. He cried out in pain and stopped trying to free himself. Desperation gripped him, and he shouted for help, his voice a blend of fury and fear, the stale air choking him. Suddenly, a creaking sound reverberated from the rusty hinges of the door—a signal that someone was approaching. "Seems like our new acquaintance has finally awakened," a voice exclaimed, infused with an unsettling excitement. Mr. Woods