Victor’s knees buckled. He looked like a man gutted, his soul ripped from his chest. Just moments ago, he had smirked with confidence, certain Rex’s end was written. Now he stood there hollow, frozen, his entire world unraveling around him.
The employees thought he would crumble into silence, but instead, a hoarse, desperate cry burst out of him.
"W-wait! Boss, please, you can’t do this! I’m... I’m your cousin! Distant, yes, but family all the same! You can’t just—"
The room froze at his words. A sharp intake of breath rippled through the staff, and the girls stared wide-eyed, whispering to one another in disbelief. Family? That explained his arrogance... but it only made his downfall more pitiful.
Steven’s face darkened like a storm about to break. His heart skipped, fear stabbing through him at the thought of Rex misinterpreting the situation, of him thinking that favoritism or nepotism had shielded Victor until now.
"Cousin!?" Steven roared, his voice reverberating through the office so hard it made the glass partitions shiver. He slammed his hand against the desk with a crack that made Victor flinch.
"You dare bring that up here? You think blood ties give you the right to humiliate his excellency
Then his glare snapped back to Victor, now trembling so violently he looked like he might collapse. Steven’s voice turned sharp and merciless, each word a dagger.
"You’ve disgraced me enough. You’re no cousin of mine. Security!" he barked toward the door, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Drag him out of here like the stray dog he is!"
Two guards rushed in at once, grabbing Victor by the arms. He thrashed weakly, his voice breaking as he tried to wrench free.
"No, please! Boss, it’s me! You can’t— I was only trying to—"
His pleas dissolved into muffled cries as he was hauled toward the exit, his feet dragging uselessly against the floor. The entire office watched in stunned silence, the humiliation so thorough it seemed to strip him of every shred of dignity.
By the time the doors slammed shut behind him, the room felt lighter... like a storm had passed. Steven, however, stood rigid, his chest heaving, eyes flicking nervously toward Rex, desperate to see his reaction. For more chapters visit novel⚑fire.net
And through it all, Rex didn’t so much as flinch. Calm. Collected. Watching the storm tear his enemy apart without lifting a finger.
Just like that, the storm vanished. And it it’s place hushed murmurs broke out. Some employees exchanged stunned looks, silently marveling at how composed Rex was. The girls whispered in awe, their eyes gleaming... such poise, such calm authority. It was the kind of bearing one couldn’t fake.
While were also stunned by their boss’s action.
Steven, however, didn’t give a damn about their reactions. Their wide eyes, their whispers, their shocked expressions meant nothing to him. Reputation? Dignity? Those were luxuries for fools who would never climb higher than their cubicles. He didn’t care if his employees saw him grovel, didn’t care if his authority in their eyes had taken a hit. In fact, he almost welcomed it. What were these people to him? Peasants. Replaceable cheap labor, and could be discarded tomorrow if need be.
What mattered was not their respect. What truly mattered was the man standing before him. A man who, if Steven’s hunch was right, belonged to that rare class of untouchables... the real bigshots who shaped the world from behind the curtains. Compared to that, what was reputation? What was pride? Nothing.
Steven knew it well. if he had clung to his so-called "self-respect," then he would still be rotting at the bottom, just another struggling nobody in the endless gutter of Hollywood. The truth was, he had survived and risen by casting away such illusions long ago.
Heck! He wouldn’t even be standing here today as the boss of a Hollywood studio, a multimillionaire with people bowing their heads before him. No, to reach here, he’d endured far worse than humiliation. He had sold his pride countless times, and had practically lived like a dog at the feet of those richer and stronger than him, chasing after their heels, flattering, helping, groveling, licking their boots, always waiting for a chance, always hoping for scraps.
And finally, after years of bowing and scraping,those high and mighty hands had tossed down crumbs. Just crumbs, but to Steven, they had been gold. With those crumbs he built this studio. With those scraps he bought his way into respectability. And once he stood above others, those very people who mocked or sneered at him before now bowed their heads and called him "sir."
That was reality. That was survival. And he had never forgotten it. In fact, the richer he got, more he understood the importance of those crumbs.
Now, standing before Rex, Steven felt the same gut-deep instinct he had all those years ago when kneeling for the wealthy... the instinct that told him, This one is different. This one is real.
It wasn’t every day the heavens handed you such an opportunity. Opportunities didn’t come twice in a lifetime. This wasn’t a starlet to exploit, or an investor to sweet-talk. This was a man who radiated power from every calm breath, a man who could open doors that Steven had dreamed of but never dared touch. Such a chance to connect with a man who could truly change your life. He would not let it slip.
To let such a chance slip away would be the same as spitting in the face of God Himself.
No, Steven thought fiercely, his back bending just slightly lower, his smile a shade more respectful. He would not let this opportunity go. Not for pride, not for dignity, not for anything.
This was his chance to climb higher. And Steven had never been afraid to crawl for that.