Gasps rippled through the hall as James strode in confidently, his PA by his side. The expensive fabric of his suit gleaned Helen's jaw dropped, her fingers freezing mid-tap. She instinctively clutched Christopher's arm under the chandeliers, its impeccable fit accentuating his regal posture. Every eye was locked onto him, disbelief spreading across the faces of those who had once looked down on him.
"That can't be James… It must be one of rich friends who lent him that suit!"
Christopher remained speechless, his face paling as realization dawned. Robert, sitting across from them, stared wide-eyed at James, his mind racing to piece together what was happening.
James walked straight to the front of the hall, his PA pulling out a chair for him. He sat down calmly, scanning the room with a faint smirk. He could see the stunned expressions, the silent questions dancing in their eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the event host finally announced, clearing his throat. "Please welcome Mr. James, the President of JP Enterprises."
A wave of murmurs swept through the hall, disbelief clashing with admiration. The Ray family sat frozen in place, Helen clutching the armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white.
James leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "Shall we begin?" he said, his voice smooth yet firm, carrying the weight of a man who had risen from the ashes.
The meeting commenced, but Helen couldn't focus. Her mind reeled from the shocking truth James, the man she had humiliated and cast aside, was not just successful; he was now one of the most powerful businessmen in the room.
"How dare you lay your hands on me? Do you know who I am?" Mark roared as the security guards tightened their grip on his arms, dragging him toward the exit of the grand conference hall.
The murmurs in the room grew louder, investors and company representatives whispering among themselves as they watched the Prime Minister's son being forcefully removed. Mark struggled, his face flushed red with anger and embarrassment.
"Sir, please don't make this harder than it has to be. You are not an authorized investor," one of the guards said firmly.
Mark's glare was searing as he turned his head towards James, who stood calmly at the head table, watching the entire scene unfold. "You!" Mark spat. "You planned this, didn't you? You set me up to be humiliated like this!"
James arched an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. "No, Mark. You did this to yourself. You thought you could walk in here, throwing your weight around without proper authorization. This is a professional investment summit, not your playground."
Helen, sitting across the hall, clenched her fists. "How can they do this to Mark? He is a valuable investor!" she whispered furiously to her husband, Christopher, who was too stunned to respond.
Mark twisted in the guards' grip, his voice dripping with venom. "I swear, James, you will regret this. You think you can humiliate me in front of these elites? I will make you pay for this!"
James met his gaze with a calm but firm expression. "Mark, threats won't change reality. You came here thinking your name alone could buy you a seat at the table. But in business, it's about credibility, not status. And today, you just proved to everyone here that you have none."
The room remained silent as the guards escorted Mark out. His loud protests echoed through the hallway before the grand doors finally shut behind him.
Rita sat in her chair, her heart pounding. She knew Mark was dangerous when scorned. She turned to James, worry evident in her eyes. "James, you know he won't let this go, right?"
James exhaled slowly, nodding. "I know, Rita. And I'm ready for whatever he plans next."
The hall remained hushed for a moment before the moderator cleared his throat. "Now that the disruption has been handled, let us proceed with the investment discussions. Mr. James, as the President of JP Enterprises, you have the floor."
James stepped forward, commanding the attention of every business mogul in the room. He knew this was just the beginning, but one thing was certain Mark had declared war, and James was ready for battle.
"James, you really should just leave while you still have some dignity left."
The cold voice of Helen pierced through the room like a dagger. James stood there, silent but firm, holding onto the promise he had made to Grandpa before his death never to leave that house, no matter what humiliation came his way.
Mark sat smugly on the leather couch, legs crossed, sipping expensive whiskey like he owned the entire world. "Come on, James," he said with a mocking grin. "You can go stay with those rich friends of yours. You beg them often enough, don't you?"
James looked at him, his eyes burning but calm. "You laugh now, Mark. But the day is near and you'll lose everything. All that power, all this showmanship... It's built on borrowed air. And it's about to collapse."
Mark threw his head back and laughed louder, pointing a finger at him. "Is that a threat from a man who just got kicked out of his own house?"
No one said a word. Even Rita, standing by the corner with misted eyes, couldn't muster the strength to speak. Her heart ached, but her position had already been threatened for refusing the divorce. The family business was on the brink of ruin, and everyone was grasping for lifelines even if it meant selling her future for a bailout.
Mark, now basking in his power, pulled out a cheque and slammed it on the table. "Nine hundred million. That's what I'm investing into Ray Enterprises. My father gave me this for the family's investment portfolio. But today, I'm giving it to you... for love," he smirked, glancing at Rita.
James turned, his bag in hand, and walked out without another word. But his mind was already on the next move. The promise made to Grandpa wasn't just about staying. It was about rising, silently, and striking when the time was right.
Outside the gates, he dialed a number.
"Hello, Charles," he said. "Connect me to the Prime Minister's PA. It's urgent."
In less than an hour, news had traveled. James learned the shocking truth: Mark had diverted funds from a national family investment trust to make his dramatic gesture. And that news reached exactly the ears it was supposed to Mark's father, a revered statesman and strict financier, who had trusted him with the fund.
That night, Mark's phone buzzed. The message was short:
"Come home immediately. Five minutes. Transfer the money back."
Mark froze.