In the eye of the dia storm, August Oliver entered the Oscar Group expressionlessly, escorted by bodyguards.
On both sides of him, reporters bombarded him with questions, "August Oliver, August Oliver, are you really an appointed director of the Oscar Group?"
"August Oliver, there are rumors outside that you and the current second major shareholder of the Oscar Group, who is also the current acting President and your stepfather, are father and son, is that true?"
"August Oliver, August Oliver, does your entry into the Oscar Group’s Board of Directors an you’re announcing your withdrawal from the entertainnt industry?"
Each question was the focal point of heated online discussions.
Unfortunately, the bodyguards around August Oliver were not to be trifled with, all tall and strong, spreading their arms wide so that no reporter could successfully break through to August Oliver’s side.
August Oliver’s handso profile appeared more mature, and from start to finish, he didn’t answer a single question from the reporters, vanishing from their sight under the bodyguards’ protection.
Today, he ca to the Oscar Group just to clock in, to prove that he appeared, and had no real intention of doing anything.
Upon entering, he coldly asked the person next to him, "The reporters have already photographed , can I leave now?"
Amidst the group of tall bodyguards clad in black, a slender man imdiately bowed and said, "Young Master, I’m afraid not."
"Didn’t I already co here according to your demands?" August Oliver impatiently tugged at the tie around his neck.
He didn’t like wearing ties, as the sullen suit gave him a suffocating feeling. The tie was the most restrictive elent of the suffocation.
But today, appearing as the new director of the Oscar Group, he couldn’t dress as he pleased as when he was in a band.
Everything about him seed predetermined, making him like a programd robot executing tasks set by those who programd him.
The secretary-like person next to him spoke with an unchanged, flat tone, "Director Wesley hasn’t arrived yet. You need to wait for him briefly in his office. Once he arrives, you can leave."
Wesley is the stepfather of Oscar, the man Baron Lawrence tracked down last ti, the one in a wheelchair.
Although his stake in the Oscar Group isn’t the largest, he has shares in other companies as well. His background is complex, and no one knows the extent of his influence. So even if he owns the second-largest stake, within the group, his words can be more powerful than Oscar’s.
Due to Wesley’s special status, the arrival of his illegitimate child stirred such a large commotion upon entering Oscar Group.
Upon hearing Wesley’s na, August Oliver’s handso face turned cold, his gaze icy, not resembling a son’s reaction upon hearing his father’s na, but rather as if hearing an enemy’s na. His cheek muscles tensed as if forcing down sothing, rigidly responding, "I understand, take up then, I’ll wait in his office."
"Very well, Young Master."
The secretary led him into the exclusive elevator, which took him straight to the luxurious, expansive office.
August Oliver hadn’t waited long in the office before the elevator door opened again, and a bodyguard pushed a man in a wheelchair inside.
The bodyguard was clearly well-trained, not particularly tall, but the hidden gleam in his eyes revealed that he was like a lurking viper, ready to strike and kill anyone who posed a threat to the man he was protecting!
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