At that mont, from inside the room, Oliver’s phone suddenly began to ring. The sound was sharp against the quiet room, and without even needing to check, he already had a strong feeling who it might be. His instincts told him it was Lisa, or at least soone with urgent news.
Without wasting anymore ti he reached for the phone on the table, glanced at the screen, and his guess was confird. It was indeed Lisa that was calling. Without hesitation, he swiped to answer.
Before he could even greet her properly, Lisa’s voice ca through the line, direct and laced with urgency.
"Well, Oliver, it looks like you really do trust Cora," she began. "And from the look of things, you were right to. She actually did exactly what you thought she would. She went out there, faced the caras, and debunked the whole story."
Then Oliver sat forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "Yes," he replied in a steady tone. "I saw the news. I saw it with my own eyes."
But Lisa didn’t stop there. Her voice took on an even sharper edge. "That’s not even the most interesting part of all this," she continued. "The real kicker here... is that it seems Samuel was the one behind everything. Every single bit of it. I wouldn’t be calling you if I wasn’t sure, this is straight from what I’ve gathered. I thought you should know the truth."
Oliver’s jaw tightened at the ntion of Samuel’s na. His voice dropped, calm but carrying a dangerous weight. "Well... according to what Cora said also, it was him. And I trust Cora’s word for it." He exhaled slowly, his tone now darker. "I’m not just going to sit back and fold my hands while that good-for-nothing prick tries to make a fool out of Cora. That’s not going to happen."
At that mont, Lisa narrowed her eyes slightly. She could read the tension in his voice and the weight behind his calm tone. She finally asked the question sitting on her mind, "So, Oliver... what exactly are you going to do about it? Since it was Samuel who was trying to Smart in this ss, how are you going to handle him?"
Oliver leaned back, his tone clipped and certain. "You," he said, pointing with deliberate precision, "just do what you know how to do best. Go and bring Samuel to . That’s your specialty, isn’t it? Finding people... delivering them where they need to be. Bring him to , Lisa. I want to talk so sense into him myself. And by the ti I’m done, he’ll understand one thing, he should never even think about ssing with Cora again."
The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt. Lisa gave a short nod, her voice steady. "Fine. Less than an hour... two at most. He’ll be in front of you."
Imdiately the call ended there.
Oliver set his phone down for a mont, the tension in his jaw hardening into sothing sharper. His appetite for action grew, he was very, very hungry for this. From the very first mont he’d laid eyes on Samuel, sothing inside him scread that the man was no good. And now, Samuel had walked right into his trap.
This ti, Oliver told himself, he wasn’t going to let him slip away. If Samuel thought he could manipulate situations or twist facts to blackmail Cora into so fabricated narrative, he was gravely mistaken. People like that didn’t get to walk away unscathed, not from Oliver.
At that mont he exhaled slowly, placing the phone on the table. But before his hand had even left it completely, the device began to vibrate again. The na flashing on the screen made his brows lift slightly it was his father.
Oliver’s first instinct was to ignore it. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever lecture or interference might co. But after a mont’s hesitation, curiosity got the better of him.
And so, against his initial resolve, he decided to answer the call.
At that mont, Oliver’s father’s voice ca through the phone, calm but carrying that familiar undertone of authority.
"I though you wouldn’t even want to answer my call at first, because honestly you’re too stubborn, too locked in your pride, too serious about the words I had spoken earlier about cutting ties with the family, you’re just too stubborn just like your mother."
"But now," his father continued, "it seems you weren’t as serious as you made it sound. Perhaps you’re just pretending."
His father words words made Oliver frowned slightly, already bracing for where this was going.
His father didn’t waste any more ti on pleasantries. "That’s not even the reason I called. The reason I’m calling is this, your brother William has gotten very, very close to winning over Cora. If that happens, Oliver... you should know that nothing absolutely nothing is going to belong to you. You are still part of this family whether you like it or not, and you should trade with caution now. Trading with caution ans you should swallow your pride, apologize to your brother, and help him now, before he seals this for good. It’s not too late yet he hasn’t gotten her completely. But if you wait until he does, it will be too late for you to ever co back. Once that door is closed, it’s closed for life."
There was a pause before his father’s voice softened slightly. "I’m only doing this because of the love I have for your mother. That is why I’m making sure you have the chance to return before it’s too late. But at the end of the day, it’s your choice."
At that mont Oliver’s reply ca without hesitation, his tone cold but laced with deep disappointnt. "I’m very disappointed in you," he said flatly. "I honestly thought you were calling about sothing truly important, sothing that might matter. Not this nonsense about William getting closer to Cora, and throwing words to my late mother."
He leaned forward, his voice firm and final. "Let make sothing clear this is the last ti I will ever address that man as my brother. I said it before, and I ant it. He is not my brother, and I have accepted that fact completely. As for you..." he let out a slow, asured exhale, "I am even more disappointed to hear you treat this as if it’s so grand achievent for the family. You really believe this is what will progress us? You’re blind to see that your so-called earlier stance won’t help you accomplish anything."
Then his voice lowered, every word deliberate. "William is lying to you. He’s not going to get Cora anyti soon. That, I am very, very certain of."
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