At that mont, Williams slowly rose from his seat. His expression had changed—less smug now, more hardened. Focused.
"That is exactly what I’m going to do," he said through his teeth, every word carrying weight. "I’m going to push for her like never before. You’ll see."
Without waiting for his father’s response, Williams turned on his heels and stord out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him.
Once outside, Williams pulled out his phone, his jaw tight. There was no room for mistakes. He scrolled through his contacts and quickly tapped on a na :Vincent.
The call connected after the first ring.
"Boss," ca the voice from the other end.
Williams didn’t waste ti. "My brother is going out on a date tonight," he said coldly, pacing across the marble floor. "I want you to track his car. I need the exact location of where he’s going. The mont he gets there, send the coordinates."
A brief pause.
Then Vincent replied in a crisp tone, "No problem. I’ll get it done imdiately."
At that mont, Williams ended the call and lowered his phone slowly, his fingers clenching tightly around it. The anger inside him was building, boiling. His jaw tightened, and his eyes stared blankly ahead, but his thoughts were loud—too loud.
It wasn’t just the phone call. It was everything.
The way Oliver always carried himself like he was better. Like he was more refined. Like he had all the answers. Every ti Williams tried to be friendly—every ti he tried to be the bigger person—Oliver acted like he was doing him a favor just by talking to him.
It was always that calm, indifferent tone. That dismissive smirk. That subtle way of saying "You’re not enough" without using the words.
Williams began pacing, his thoughts racing with bitter questions. Was it because I’m more handso than he is? Or maybe because I actually built sothing for myself? He ran a hand through his hair roughly. Is it because I’m not stuck under father’s shadow, and I made my own company—my own path? Or maybe... he just thinks I’m not good enough for anything that matters to him.
And Cora.
Maybe that’s it. Williams’ eyes narrowed with focus. He doesn’t want near her because he thinks I’m not worthy. That she’s too good for .
His breath was getting heavier now. Sothing inside him had snapped. It wasn’t just sibling rivalry anymore. It was war.
"Fine," he muttered to himself, his voice ice-cold. "You think I’m beneath you? You think I can’t win her? I’ll show you exactly who I am."
From this mont, it wasn’t just about Cora. It was about pride. About proving to Oliver—and to the entire family—that Williams was not so failure to be brushed aside. He would make sure that Cora beca his, no matter how long it took, no matter what it cost.
And with that, Williams walked off, determined. No more jokes. No more gas. He had already made the call—he would get the location soon. Then he’d begin his own move.
...
Now we shift the scene.
Outside Cora’s house, the early evening breeze was cool and quiet. Oliver stepped out of his car, smoothing his jacket and checking his watch. He wasn’t late—but his mind was still slightly spinning from the conversation he had left behind with his father and brother.
But the mont Cora opened the door, all those thoughts paused.
She stood there, frad by the doorway like a painting co to life. The gown she wore flowed down like silk water, hugging her in all the right places without trying too hard. Her hair was down, simple but graceful. Her makeup subtle, yet perfect. She looked breathtaking—unapologetically herself.
Oliver smiled slowly, genuinely, a rare softness in his eyes.
"Wow," he said, almost under his breath before stepping closer. "This gown... it actually looks more beautiful on you than anything I’ve seen lately. You look like yourself now. Not the one you were trying to pretend to be. Not the one who was living for soone else."
At that mont, Cora couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t just a polite smile—it was soft and warm, the kind that ca from deep inside. She looked at Oliver with a grateful expression, touched by his words. For a mont, her eyes held his, and the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was calm. Peaceful.
"You know," she said gently, "I think that’s a lesson for everyone. What you just said... it ans a lot. It’s true. You shouldn’t live your life for anyone else. You shouldn’t give up who you are just because you want soone to like you. It never ends well. It never truly works."
She took a small breath, and her tone changed—softer, but more firm.
"Just live for yourself. Just be happy. And whatever makes you happy, hold on to it. Stick with it. But..."—she raised a finger and smiled slightly—"do it in a composed and civilized manner. Never let greed take over. Because when you do, you might just lose everything—even your life in the process."
Her voice dropped a little. Her gaze lowered briefly, and she let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I was greedy," she admitted, without sha. "I thought that if I just gave more, loved more, stayed loyal—even to my own hurt—it would make him stay. I thought helping Jas would make him love . I thought he would stop chasing others. But I was just fooling myself. That man never cared. I was just another trophy to him."
Oliver listened without interrupting. He saw the strength in her eyes now—eyes that had cried too many tears but refused to look weak anymore.
She straightened up and smiled again, this ti with lightness in her voice. "But that’s over now. I don’t have anything more to say about that fool. Tonight is not about him. Tonight, I just want to enjoy this mont. Enjoy dinner. Enjoy this ti—with you."
Oliver gave a gentle nod, visibly pleased. He was about to respond when Cora paused, then squinted slightly as if rembering sothing important.
"Wait," she said, tilting her head. "There’s sothing I’ve been aning to ask you."
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What is it?"
She looked at him with a curious smile. "You rember earlier today when we ran into each other?"
He nodded. "Yes, I rember."
"Well," she continued slowly, "the lady standing next to ... Malisa. I’m sure you know her. She’s my friend—very close. We t in university. She’s more like a sister to ."
Oliver nodded again. "Yes. I’ve t her a few tis. Three tis, I think. I know who she is."
Cora hesitated, then turned her full attention to him. "Okay, good. So I just wanted to ask... do you feel anything for her? I an... do you see her in a different way? Do you... feel sothing for her?"
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