Robert's knees trembled again, and even though he had met Oliver once before—briefly, in a passing encounter—he had never truly understood who he was. But seeing Lisa, the legendary goddess of investment herself, bowing her head without pride, without hesitation… it hit him hard.
It was in that exact moment that everything began to make sense. All the missing puzzle pieces slammed together inside Mr. Jackson's mind like thunderclaps. The disrespect they had poured on Oliver. The arrogance they had spewed. The dismissive glances and condescending words—all of it now felt like curses hurled into the sky, waiting to strike back like lightning.
Without another breath wasted, Mr.Jackson suddenly dropped his head completely to the floor. And then he started banging it—once, twice, three times—against the cold marble floor. Each strike echoed through the mansion like drums of regret. He didn't care about his clothes. He didn't care about his image. All he cared about was survival.
