Benson sat in his office, gripping the edge of his desk as he replayed the recent events in his mind. His mother's plans had failed miserably, and Adrian had outmaneuvered her once again. He had warned her, but she never listened. Now, the company was slipping further from their grasp.
Just then, Derrick walked in, his face unreadable. "I told you your mother is reckless," he said, shutting the door behind him.
Benson clenched his jaw. "And you think you're any better? You abandoned me and now suddenly want to act like a father?"
Derrick sighed. "I didn't abandon you, Benson. I made choices that kept you safe, even if you don't see it that way."
Benson scoffed. "Safe? You left me to grow up thinking I was another man's son, fighting for an inheritance that was never mine to begin with!"
Derrick stepped closer. "And if I had told you the truth? You think William would have let you stay in his house? He would have thrown you and your mother out in an instant."
Benson fell silent. He hated to admit it, but Derrick had a point.
Derrick leaned against the desk. "Now listen to me, son. Margret's days are numbered. Adrian is coming for her, and when he does, she'll drag you down with her if you stay by her side."
Benson folded his arms. "And what do you suggest? That I betray my own mother?"
Derrick smirked. "I suggest you stop letting her use you. You and I… we can still come out of this with power, but only if we play it right."
Benson narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Derrick lowered his voice. "Adrian thinks he's won. But what if we let him believe that while we make our own moves? There's more than one way to take control of this empire, Benson. We just have to be smarter about it."
Benson exhaled deeply, conflicted.
For years, he had blindly followed his mother, believing in her schemes. But she had led him down a path of failure time and time again. Maybe it was time to think for himself.
He looked up at Derrick, his father—this man he barely knew, yet who now seemed like the only person who could help him.
"Alright," Benson said finally. "Tell me the plan."
Derrick's smirk widened. "Now you're thinking like a winner."
Derrick leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We don't attack Adrian directly. That would be foolish. He's already ahead of us, and William trusts him. Instead, we make Adrian doubt himself. We create instability in his leadership."
Benson frowned. "How do we do that? The board already respects him, and now Grace is involved. She's not as easy to manipulate as Margret."
Derrick smirked. "That's exactly why we use her."
Benson raised an eyebrow. "Use Grace?"
Derrick nodded. "She's new to this level of power. If we plant the right doubts, push the right people to resist her leadership, she'll struggle. Adrian will be torn between running his own company and helping her, dividing his focus."
Benson exhaled, considering the idea. "And what about William? He still holds too much influence."
Derrick's expression darkened. "William is old. His time is running out, whether we help it along or not. If we play our cards right, he'll be too exhausted to fight back when the time comes."
Benson wasn't sure how far he was willing to go, but he knew one thing—he didn't want to lose everything to Adrian.
"Alright," Benson said. "Where do we start?"
Derrick tapped his fingers against the desk, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "First, we turn the board against Grace."
A week later, rumors began circulating among the company executives. Whispers that Grace lacked experience, that she was only in power because of Adrian, that she didn't have the business acumen to lead such a massive empire.
Derrick had called in favors, pressuring some board members to question her decisions publicly during meetings. Benson, though reluctant at first, played his part well—expressing his "concerns" about the company's direction under her leadership.
At first, Grace held her ground, confident in her abilities. But as the opposition grew, even Adrian noticed the tension.
One evening, Grace sat in Adrian's office, rubbing her temples in frustration. "I don't understand, Adrian. Everything was going smoothly, and now, suddenly, half the board is against me. It's like someone is pulling the strings."
Adrian clenched his jaw. "That's exactly what's happening."
Grace looked up at him. "You think it's Margret?"
Adrian shook his head. "No. She's too obvious. This feels more calculated."
Just then, his phone buzzed. A message from an anonymous number:
"You're fighting the wrong enemy."
Adrian narrowed his eyes. Someone was warning him. But who?
And more importantly… what was the real threat lurking beneath the surface?
Adrian stared at the message, his mind racing. Who was sending this? And why now?
Grace noticed his expression and leaned forward. "Adrian, what is it?"
He showed her the text, and her face paled. "Fighting the wrong enemy? That means—"
"There's someone else working against us." Adrian finished her sentence, his voice edged with frustration. "We've been focusing too much on Margret while the real puppeteer moves in the shadows."
Grace clenched her fists. "Then we need to find out who."
Adrian nodded, determination hardening his features. "No more sitting back. It's time to turn the game around."
Meanwhile, Benson sat in Derrick's office, watching his so-called father sip on a glass of whiskey.
"You didn't tell me you were going to push Grace this hard," Benson said, arms crossed. "If we take her down too quickly, Adrian will come after us before we're ready."
Derrick smirked, swirling his glass. "That's exactly why we strike while he's distracted. If Adrian is forced to split his attention between his company and fixing his wife's problems, he won't have time to come after us."
Benson hesitated. Something felt off. He had always thought he was fighting for his place in William's empire, but lately, he wasn't sure if this war was truly his or just Derrick's attempt to seize power for himself.
"And what happens when Adrian finds out we're behind this?" Benson challenged. "He's not stupid."
Derrick chuckled. "By the time he realizes the truth, it'll be too late."
Benson wasn't convinced, but he kept quiet. For now.
Back at William's estate, Adrian met with his father in his private study.
"I think Derrick is the one behind all of this," Adrian stated firmly.
William sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I suspected as much. That man has always been ambitious… and reckless."
"And Benson?" Adrian asked.
William hesitated. "Benson is conflicted. He may be involved, but I don't think he fully trusts Derrick."
Adrian tapped his fingers against the desk. "Then we can use that to our advantage."
William raised an eyebrow. "What are you thinking?"
Adrian smirked slightly. "We let them think they're winning. We give them just enough room to hang themselves."
William nodded approvingly. "Clever. But be careful, Adrian. Derrick won't go down without a fight."
Adrian's expression hardened. "Neither will we."
That night, Benson sat alone in his apartment, drowning in his own thoughts. He was deep in contemplation when his phone rang.
Margret's name flashed on the screen.
He let it ring. He wasn't in the mood for another one of her desperate schemes.
Then, a message popped up.
Margret: We need to talk. Meet me at my place. It's urgent.
Benson exhaled sharply. More drama.
But something told him this time… it was different.