THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.-Chapter 328

Hearing what Oliver just said, both Festus and Clinton exchanged uneasy glances. The calmness in Oliver's tone only made everything worse. He wasn't shouting. He wasn't threatening in anger. He was certain. That certainty alone was terrifying.

"Well," Oliver continued after a pause, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve, "since you seem so confident, you can stay right where you are. You and your father." His voice hardened. "But if either of you refuse to cooperate if either of you think this is still a joke then I promise, your situation is going to get a lot worse."

Then he stood up slowly, his shadow stretching across the floor as both men stared up at him.

"I didn't bring you here for a chat," Oliver said finally. "I brought you here because I want something and you're going to give it to me. One way or another."

He turned slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Because believe me, I already know everything about you. Every secret. That's why you're here."

At that moment, hearing what Oliver just said, both Festus and Clinton turned slowly to face each other. Their eyes widened in disbelief, as if they had just heard something completely unthinkable. The room fell into a sharp silence, the kind that made every breath feel louder than it should. Neither of them expected Oliver to still be this composed, this bold… this fearless.

Clinton's jaw dropped slightly, and for a second, it looked like he was waiting for Oliver to laugh and say it was a joke but the look on Oliver's face was far from playful. There was no hint of regret, no sign of fear. Just cold, sharp confidence.

"He… he's still talking like this?" Festus muttered under his breath, barely able to contain the frustration bubbling inside him.

Clinton's voice then rose sharply. "You really don't know what you're doing, do you?" he spat, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and confusion. "Do you seriously think… just because my uncle likes you… you can get away with this? Or because you're dating Cora… you think that gives you the right to do whatever you want?"

He scoffed hard, his fists tightening on the chair arms. "You're finished, Oliver. You've gone too far. You're going to regret this—"

But before Clinton could even finish his words, Oliver raised his hand slightly, stopping him mid-sentence.

"Enough," Oliver said, his voice calm but laced with venom. He leaned forward a little, locking eyes with Clinton. "Do you really think I don't know what's going on behind the scenes?" His voice sharpened. "You think I haven't done my own digging? You think I don't know who sponsored James to ruin Cora's life?"

The moment those words left his lips, the entire room shifted.

Festus's eyes widened. Clinton froze.

"You…" Clinton started, but he couldn't find the next words.

Oliver didn't flinch. "Yeah, I know. I know everything. I know about the meetings. The phone calls. The money transfers. The fake reports. The sabotage. I've been piecing it all together."

Then he paused.

"You see," he continued, pacing calmly in front of them, "you thought I was stupid. You thought I was just another man head-over-heels for Cora, distracted by love. You made a very dangerous assumption."

His eyes narrowed on Clinton. "But here's what you never realized—I don't play games."

Clinton's lips trembled slightly. "You're bluffing."

Oliver chuckled quietly. "If I was bluffing, you wouldn't be sitting there tied up, looking like a little boy who just got caught stealing from the family safe." He leaned down, his face inches from Clinton's. "You're not in control anymore, Clinton. I am."

He straightened, walking toward the door.

"And since you want to act tough," Oliver added, glancing over his shoulder, "then you'll enjoy what comes next. Because what you're feeling now? The confusion, the fear, the humiliation? It's just the beginning."

He paused at the doorway.

"I didn't come here for your forgiveness. I came for answers. And trust me, by the time I leave, you'll be begging to give them."

At that moment, upon hearing what Oliver just said, Festus couldn't help but fake a small, bitter smile. His lips trembled, but he forced it into something that looked like confidence. Then he said to Oliver, "Do you think I'm some little boy you can scare with empty threats? Do you think I don't know what you're trying to do? You're trying to blackmail me yes, that's what this whole setup is about! You want to twist my words, push me until I say something I didn't do. You want to force me to confess to a crime I know nothing about. Well, that trick won't work on me, not today. I'm far beyond your level, boy. You can't play mind games with me."

His words were sharp, but his voice carried a faint tremor.

Clinton beside him looked away uneasily, sensing that his father's usual commanding tone was cracking.

Then, before Festus could even finish his sentence, a voice suddenly rang through the room weak, trembling, and yet cutting through the silence like a knife.

"Stop lying," the voice said, hoarse but clear. "You are the one who told me what to do. You approached me first. You bribed me. You gave me the money, and I have proof. Pictures. Everything. And I've already handed them over to him."

The voice echoed against the walls. Everyone froze.

For a moment, Festus didn't even breathe. His whole body stiffened, his expression slowly twisting from arrogance to disbelief. His pupils widened, and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. He knew that voice he knew it too well.

It was James.

And as the realization hit him, Festus's face turned pale. His fake smile vanished. The blood drained from his cheeks, leaving only fear. His mind started racing James was supposed to have be running. How could he be here, let alone talking?

His heartbeat quickened, pounding in his ears like thunder. Then, in a burst of rage, Festus shouted, "James! You crazy bastard!" His voice cracked halfway through the name. "You dare open your filthy mouth? You dare speak against me?!"