“Stop pretending you’re still the CEO of our group!” Tyshawn bellowed towards Bryson, his voice tinged with both anger and disbelief.

“You can’t boss people around anymore! Unhand me this instant or IIL call security!”

In the midst of this commotion, Malvina assumed a commanding presence, her gaze sharply turning to Bryson.

“This is our group’s conference room.

Just who do you think you are, storming in here like you own the place?” she challenged, her voice dripping with contempt.

Meanwhile, Bryson, ignoring the verbal onslaught, coolly signaled to someone behind him.

In response, Yosef, with deliberate steps, approached from the back, his hands clutching documents.

“These documents outline the projects that have driven the Mitchell Group into the red and the assets that are bleeding internally.

As Bryson spoke, every eye in the conference room darted to the papers Yosef laid out on the table.

The documents were a detailed chronicle of missteps and financial mismanagement under Tyshawn’s leadership.

Expressions around the room darkened as the shareholders and directors absorbed the information.

hemorrhaged approximately

dire news—the losses, with the current downward trajectory

troubled expressions,

here to make

decided to step

will now be

but let a smug smirk spread across his

were mixed, and a palpable tension filled the room; no one else seemed

leaned back, his voice dripping

that! We don’t need you here!” he declared,

his triumph was

cleared his throat and addressed Bryson with a

“Mr.

Mitchell, I

sense of order to the chaotic

now that you’re back,

to resonate with the

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