NOVEL NEXT Chapter 837 Mist
Ross leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight.
His eyes roamed her figure without shame, every second feeling like a deliberate power play.
"I love dealing with smart women," he said, his voice smooth as silk yet heavy with arrogance.
"You're quick to understand the game. So how about it, Miss Johnson? Want to be my next wife?"
Lois's jaw tightened. The audacity in his tone made her skin prickle.
"Dream on." Her voice sharpened like a blade.
"I quit." She turned on her heel, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her face a second longer.
Her heels clicked against the polished floor, each step fueled by anger.
She reached for the door, her hand brushing the cold metal of the handle, when his voice followed—calm, unhurried, and far too certain.
"I guess I'll buy the rest of the news broadcast companies in the country, then," Ross said, as if talking about picking up groceries. "I'll see you soon, Miss Johnson."
Lois froze for half a second—just half. She wouldn't give him more than that.
But in that brief pause, the weight of his words settled over her. This wasn't just a threat.
It was a promise from a man with the power to make good on it.
Without turning around, she opened the door and walked out, her face a mask of composure.
Inside, though, her mind was already racing.
If Ross Oakley wanted to corner her, he'd have to do more than buy up every station in the country.
At least… she hoped he wouldn't.
***
"You're hired, Miss Johnson. You can start tomorrow," the rotund manager said warmly as Lois stepped into his office.
Relief washed over her. Finally, a fresh start. "Thank you. I'll be here at seven sharp," Lois replied with a professional smile, shaking his hand firmly.
"That's the spirit. I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy working with you," the manager said, nodding with satisfaction.
The next morning came quickly.
Lois dressed in her sharpest blazer and skirt, determined to prove her worth from day one.
She arrived early, her heels clicking confidently across the polished floor.
She barely had time to hang her coat when a neatly dressed secretary appeared at her side.
"The boss wants to see you," the woman said, her tone polite but unreadable.
Confused, Lois followed her through a series of glass-walled corridors, the hum of busy reporters fading behind them.
The secretary stopped in front of a large double door, opened it—and Lois froze.
"Well, hello, Miss Johnson. Small world, isn't it?" Ross Oakley sat behind the desk, looking infuriatingly at ease.
His grin was wide, smug, like a man who had not only seen this moment coming but engineered it.
Her stomach dropped. "Don't tell me… you bought this company too?"
"That I did," Ross said casually, leaning back in his leather chair.
"When you have the kind of money I do, Miss Johnson, there's nothing you can't buy—especially if you've got a truckload of it lying around."
Lois crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. "You're insane. You can't just keep buying every place I work at."
"Oh, but I can," Ross replied, his voice low and almost amused.
"You see, this isn't just business, Lois. It's… personal. You're a challenge. And I don't walk away from challenges. I crush them—or keep them, depending on my mood."
She shook her head. "You think you can just corner me into doing whatever you want?"
Ross's smile deepened. "Corner you? No. I'm giving you… options. You can work here under my watch, enjoy the best salary and benefits you've ever had, or… well, you can run again. But wherever you run, Lois… I'll be waiting. You can't outrun me. Not in this country. Not in this industry."
Lois's breath came faster, her pulse pounding.
For the first time, she realized this wasn't just persistence—it was a game to him.
And Ross Oakley never played to lose.
"Fuck you." Lois crushed the words under her breath as she slammed her ID card hard onto the desk, the plastic bouncing sharply against the wood.
The sharp sound echoed in the near-empty office.
She didn't wait for any response — she spun around and stormed out, every step fueled by frustration and defiance.
She tried again—twice more.
Two more companies, two more interviews, two more offers.
But every time, before she could even settle in, Ross Oakley's shadow loomed.
Without fail, he bought the company outright, erasing her chance before it even began.
The third time was the last. Lois refused to try again.
Her spirit was battered; the fight felt pointless.
Retreating to her small, cluttered apartment, Lois sat down at her desk and began to vent her fury through words.
The keyboard clattered under her furious typing as she filled blog post after blog post with everything she could muster about Ross.
The hypocrisy. The manipulation. The power he wielded.
If the mainstream media wouldn't expose him, she'd drag the truth into the light online, where no one could ignore it.
"I can't believe the audacity of that man!" Lois whispered, shaking her head as the glowing screen illuminated her tired face.
Her blog was becoming a manifesto, a battleground where she fought back in the only way she could.
She planned her most detailed piece yet — dates, facts, hidden truths — everything laid bare for the world.
Lost in her typing, she barely noticed the time.
The apartment was quiet except for the hum of her computer and the occasional creak from the building settling.
Then came a sound that made her freeze.
Knock… Knock… Knock…
The deliberate, slow tapping echoed from her front door, each rap striking like a sudden thunderclap in the stillness.
Lois glanced toward the hallway, heart pounding. Her eyes flicked to the digital clock on the desk: 12:00 a.m. — exactly midnight.
Her breath caught. Midnight visits were never good news.
Her boyfriend was away on a baseball tour, and never in a million years would he appear unannounced at this hour.
Who could it be?