Chapter 69 Silent Struggle

69  Silent Struggle

Outside, Noah breathed in the crisp air, his mind already moving on to the next step of his plan. He had systematically cleared out the rot within his company, and now, with loyal and talented people in place, he could focus on building something greater.

He had shaken the company from top to bottom in just one day, from the law department all the way down to the receptionist.

His grip on Walls4Us was tightening, and he was already several steps ahead, anticipating the moves of everyone around him. They were pieces on a chessboard, and he had set them in motion, controlling every outcome with precision.

He didn't need to look at the other directors, as he had already sent a message through Smith and the law director. Furthermore, there was no evidence showing that they were involved so he let them be.

In the coming weeks, Noah knew that the entire company would fall into line. Fear was a powerful motivator, but so was the desire for approval.

By offering John and others the hope of redemption alongside the threat of consequences, he ensured their absolute loyalty.

They would see him as both their punisher and saviour, two faces of the same coin, keeping them on edge—forever wondering whether they would be crushed or lifted up next.

And Noah thrived on that edge, knowing it gave him an advantage no one could see coming.

Noah gazed at the horizon, where the sun's golden light bathed the city skyline in a warm, fading glow.

He took a moment to absorb the scene, the bustling sounds of the city beginning to settle as night crept in. The long shadows stretched across the street, creating an illusion of quiet serenity—a stark contrast to the turmoil that had unfolded within the walls of his company.

As he watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon, his thoughts took a darker turn. "Good and evil, reward and punishment," he muttered under his breath, recalling the stark dichotomy that had guided his every action today. "Those are the only motives that drive a rational creature."

The words felt both comforting and disturbing, a principle from a past he thought he had left behind, a past he had been trying to bury for years.

Noah sighed, realizing how naturally he had slipped back into this role. A shiver ran down his spine as if the setting sun had drained all warmth from the air.

He was a master manipulator, a strategist, someone who had always played life as a game of chess. But he had determined to leave that behind, to live a life that was simpler, purer.

He'd made a promise to himself—a promise that he wouldn't return to this darker side, that he wouldn't let the hunger for control consume him again.

And yet, here he was again.

He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "It seems like my old self is slowly resurfacing," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the gentle hum of traffic.

For years, he'd fought against the pull, trying to leave behind the part of him that was always calculating, always scrutinizing, always positioning people like pieces on a board. He had tried to keep that side buried, telling himself he was done with it—that he wanted something different from life.

But today, faced with corruption in his own company and the constant betrayals of those around him, that side had taken control effortlessly, emerging like a shadow he couldn't outrun.

He had revelled in the power, wielding it like a weapon, orchestrating the downfall of those who dared to cross him. And it had felt so natural, almost too natural.

In a way, it was exhilarating. But at the same time, it unsettled him. He felt a familiar tightening in his chest, a warning that he was venturing down a path he might not be able to turn back from.

The taste of victory was bitter, tinged with a sense of regret that gnawed at him, a reminder that he was straying dangerously close to the person he'd once despised.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he continued to watch the fading light. "I slipped up today," he admitted to himself, the words hanging in the air like a confession.

It had been so easy to justify his actions at the moment, to convince himself that this was necessary, that he was doing it for the good of the company. But now, in the silence that followed, he couldn't escape the feeling that he had betrayed his own principles.

As the last glimmer of sunlight disappeared, Noah turned away, casting one last glance at the darkening city.

He knew that the path he was on was a dangerous one, one that could lead him to places he never wanted to revisit. And yet, he also knew that a part of him thrived on this—the power, the control, the ability to shape the world around him to his will.

The two sides of himself were locked in a silent war, a conflict he couldn't ignore, one that left him feeling hollow despite the success he had just achieved.

With a heavy heart, he made his way to Sarah's house, hoping to end the complicated relationship once and for all.

But as he walked, the weight of his actions hung over him like a shadow, a constant reminder that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape his own nature.

He had fought this battle before, and he knew it wasn't over.

The question was no longer whether he could keep his darker side buried, but whether he even wanted to.

19:46

Noah took a steadying breath as he approached Sarah's house, each step heavier than the last.

Today, he was here to confront something more complicated than any business. This was a matter of the heart, of raw feelings he had been suppressing. And he was prepared, at last, to let it all go.

He knocked on the door, waiting as footsteps approached on the other side. But when it swung open, it wasn't Sarah who greeted him. It was Layla, her eyes narrowing the moment she recognized him. The hostility was immediate, radiating from her like heat from a fire.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "There's nothing here for you." Without waiting for an answer, she began to close the door.

Noah reacted instinctively, pressing his hand against the frame to keep it open. He met her glare with a coldness that sent a shiver down her spine. S~eaʀᴄh the nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Where is Sarah? I'm not here to play games with you, Layla," he said, his tone firm and unyielding.

Her eyes flashed, and she bristled, pushing against the door. "None of your business," she spat, shoving again, but her efforts were futile. "Sarah!" he called, his voice echoing through the quiet house. "I want to talk to you!"

Layla's anger flared. "Leave now, or I'll call the police!" she threatened, her voice cracking with frustration. But her words fell on deaf ears. Moments later, Sarah appeared, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene—her daughter grappling with the door, Noah standing with an iron grip on the frame.

"Noah?" she said, confusion and concern mingling in her expression. "What are you doing here?"

He let go of the door and took a step back, his gaze steady. "I'm here to talk to you, Sarah. I need an answer from you—a clear one."

Sarah looked at him, and then at Layla, who was still standing by the door, her arms crossed, scowling. "Do you want to talk alone?" she asked softly, her voice strained.

Noah shook his head. "There's no need. I'd prefer if she stayed. I want to be clear with both of you."

Sarah's eyes held a glint of sadness, but she nodded for him to continue.

He took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto Layla's, hard and unforgiving. "Sarah, we both know the kind of person your daughter is. She's manipulative, self-centred, and reckless, always willing to twist things to get what she wants. I'm not here for revenge; if I wanted that, I wouldn't be standing on your doorstep." He turned to Sarah, his voice softening but still firm. "I'm here because I care about you, not because I want to play some petty game."

Layla's face reddened with indignation. "How dare you!" she snapped. But Noah ignored her, focusing on Sarah.

"There was nothing between me and your daughter—nothing real, anyway," he continued. "Not a relationship, not even physical contact. She's wrapped up in her own games, and she thought she could pull me in. I came to you because I want to know where we stand."

Sarah's face was a mixture of pain and uncertainty, her eyes flickering to her daughter, then back to Noah. She took a shaky breath, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Finally, she managed, "I…I can't, Noah. I'm sorry." She swallowed, blinking back tears as she forced herself to continue. "Layla and you…you have a past, a history that I can't just overlook. I'm too old for this conflict, for this chaos. I need peace."

Noah nodded slowly, absorbing her words. He felt a pang in his chest, an ache he had been trying to ignore since he arrived. He had known this was the more likely possibility, but hearing it still struck him.

He looked at Sarah with a small, bittersweet smile. "Alright then. This is where we part ways. I wish you the best, Sarah."

She managed a weak smile, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "You too," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. Inside, she was breaking, feeling the finality of his words like a knife twisting in her heart. She watched him turn to leave, and as he walked away, it felt like a part of her soul was walking out the door with him.

She closed the door, the click of the latch sealing the space between them forever. She stood there, her hands trembling, trying to process what had just happened. Layla hovered nearby, silent for once, her usual biting words replaced by a quiet curiosity, a question lingering in her eyes.

Without looking at her daughter, Sarah spoke, her voice distant. "The food is ready. Eat, and then go to sleep. You have school tomorrow." With that, she turned and made her way to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Layla stood in stunned silence, watching as her mother disappeared down the hallway, her form small and defeated.

As Noah walked down the street, he felt an emptiness settle over him. The confrontation had stripped him bare. He knew this wasn't just an end with Sarah—it was a severing of the softer part of himself, the part that had dared to hope for something simple, something real.

Yet, he also knew that his decision to walk away was the right one. He would not force Sarah to choose between him and her own daughter. This was a battle he had to leave behind, no matter how much it stung.

"I wonder what she would say if she knew that I'm slowly coming back to my true-self."

A face from the depths of his memory emerged—someone he hadn't thought about in years, someone who had once seen the darker side of him and walked away. Her name was lost in the quiet whisper of the past, but her face was as vivid as ever. She'd known him during those ruthless days when he hadn't hesitated to climb over anyone who got in his way. She had seen the ambition and cold calculation that had propelled him forward, but also the cost it had exacted on his soul.

For a moment, he let himself linger in the memory, feeling the sting of her disapproval. She had warned him, and tried to pull him away from that path. "One day, you'll have nothing left to hold onto, Noah," she had said, her voice laced with sadness rather than anger. "There won't be anyone who can see beyond the monster you're becoming." Her words had struck him then, but he had dismissed them, convinced that he knew what he wanted.

Now, years later, he could feel the monster she had seen, lurking just beneath the surface, pulling him back into its grip. He had tried to change, tried to bury that side of himself. But in moments like this, when his emotions were raw and his heart felt broken, he could feel that darkness seeping back in, promising him power, control, and the ability to shut out the pain.

He shook his head as if trying to clear her face from his mind, but it remained, a ghostly reminder of the life he had nearly escaped. "No," he whispered, clenching his fists, trying to reaffirm his resolve. "I'm not that person anymore."

But even as he said the words, he knew it was a fragile promise, one that could shatter with a single misstep. And deep down, a part of him wondered if he had the strength to hold onto it.

The chapter had a lot to intake, but I hope you aren't lost. This is just the beginning, and everything will clear up in the future.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

Risaliyah

Creator's Thought