Chapter 532 Fueling the Ghost Rumors

Oliver returned to the Weaver family mansion.

He told his mother, Patricia Edwards, about his visit to the Johnson family mansion today and how he might have accidentally killed someone.

Patricia grabbed Oliver's ear. "Do you want this to get back to your grandfather?"

Oliver made a swearing gesture. "Mom, this is absolutely the last time! I know, Dad died early, and our family relies on you alone! Don't worry, Mom, I'll follow you closely and learn how to manage the company! I won't be any worse than Dylan!"

As Patricia listened, the anger in her eyes gradually turned into affection.

Oliver then jogged behind Patricia and started massaging her shoulders.

Patricia smiled. "Let me tell you, your cousin Dyla's killing it at the Platan Heights mansion in Houston. Rumor has it he's even schmoozing with the president of Maple Group. At yesterday's board meeting, Simon Weaver gave him a shoutout in front of all the bigwigs!"

"Maple Group?" Oliver's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, we're eyeing a strategic partnership with them. Listen, don't screw this up with the outsiders. If you do, even I can't bail you out!"

"But—"

Patricia's tone turned icy. "No buts! This is final. Remember, Simon only promised you the inheritance when you hit thirty because your dad, Gavin Weaver, saved his life! If you can't cut it as heir, Simon's loyalty to the Weaver family means he'll pick someone els!"

After Patricia said all this, Oliver understood everything.

But tonight, did he mention which family he belonged to in front of Ryder and the Johnson family?

No, right?

Yes, definitely not!

Oliver decided to brush it off and made up his mind to steer clear of Maple Group and the Johnsons for now.

"Mom, how about finding me a small gig where I can start from the bottom?"

"Seriously?" Patricia lit up. "That's fantastic! I'll get it sorted ASAP! You know, if you'd just listened to me and tied the knot with the Moore heiress, we wouldn't even be sweating over the inheritance!"

"Lisa? That plus-sized lady? Nah, she's not my type. But I gotta hand it to the guy who married her—he's got guts!" Oliver wrapped his arms around Patricia from behind, laying on the charm. "But if I ever settle down, she's gotta be as stunning as you, Mom!"

Truth is, Patricia was the talk of Aurora City back in her day. Even now, though time's passed, she's still got that elegance and grace that leaves other women her age green with envy.

Growing up with a mom like that, Oliver's standards were sky-high. Ordinary women just didn't cut it for him.

It's a sore spot for him, honestly.

He finally thought he'd found his match with Clara, only for some creep to swoop in and ruin it!

And then there's Abigail—that witch who left him impotent!

'The Johnsons! Maple Group! Once I get my health sorted and lock down my claim to the Weaver fortune, I'm coming for you—mark my words!' Oliver stewed for a moment before shooting the breeze with his mom, Patricia, a little longer.

Then he went upstairs to his bedroom.

Just as he took off his clothes to take a shower, he received a call from his good buddy Tyler.

"Oliver, what the hell? You were at Rigal District Stadium? You almost offed someone! Do you have any clue how big of a deal that place is to the Youngs, man?" Tyler's rant left Oliver speechless.

Less than two hours, and the news had already hit Tyler? Damn.

"Hey, you deaf or what? Oliver, talk to me! You really think you can hold onto your spot as the Weaver heir without my family backing you up?"

Tyler's pissed-off tone made Oliver snap back, "What, so I borrowed your family's excavator and a few workers. Big deal!"

"You're seriously saying that? All those guys are in the hospital now! And have you seen the crap online? They're saying the excavator was moving at night, fueling those ghost rumors!"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "What's that got to do with me? Wasn't it you who hired people to fake the hauntings so you could snag that land cheap? Now that it's blown up, you're pinning it on me?"

"Whatever! Oliver, I'm not in the mood to argue. Just do one thing—face the media tomorrow and clean this mess up. Clear the air, and I'll let it slide!"

"Oh, Mr. Young, why should I listen to you! You want me to go? Are you out of your mind?"

Oliver sneered!

There was no way Oliver would go to the media to confess!

He wanted to stay far away from this mess!

"Oliver, do you have a death wish?"

Before Tyler could finish, Oliver hung up.

Oliver grabbed his pants, put on his clothes, and hurried downstairs!

Patricia was in the living room watching TV and drinking red wine.

"Mom! Mom! I've figured it out—get me a private jet, ASAP. I'm heading to some small town to start from the bottom!"

Patricia was thrown off.

Oliver pressed on, "Mom, just say yes! If I sleep on this, I might bail. You know me—I've gotta strike while the iron's hot."

"Fine, fine, I'll set it up right now!" Patricia got it and let Oliver do his thing.

By midnight, Oliver was on a private jet, leaving New York.

The next morning.

Tyler knocked on the door of the Weaver family mansion.

But Patricia informed him that Oliver had gone to work at the grassroots level.

"What?"

Patricia picked up on the tension and looked concerned, "Tyler, did Oliver mess something up?"

"No, no, I just needed a favor from him. Since he's gone, I'll head out."

Tyler kept it polite on the outside, but inside, he was ripping Oliver a new one!

"Tyler, since you're here, why don't you stay for breakfast?"

"No need!"

Tyler left the Weaver family mansion and hurried to Rigal Distric Stadium to take charge.

To clarify the incident from last night!

Since Oliver didn't step up to take the heat, Tyler couldn't risk pissing off the Johnsons directly.

So, Tyler shelled out a hefty payout to the injured workers and made sure everyone was on the same page for the media: last night's mess was all on the foreman, Bethany Parker!

The Johnsons had crossed Bethany, so he rounded up a crew of workers and rolled in with an excavator to stir up trouble for them!

In reality, Bethany was just Oliver's fall guy.

Soon, the clarification press conference began.

Bethany was the first to face the media and explain what happened last night.

By the end, he laid it on thick with his remorse and threw in a heartfelt apology to the Johnsons!

The reporters ate it up—so that's the story!

But, true to their nosy nature, they swung their cameras and mics toward a few of the injured workers, grilling them about the night's events.

These guys, totally out of their element with all the attention, froze up!

They exchanged panicked glances, eyes wide with fear!

Sweat started dripping down their foreheads like faucets!

Overnight Riches
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