A few days later, sitting comfortably in his throne on top of the steel and glass skyscr.a.p.er was Tristan Yang who busied himself with the erratic zigzag lines of green and red displayed in his monitor.

His eyes squinted. He focused on the lines, studying the market trend rating of a reality show that would soon face its demise, depending on his final say.

It had been slugging in the ratings department ever since the blow-up of social media influencer-type of contents.

As the heir to Yang Corporation, Tristan was used to serving death warrants on shows that didn't fare well with bringing in viewers who would then bring in advertis.e.m.e.nts that would pay for the entirety of its run in television.

He wanted to see more, or maybe, he was hoping to see a possible uptick in the trend of the show in the future. After all, the show looked promising, it just couldn't rouse the interest of the masses during its trial run.

This ratings battle had been an ongoing struggle that Yang Corporation tried to come into terms with.

With the emergence of free contents in the web, why would people pay for cable shows with carefully written shows when they could simply watch dumb yet funny videos for free in an app?

Times have changed, and Yang Corporation, a media conglomerate, was having a hard time adjusting. 

It didn't help in their transition that the board of directors of Yang Corporation were balding old geezers who were conservative and so closed-minded into shifting into the new era of media streaming.

Flinging the pen from his hand towards his desk, Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Usually, if he made up his mind, he would sign it right away and pile it into the stack of shows that would be given a cancellation notice, except at that moment, he placed the paper upside down, giving himself more time to think about the show's fate. 

A soft knock on the door made him snap his attention from the desk towards the door across the room.

"Mr. Yang," his secretary named Mimi trailed off with a professional smile on her face upon entering the office. "I received a ping earlier. You might want to check the article."

Tristan held out his hand, waiting for Mimi to pass him the tablet she was hugging. He had a stoic look on his face. Normally, articles about his family were the ones that Tristan had to filter before it would be sent to the press.

It had been a long time since he received a ping which was an article of his dad sailing in the Caribbean seas with his mistress, which was why he was itching to find out what news Mimi was bearing with although he had to contain his excitement.

As someone who grew up running along the halls, and combing every nook and cranny of Yang Corporation, Tristan knew how a single article could propel one to the stars or cause eternal damnation. 

It was also the reason why Tristan Yang has one rule: If ever an article contains his name or any distant relatives name, it should need his approval first before it gets published.

Owning a media conglomerate sure had its perks, and Tristan Yang used it to his advantage to keep the Yang Family's name as pristine as possible or to expand its networks.

That was why, as soon as he stepped foot inside his office on his first day after graduating in college, he gave Mimi the task of sifting news which had a Yang name written over it.

"Tell me, Mimi, is it good news or bad news?" Tristan chuckled, a corner of his mouth tipped up in a half smirk, half smile kind of way.

"Eeeeh," Mimi voiced out a vowel, tilting her head to the side. "To me it is good news, not really sure about your sister."

"Sister?"

"Ms. Olivia, sir."

Tristan's brows furrowed, but he quickly schooled his features. He quickly accepted the tablet and thanked Mimi who was standing at the other side of his desk. 

She waited in her spot, her hands neatly folded in front of her whilst her eyes roamed in the office, looking for something that might need her attention.

The longer he did, the deeper the creases on his forehead got, and on top of that, he didn't realize he was gritting his teeth the whole time as well.

After reading up to the end of the article at the bottom of the screen, he scrolled up one more time and checked the photos.

Arranged in sequential order was a timeline of Olivia and Maxen's love affair, starting with a photo of Maxen, Olivia and a cropped face of Oliver. Maxen's cufflinks were circled, and so was  Olivia's bangle which Tristan found silly.

However, nobody could deny the connection between Olivia and Maxen in the other photos, and to make matters worse, most of it was sourced from Olivia's social media account. 

Her photos were then linked to photos of either what Maxen was wearing that day or where he was spotted, citing the uncanny coincidences of the pair being in the same place at the same time.

Tristan didn't want to lie to himself, but he had to give credit where credit was due, and that was to the researcher who wrote the article who did a fantastic job in piecing the puzzle.

"Are you f*cking kidding me?" he cursed under his breath. When he realized what he said, he cleared his throat and apologized, "Sorry. Didn't mean to curse. Please don't tell my mom, but who the heck wrote this?"

Mimi smiled. "Elsa Tang from the Entertainment News Department. Just waiting for your go signal, Mr. Yang."

Go signal meant, the news would be shredded and obliterated from the face of the earth.

He was lazily sitting on his chair, his legs were stretched and crossed by the ankles, while his hands were resting on top of his stomach.

Whatever was running in Tristan's mind, Mimi didn't know and she didn't want to bother to try and figure it out. After working under him for years, she knew how deceiving Tristan's easy-going aura could get. 

For one, he had the knack of using his charming smile to conceal his thoughts, and it was only until he would utter the words that Mimi would get a glimpse of his calculating thought process.

"Thank you, Mimi. Go ahead," Tristan said, tapping his index finger on the table.

Mimi took that as her cue to leave, so she bowed, and then pivoted on her spot to head towards the door.

She was about to cross the threshold when she heard Tristan call her name, halting her from her steps.

"And Mimi," Tristan trailed off. "I want that computer station confiscated and wiped out."

Mimi replied with a professional smile, and curtly nodded. Although she found it odd that Tristan would go to such lengths, she still had to bid as told by her master. 

She didn't want to question his reason for such a drastic measure for she knew Tristan's frame of mind was always ten steps ahead of others.

Reaching her station a few steps outside Tristan's office, she immediately got into motion and sent an email to the IT department stating that there was a security compromise in one of the computer stations, specifically, Elsa Tang's computer.

After sending the email, Mimi shook her head, feeling sorry for Elsa. Climbing up the ladders in the corporate world sure did not come easy especially when you have to start at the bottom. 

It was why digging up stories made of tiaras and diamonds was a once in a lifetime opportunity that could help one ascend a step higher in their career. 

But what could one do if the people sitting on top had the last say in everything, manipulating whatever they wanted the world to see in their favor?

Mimi jerked in her seat and snapped out of her reverie when her phone rang. Answering the call, she stood up in attention upon hearing the name of Tristan Yang's guest that afternoon.