Chapter 2
1105 Words
In the office, within the spacious executive suite, his boss, Mr. Cartwright, didn’t lift his eyes. He was reviewing a document with practised indifference.
“You sent for me, sir?” Nathan said softly.
Cartwright finally looked up. “Nathan. Sit.”
He obeyed.
“Right now, we’ve had to make some painful decisions,” Cartwright said coldly.
“You know the company’s restructuring, so we'll have to relieve you. It's nothing personal, though.”
Nathan blinked. “Sir, I’ve given everything to this job…”
“Exactly why I didn’t fire you months ago,” Cartwright interrupted. “But we can’t carry dead weight, Nathan.”
Nathan felt the ground shift.
“It is also difficult for us here, but emotions don't run a company.” Cartwright finalised, sinking back into his chair. “Your ID has been deactivated. Security will escort you out.”
And they really did escort him out, for he now stood in the rain outside the building, holding a cardboard box.
His phone pinged, and he checked:
Balance: £0.00
Account frozen. Please get in touch with your branch.
His breath caught. He laughed bitterly. “Of course…”
He began walking home in the grey drizzle, box in hand, mind blank.
Home wasn’t far; it was just a rundown apartment block he’d barely been holding onto. But when he arrived, the rain trailing him like a curse, Jessica was waiting in the doorway. She wore a dark coat and had a small folder.
Nathan blinked at her. “Jess?”
She looked stunning. Too stunning. Her makeup was flawless, and her posture cold.
“I’ve had enough, Nathan,” she said, handing him the divorce folder. “I want a divorce.”
“What?” he whispered, opening the folder. Legal documents stared back at him. “You can’t be serious…”
“You have nothing to offer. No good job, no money, no future, no asset,” she said. “I wasted enough years believing you'd change.”
He looked up, pain clouding his eyes. “Jessica, I lost everything. I needed you to stay with me—”
“I’m tired of this struggle called waiting for better days.” She finalised. “I hope you find someone who'll be understanding enough.”
Behind her, a black limousine pulled up. One of its doors opened, and he stepped out, the dim-witted baboon of a man, Silas.
“Ready, love?” Silas asked, glancing briefly at Nathan with smug indifference.
Jessica flashed him a smile and pecked him on the lips. They both entered the Limousin and pulled away.
From a black sedan, bank officials emerged, umbrellas and briefcases in hand.
“Mr. Nathan,” said one of them. “This property has been repossessed. You’ve been served notice, and today we’re taking full possession.”
Nathan stood in disbelief. “Please. Just give me till next week.”
“No negotiations,” the man said curtly. “Pack what you can. The rest becomes property of the bank.”
Within thirty minutes, Nathan stood outside in the pouring rain with just a duffel bag. He didn’t even own an umbrella.
He lost everything—home, wife, job, and dignity.
As he stood under the rain, he had no plan. Nowhere to go. But one name echoed in his mind: Albert.
Albert was a former college roommate. Years ago, they’d lived off instant noodles and shared dreams of becoming successful men. Nathan hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, not since things began spiralling, but desperation leaves no room for pride.
He reached Albert’s flat in Peckham just past 3 PM. The lights were on inside. Warm, inviting.
Nathan raised a shaky hand and knocked.
There were footsteps, then the door opened partially, revealing Albert’s face.
“Nathan?”
“Hey, man…” Nathan tried a smile, though he knew he looked pitiful. “Can we talk? I— I need a place to crash. Just for the night. Things are… bad.”
Albert glanced behind him, then stepped halfway outside, keeping the door mostly shut.
“Mate, it’s not a good time.”
Nathan buried his shame. “I just lost my job. Jessica’s left, and the bank took the house. Can I crash with you tonight?”
Albert winced. “Truly, I'm touched, but my wife’s not comfortable with guests. Especially at the last minute.”
“I’m not a stranger, Albert.”
“I know, man,” Albert said, avoiding his eyes. “But it’s complicated. Look, maybe try one of those shelters in the city.”
Then SLAM. The door banged shut.
Nathan stood there, drenched and frustrated. He dragged himself back into the street, numb.
Just then, a shrill scream rang out from the dockyard.
Not far off, down a narrow loading pier, three shadows moved.
One was kneeling on the ground with a sincere plea, blood seeping into his white shirt. Two masked men hovered around him.
One of them kicked the man hard, very hard, so that he let out a deep roar of pain.
The second masked man raised a gun.
“No!” the man on the ground wheezed. “Spare me, please!!”
BLAM.
The gun went off as blood spurted from the man's heart.
Nathan flinched.
Nathan waited for the assailants to take to their heels before he rushed to the dying man.
He dropped to his knees and took the man's head in his hands.
The man’s eyes fluttered. He gripped Nathan’s wrist with surprising strength.
“You… you’re not one of them?”
“No. No! I just saw,”
“Good…” The man coughed up blood. “Listen carefully…”
Nathan leaned in.
“My name is Logan Pierce. Everything I own, including accounts, businesses, and offshore records… It’s all in this chip.” He pressed a small object into Nathan’s palm. “It is of no use to me now.”
“What? No, wait, don’t die on me!”
And with his final breath, Logan Pierce slumped into death.
Nathan dragged the body behind a crate, pocketed the flash, and headed for the nearest cyber cafe.
Logan Pierce. He typed the name into Google’s search bar, and the results that stared back at him gave him goosebumps.
CEO. Real estate tycoon. Tech magnate. Billionaire. The individual vanished two nights ago under mysterious circumstances.
There were headlines from major outlets:
Where Is Logan Pierce?
Disappearance of Billionaire Sparks Rumours of Political Scandal.
Police Offer Reward for Leads.
Nathan sat back, stunned.
Was the man he had found bleeding on the dock Logan Pierce?
- Writer
