Chapter9
1328 Words
THIRD PERSON’S POV
It was a fine morning. Russell was already dressed up, but his mind was far from settled. His meeting with his lawyer felt like the only thing capable of easing the weight pressing against his chest. He had stayed up most of the night cross-checking company documents and going through business laws, page after page, clause after clause. He knew his father would not go easy on him this time, and he was preparing himself for whatever move came next.
He got into his car and zoomed off to his lawyer’s office. The thought of meeting his lawyer softened him slightly, and he eased his speed, driving more patiently than before. When he arrived, he parked his car and took the elevator up to the ninth floor.
“Good morning, sir,” Lillian said, standing up from her desk.
“Good morning, Lillian. How are you?” Russell replied, masking his troubled eyes with a faint smile.
“I’m good, sir. You’re welcome. Please have a seat while I notify him that you’re here,” Lillian said politely.
“Okay,” Russell replied.
She walked into Barrister Charles’ office and returned moments later.
“You can go in now, sir,” Lillian announced.
Russell stood up and walked into his lawyer’s office. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries briefly before Russell settled into his seat.
“Do you care for tea or something hard?” Charles asked.
“Something hard will do,” Russell replied in a cold tone.
Charles stood up, walked over to his bar, poured a glass of whiskey, and dropped in two cubes of ice.
“What is really troubling you that you paid double my consultation fee just to see me today?” he asked, watching Russell closely.
He walked back and handed Russell the glass.
“Thank you,” Russell said, taking it from him.
He took a sip and fixed his gaze on Charles, who had already returned to his seat, waiting patiently.
“My father wants me to marry a woman I don’t love,” Russell began. “This is more of a command than a request. I refused to obey him, and he threatened to take away my company and make sure I didn’t inherit his as well. This is more than a problem for me. It’s a nightmare.”
Russell stood up abruptly, walked to the large office table stacked with books and files, and placed both hands on it. He leaned forward, locking eyes with Charles.
“I can’t lose my life’s work because I allowed my father to be the highest shareholder in my company,” he said, his voice heavy. “And I won’t let Robert take my place the same way he took my mother’s place.”
His eyes were engulfed with something deeper than anger.
After releasing his bottled rage, Russell returned to his seat. Charles remained calm, listening closely, watching him pour out his frustrations without interruption.
“I won’t let him take your business,” Charles said finally. “But first, you have to calm down.”
“What do you need to protect my interests if he eventually comes for me?” Russell asked.
“For now, I need time,” Charles replied. “We need to let him make the first move. When the time comes, I’ll ask for the necessary documents.”
Russell went quiet, calculating. For the first time since Charles had started representing him, he wasn’t entirely satisfied with his response. Charles had been his lawyer for years and was well acquainted with his family troubles, yet this situation felt heavier than all the others combined.
His phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was Patricia.
“Hello, Patricia,” he answered.
“Good morning, sir. Mr Scott Finch is here to see you. He says it’s urgent,” she said.
“Tell him I’ll be with him shortly. Keep him comfortable,” Russell instructed, and ended the call.
“I’ll be on my way now,” Russell said, standing up. “I’ll update you on any new developments.”
Charles stood up almost immediately. “I’ve seen cases like this before, not once, not twice,” he said. “And I’ll tell you this, be ready. Dig deeper. Gather anything that will keep you afloat. On my end, I’ll investigate both your father and the Sandman family. If anything feels off, I’ll find it.”
“Okay,” Russell replied. “Please do that. Thank you.”
He left the office and headed for the elevator, pressing the button for the first floor. His thoughts raced faster than the movement of the elevator itself. As soon as the doors opened, he walked briskly to his car and drove straight back to his office.
Scott Finch’s sudden visit unsettled him. A part of him feared his father had already made a move.
He pulled up in front of his company and walked in hurriedly, his mind spinning.
“Good morning, my friend. Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Russell said with a faint smile.
They shook hands and exchanged brief pleasantries.
“Please, follow me,” Russell said, leading him into his office.
They both sat down.
“I hope all is well,” Russell asked, his tone coated with concern.
“Does your father’s company have an issue?” Scott asked boldly.
“Not to my knowledge,” Russell replied. “Why do you ask?”
“A physical board meeting has been called by your father this weekend,” Scott said. “All the stakeholders have been summoned. No agenda was stated, and that’s why I came.”
Russell froze. His father had moved faster than he anticipated, and worse, he had been completely excluded.
“I don’t have any knowledge of the meeting agenda,” Russell said slowly. “My father didn’t inform me because it’s obvious I’m the reason for the meeting.”
“What do you mean by that?” Scott pressed.
“My father wants me to marry a woman from the Sandman family against my will,” Russell replied. “I refused, and now he’s threatening to strip me of everything I’ve built.”
“But the Sandmans are powerful,” Scott said. “Do you understand what it means to be their in-laws? In my opinion, you should reconsider.”
“I can’t let my father use me as a pawn,” Russell said firmly. “Besides, I don’t even know the woman. I’ve never met her. I only heard she lives abroad.”
“Then how do you intend to handle your father?” Scott asked. “What’s your plan?”
“For now, I have no plan,” Russell lied. “I’ll try to reason with him.”
“Make sure you come up with something before the meeting,” Scott advised. “Or better yet, marry her. Marriage isn’t always about love; it’s more about benefits.”
“I’ll do my best to make everything right,” Russell replied, forcing a strained smile.
“Alright then,” Scott said, standing up. “We’ll see this weekend. And I was never here for the records.”
“Sure,” Russell replied immediately. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.”
They shook hands firmly before Scott left.
As the door closed behind him, the world seemed to tilt. It finally sank in that the battle had begun.
Russell stood up and walked toward his bar, reaching for a bottle of whiskey. As his fingers wrapped around it, his vision blurred. His legs suddenly felt weak, unable to support his weight.
The bottle slipped from his hand and crashed loudly onto the tiled floor.
Patricia rushed into the office the moment she heard the heavy thud. She flung the door open and froze.
Russell lay motionless on the floor, shards of broken glass scattered around him.
“Security!” she screamed desperately.
- Writer
