Signed by Fate

CHAPTER TWO

Miriam, shocked, flips through the pages of the file twice more. As though a third read might change what was on the page. It didn't.

She shoved back from the table angrily and stomped out, the file clutched to her chest like something that might still save her if she held it tightly enough.

“This can't be happening, my company…my reputation. ”She muttered alone in the hallway. She pressed her palm to her sternum. “Oh God.” I hope this is a dream. She pinched the back of her own hand, hard enough, and still felt nothing change.

Three floors down, a man named Damian was crossing the lobby with no idea that this was happening. He had business on the second floor — a contract to close with Founderson A.P. — but his friend Jerry worked one floor above that, which happens to be Miriam's company, and Damian never came to this building without stopping to say hello to his friend first.

Miriam reached the elevator and pressed the call button, but it is inscribed “occupied'' at the top. She waited for her turn while arms crossed in disbelief, blinking hard with tears slowly running down her cheeks.

Kylie, walking with a stack of files balanced against one hip. She had been searching the floor for her. When she saw Miriam's face, she didn't bother with formality.

"Ma'am.”

Miriam turns slowly. Kylie notices the tears and feels so emotional. She hands her a handkerchief with her left hand.

I suggest you use the back stairs to avoid the press. This is a critical time. Kylie said.

Miriam nodded. Turning already and heading to the back stairs when the elevator chimed open behind her and a shoulder collided with hers so hard enough to knock her down.

“Are you mad?” The words were out of her mouth like a crazy mad woman.

“I'm not mad,” Damian said—flat, unbothered. Like her anger meant nothing.

Miriam hissed under her breath and pushed past him without another look. He turned to watch her go, he recognized her but couldn't fully tell. His eyes were a bit squinty, with his forehead creased, showing a bit of anger. He straightened his jacket and continued walking towards Jerry's office.

Kylie stood frozen for a second longer than the moment.

Was that Damian? The highly influential billionaire whose name made grown executives stammer? She let out a slow breath.

---

Jerry's door was open before Damian even finished knocking.

"Come in, come in — what a surprise, my friend." Jerry was up and around the desk in seconds, pulling him into the kind of hug that only survives between people who've known each other since before either of them had money.

It's been a while. Mr. Damian says.

Mr. Jerry responds, Oh yes, since we last saw you at your goddaughter's birthday, at least. With a smile on his face waving him towards a chair.

“Sit, sit. Drink?”

Mr. Damian settling into the chair with a straight posture with his back leaning. The kind that describes wealth, power, and confidence.

"Whiskey."

"Of course." Jerry poured. "She asks about you, you know. Everyone does. You're a hard man to reach these days."

And they both laugh.

Well, it's one business or the other taking all my time. I'll find time to come visit everybody someday. Damian says.

Jerry says, "Keep to your promise anyway.” Jerry handed him the glass. You know that your goddaughter will be hurt.

Damian's mouth softened, just slightly. "Don't tell her anything yet. I don't want to break her fragile heart.

Jerry laughed out loud. "You and your goddaughter. Inseparable since she could walk."

"I love her." Damian drank his whiskey.

"So what brings you here, Jerry asked.

Founderson A.P., second floor. I'm here to seal a contract. Damian says. Figured I'd say hello on the way.

That's the huge deal you're closing?. Jerry whistled low. “My childhood friend, my highly influential billionaire closing contracts before lunch. Mr. Jerry teases.

Damian smiled this time revealing his white, dented teeth. He let the silence sit a beat before he spoke again.

I want to ask a question. He said with a straight face.

Go ahead. Mr. Jerry says.

"I bumped into a lady on my way up here." His tone shifted, cooler. "In the hallway. I know her — or I should know her — but I can't place it."

She was also rude to me though. He said with a cold tone.

Do you know who she is?

"Describe her." Jerry asked.

"Tall, blonde, short with a curvy figure. She had a temper on her, for someone who ran into me and not the other way around.”

Jerry laughed once, short and surprised. "That's Miriam. CEO, upper floor."

Damian said nothing, just turned the name over in his head. Then he nodded quietly.

Jerry chipped in. “Rough day for her, actually”. His amusement faded. "There's a scandal at the other part of the company.” Some investment turned out to be fraudulent. I don't know the full details, though.

He says, shrugging his shoulders.

That explains why the press is camped at the entrance of the building. Damian said calmly but with a smirk on his face before he smoothed it away”. He finished the whiskey in one motion, dropped the glass on the table and stood, adjusting his cuffs and tie perfectly.

"Leaving already?”. Jerry asked.

Yes. Tight schedule." Damian was already at the door. "Don't tell her anything, understood?" He pointed, half-joking, half not.

"Yes, boss."

Later tonight, though — Louis V.? Catch up properly?"

Damian paused at that, considering it a good idea. "I'll make the reservation."

He left the way he'd entered — unhurried, but somehow gone before Jerry had fully registered the goodbye.

Jerry shook his head, grinning. "Typical billionaire s**t," he muttered to the empty room humorously.

---

Down in the garage, Miriam sat behind the wheel of her car without starting it, hands still on ten and two, staring at nothing angrily.

I need some air. Quiet. Probably a drink.

Louis V. It was the only place she could think out loud without an audience.

She pulled out of the garage too fast, tires chirping against the concrete. Her phone lit up over and over in the cupholder — calls, texts, all of it — and she let every single one go unanswered.