Shawaty’s Betrayal

The will “Your father’s will,” the lawyer echoed. It’s already been two days since my late father’s funeral. My older brother, Shengli, and I sat on the two chairs behind the office desk, dressed in custom-tailored charcoal suits made from fine Italian wool. We were seated to hear our father’s will. President Ying, our now deceased father, owned the most productive company in all of Beijing, with branches spread across the city. It was pouring down outside. The wind was strong. I listened to the rain droplets on the window, still wondering what my father had for me and my brother. No doubt we were his sons but from different mothers. We had never gotten along since childhood—at least my father made sure of that. He would always say, “In business, there are no families, no love, no weakness, just ruthlessness,” and he raised us that way. “I, Ying, founder and President of Ying Group, hereby pass on the two highest arms of my company to my sons, Shengli and Lei Fang. Shengli shall take control of YingTech Group, and Lei Fang shall lead YingAviations Group. After three years, whichever branch makes the most profit, its leader shall take my place as President of the entire Ying Empire. The other shall remain head of his division, but report to the President. This is my will,” the lawyer read out loud. I turned to look at my brother, his face stoic and straight. He didn’t say a word but remained calm. The lawyer worked us through a few pieces of paperwork. “That would be all for now, gentlemen. See you in three years’ time,” the lawyer said and left the room. It was just me and my brother in the cold, dimly lit room. For some minutes, no one said anything—we just sat there, legs crossed, facing forward. “Brother,” Shengli called out in a mocking tone, veering to face me. It was rare to hear him call me brother; at least we had our father to thank for that. “I never considered you one,” I replied in a calm but striking tone. “If you consider me competition, who am I to object?” Shengli asked, wearing an evil smile. Shengli was the kind to stir up trouble. He was calmly irritating, the kind who never raised his voice, but whose pauses, mild smiles, and patient replies made you wish he would lose his composure just once. He stood up, adjusted his suit, and walked two steps to where I was seated. He lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, “You know you could just back out and let me take Father’s place.” I stood up, picked my notepad from the table, and headed for the door. “You know I am getting it right?” Shengli shouted. His words caught me mid-step, and I halted. I could feel the desperation in the weight of his voice. I stood still, letting the silence press on. I pressed the button on top of my pen, slowly, slowly, and then faster in a split second. I then looked over my shoulder and said, “I’ll love to see you try,” I murmured with a smile, gentle, almost apologetic. I left the room, slamming the door hard behind me. I knew getting the position of President of the company wasn’t going to be easy, especially when my brother was involved, but I was willing to do everything possible to get there. I got down into the garage where my Rolls-Royce was parked. I opened the car and got in. Reflecting on what had just transpired, I knew I was in for a game, and I wasn’t ready to back off. I took out my glasses from their casing, put them on, turned on the car, and zoomed off. As I raced through the streets, the thought of my sick mother came to my mind. My mother had always told me to stay out of trouble and not get into fights with anyone, especially when it came to my brother. The competition for President was going to be a hell of a fight, and I didn’t want to get Mother worried. Still thinking and speeding, I wasn’t quick to notice the girl crossing the road. By the time I did, coming to a halt was impossible. Looking through my windscreen, I could see how afraid she was. Was she pretty? Yes, she was very pretty. This wasn’t the time to think of how pretty she was. I had to get out of the way. As the car drew nearer, I quickly turned the steering wheel. The tires screamed as I swerved sharply away from her. In that fear, she lost track of her movement and fell to the ground, scattering her groceries on the road. As my car turned, circling around her, she quickly squatted, burying her face in her hands, afraid of moving vehicles. Conscious of the fact that the car was still moving, I pulled the brakes. Screech! The tires kissed the road with a furious grip, bringing the car to a sudden halt.