Deception and demand
887 Words
CHAPTER TWO: DECEPTION AND DEMAND
BLACKWOOD'S MANSION
Richard Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Corporation and the city's wealthiest entrepreneur, stood tall at six-foot-two, his chiseled features and piercing blue eyes commanding attention. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders.
He stepped into his mansion, grateful to have left the office early. A nagging headache had been plaguing him all day.
As he entered the study, the rich aroma of leather and scotch wafted through the air. Richard poured himself a glass, feeling the smooth liquor burn down his throat. He gazed out the window, the city skyline twinkling like diamonds against the evening sky. His butler, Mr. Samuels, greeted him.
"Welcome home, sir. I wasn't expecting you until later."
Richard nodded. "I wasn't feeling well. Any messages?"
Mr. Samuels hesitated. "Actually, sir, your grandfather, George Blackwood, visited earlier today."
Richard's gaze narrowed. "What did he want?"
"He asked me to remind you to call him when you returned home, sir," Mr. Samuels replied.
Richard sighed, knowing what was coming.
He made his way to the study, pouring himself a glass of scotch before dialing his grandfather's number.
"Richard, boy!" George boomed over the phone. "I've been waiting for your call."
"What is it, Grandfather?" Richard asked, bracing himself.
"When are you going to settle down and give me some great-grandchildren?" George demanded.
Richard rolled his eyes. "We've discussed this, Grandfather."
Richard's frustration simmered. "I'm not interested in marrying anyone right now."
George huffed. "You're as stubborn as your parents were."
Richard's thoughts drifted to his parents, who had passed away when he was a child.
As he spoke on the phone, his deep voice remained calm, but a hint of annoyance seeped through.
"I understand, Grandfather," Richard said, rolling his eyes. "You want me to settle down and produce an heir."
Old George Blackwood's voice boomed over the phone, laced with frustration. "You're thirty-five, Richard! When will you take responsibility? My friends have great-grandchildren already!"
Richard's gaze drifted to the city skyline outside his window. "And I'm sure they're all thrilled to have their great-grandchildren calling them 'old'."
George's tone turned venomous. "You think you're funny, don't you? Well, let me tell you, boy, you're not amusing anyone."
Richard's smile twisted. "I'm shaking with fear, Grandfather."
George's anger escalated. "You'll be sorry when I'm gone, and you're left with nothing but regret!"
Richard's expression turned cold. "I'm sorry, Grandfather. Sorry that I don't meet your expectations."
The line went silent, then George spat out, "Fine. Do what you want. But mark my words, Richard, you'll pay for your arrogance."
Richard ended the call, his eyes narrowing.
Just then, Mr. Samuels cleared his throat.
"Sir, I apologize for the interruption, but I have a personal matter to discuss with you."
Richard turned, his expression softening.
"What is it, Samuels?"
Mr. Samuels's face etched with concern. "It's my wife, sir. She's ill, and... well, we need your help."
Richard's gaze locked onto Samuels, intrigue sparking within.
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AVA'S POV
I drifted off to sleep beside Mom's hospital bed, exhausted from the day's events.
My phone buzzed, jolting me awake. Hannah's name flashed on the screen.
"Hannah?" I whispered, answering.
"Hey, sis! How's it going?" Hannah asked, her cheerful tone a stark contrast to my somber mood.
I forced a smile, feeling guilty for hiding the truth. "It's... going."
Hannah's voice turned serious. "I've been trying to reach Mom, but she's not answering my calls. Is everything okay?"
My heart sank. I couldn't bear to tell her the truth.
"Mom's... sleeping now," I lied, trying to sound convincing. "Her phone's been acting up, so she hasn't been able to answer."
Hannah's concern lingered. "Okay, but is she doing alright? I've been worried."
I swallowed hard, maintaining the facade. "Yeah, she's... fine. Just resting."
Hannah's tone lightened. "Okay, good. Tell her I love her, and I'll try calling again later."
I nodded, even though Hannah couldn't see me. "Will do."
As we chatted, my guilt grew. I hated deceiving my sister, but Dad's words echoed in my mind: "Not now, Ava. She's stressed enough with school."
We wrapped up our conversation, and I hung up, feeling like I'd just dug myself deeper into a hole.
Mom's frail hand lay in mine, a reminder of the secret I kept.
Why was it so hard to tell Hannah the truth?
Fear of worrying her?
Fear of breaking her heart?
I gazed at Mom, my eyes welling up with tears.
How could I keep this secret from my own sister?
After the phone call, my heart remained troubled. I gazed at Mom, her pale face a map of worry lines.
"Mom," I whispered, taking her frail hand in mine. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this from Hannah. She's going to find out eventually."
Mom's eyes fluttered open weakly, her gaze locking onto mine.
"Ava..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. "I'm here, Mom. I'm not going anywhere."
Mom's eyes drifted shut, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
I leaned forward, my forehead resting against her hand.
"What am I doing, Mom? Why can't I just tell Hannah the truth?"
The machines surrounding us beeped steadily, but Mom's silence was the only answer I received.
- Writer
