Chapter 8 : Bright Idea
1528 Words
Lucas’ POV
I’d been sitting in the car for several minutes, staring blankly at the windshield, still unsure how to feel about my conversation with Dalia.
It wasn’t my fault.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
But the guilt wouldn’t go away.
How the hell was I supposed to know my own lawyer would end up scamming her?
And yet, here I was — feeling like I’d personally handed her over to that snake.
If you think about it, she should actually be thanking me.
If I hadn’t discovered what Rivera was doing, she’d still be getting played right now, smiling at the man who was robbing her blind.
I sighed heavily, the kind that came from somewhere deep and tired. Women!
“Sir, where to?” my driver asked carefully.
I caught his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Back to the head office. I’ve got work to do. Time to clean house.”
He nodded and started the engine, but I heard him chuckle softly under his breath.
“What’s so funny?” I muttered.
“Nothing, sir,” he said, still smiling.
“Damn it,” I groaned, leaning back against the seat. “I’m supposed to be a CEO, not a full-time investigator. Now tell me—how am I supposed to find a wife when all my time gets eaten up cleaning up other people’s messes?”
He didn’t answer, but his grin in the mirror said enough.
By the time we reached the head office, I was done playing nice.
First stop: HR.
“File a termination order for Atty. Rivera,” I said the moment I walked in. “Effective immediately.”
Then, without waiting for a reply, I called in a private investigation team — my own. If Rivera could pull this off under my nose, there was no way he was working alone.
Someone had to be helping him — maybe even a few people.
And considering how long this operation had been running right under my firm’s name, it was impossible to believe the rest of the staff had no idea.
Corruption always leaves footprints. You just have to know where to look.
“I need that termination letter on his desk as soon as possible,” I told my HR head. “And if he has any questions, tell him to talk to me directly—if he still has the guts to show his face.”
“Yes, sir,” she said quickly, scribbling notes.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, and let out a long, exhausted sigh.
With all the chaos going on in the company, I suddenly found myself appreciating my dad a lot more.
How the hell did he manage all this back in his day?
The man ran multiple companies — and somehow survived the drama without losing all his hair.
He’s honestly a legend.
A terrifying, cigar-smoking legend.
Speaking of Dad—
I suddenly sat up straight and grabbed my phone.
“Hello, Dad…”
“Yes, son. Tell me.”
“Uh, I have something important to tell you.”
“Let me guess — you’re getting married? Or finally giving me a grandchild?”
I nearly choked.
“What—? Hell no! Where did you even get that idea? Geez, Dad. I just wanted to tell you that I caught Rivera doing under-the-table deals. He’s been using our firm for his own benefit.”
“Oh, okay. So what did you do?”
“I fired him.”
“Good.”
I blinked.
“Good? That’s it? Not even a ‘Well done, son!’ or ‘I’m proud of you!’?”
“You already did what needed to be done. What else do you want me to say?”
“Are you even okay?”
“To be honest—no! I was expecting good news from you.”
I frowned. “Good news like what?”
“Like you getting married. Or at least dating someone serious!”
I groaned. “Dad, are you serious right now?”
“I’m a businessman, son. Not a joker.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I want a grandchild. I’m disappointed that you don’t take me seriously.”
“Because that’s impossible!”
“Nothing’s impossible if you put your mind to it! Damn it, I’m turning seventy-five next week! Who knows if I’ll still be alive by the next one?”
“Dad, please. You’re too stubborn to die.”
“Shut the hell up! Give me a grandson, Lucas, or I’ll cut you off the inheritance.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you threatening me right now?”
“Consider it motivation.”
“Let’s just talk when I get home. I’m planning to throw you a nice birthday party, like always.”
“Nope. We’re not meeting. Don’t even think of coming back to the Philippines until you bring a wife with you.”
“What? You can’t be serious—”
“I meant it, Lucas. No wife, no entry. End of discussion.”
Click.
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, dumbfounded.
“What the hell just happened to my dad?”
I was still trying to process whatever emotional hurricane my dad had just dropped on me when my phone started buzzing.
For a split second, I thought it was him again — ready for round two of “Find a Wife or Lose Your Inheritance.”
But no.
Of course, life had other plans.
“Yes, what?” I answered flatly.
“Hey, man! Long time no talk. Looks like Uncle’s been drowning you in work, huh?” came the teasing voice of Jacob Arevello — one half of the infamous Arevello twins.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Great. Just what I needed.
“Yes. Thanks to you and your twin geniuses,” I replied dryly.
He laughed — that loud, smug kind of laugh that instantly made me regret answering the call.
These two had been the bane of my existence since college.
If being annoying were a profession, they’d be CEOs by now.
I still couldn’t figure out how we’d even become friends. Maybe because we went to the same schools — from kindergarten all the way through college — thanks to our parents being best friends who apparently thought tradition meant torturing me with these two idiots for life.
“Dude, you sound pissed. Don’t tell me you still haven’t moved on from that model ex of yours?” Jacob teased.
“What? No. I’ve got bigger problems than that.”
“Like what?”
“My dad won’t let me go home for his birthday… unless I bring a wife.”
Silence. Then—
Jacob burst out laughing.
“Wait—WHAT? Out of nowhere?!”
“Exactly. He just dropped it on me like he was asking me to pick up groceries.”
“Maybe he’s just bored of you. Old people get weird like that. My dad started collecting bird figurines last month. Maybe yours wants to collect daughters-in-law.”
“Wow, thanks for the insight, Dr. Freud.”
“Relax. It’s probably an age thing. It’ll pass.”
“I hope so. Because I have no idea where I’m supposed to get a wife. I just broke up with Vangie.”
“Then find someone new! Or better yet…” I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Hire one.”
I groaned. “Jacob—”
“No, listen! Just get a woman to pretend to be your wife for a month. Easy fix.”
“Where exactly am I supposed to find a woman like that?”
“Red-light district. Plenty of volunteers there!”
“Are you insane?”
“Hey, desperate times, man. Unless you know someone who’s broke enough to say yes.”
I froze mid-eye-roll.
Broke… desperate…
Wait.
Before I could finish the thought, the door to my office swung open and my secretary walked in.
“Sir, your father sent me an email,” she said carefully. “He asked me to update the company report.”
“What now?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
“He revised your business schedule for the month. You no longer have any trips planned to the Philippines.”
“What? Then when can I go back?”
She hesitated. “Um… it says ‘until further notice,’ sir.”
I stared at her, jaw dropping. “Damn it. He’s actually serious about this.”
She looked like she wanted to disappear. “Also, sir… there’s a woman on the line. She’s been desperately trying to reach you.”
“A woman?”
“Yes, sir. I asked if it was business-related, but she said it’s personal. She said she really needs your help.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“What’s her name?” I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. Please… please let it be her.
“Dalia Reyes, sir.”
My lips twitched into a grin.
Bingo.
- Writer
