Chapter 1
600 Words
23:11, Orly private hanger
The cold October air hits Rhys like a slap the moment he steps off the Gulfstream.
The metal stairs humming under his weight as the chill air bites through his black coat.
He pulls the coat tighter around his body not for covering himself against the wind but against the memory that were creeping back like silent shadows slipping through cracks.
He closed his eyes to dismiss the rising memories but it only became worse.
Flashback
He is fourteen again. He's holding his mother's trembling fingers as they stood outside a big mansion. His father's men had forcefully shoved them into a car.
His elder brother, Julian watched as he leans against the door post. He looked like he was watching a boring drama.
"Get that ugly face out of my mansion",he ordered, his voice cold as ice. The door of the car was slammed shut despite his mother's struggles.
His mother floral perfume mixed with burnt inscense lingers on his skin as she sobs. "Je t'amie, mon tresor",she whispers to him, meaning "l love you my treasure".
Years later, she ebbed in a cramped Lyon apartment, drowning in silence and cheap wine until pneumonia claimed her.
He kept her last voicemail of four seconds which were filled with her shaky breath and a small whisper of her encouraging him to do well. He saved it on a small old phone he never charged. A reminder of why he came back.
Tonight, he doesn't need a reminder. He just needs to walk back into the life they threw him out and take everything they love.
He is no longer the scared boy they threw out the mansion like trash. He is now the CEO of R cooperation, a silent majority shareholder of the empire Julian thinks he own. He is the signature on every contract that has made Julian sweat for four years.
The driver opens the rear door of the Bentley. Rhys hesitates for a second. He looks up at the indigo Paris sky as he exhales a soft and tired breath.
He slides into the warm leather and closes his eyes for a moment. He lets himself feel not just the anger but the grief and loneliness which he had sharpened into a weapon.
When he opens his eyes, the softness is gone. "George V",he says to the driver in native french. "And turn the heater on".
The car glides through the glowing heart of Paris. On his phone, he pulls up the live feed from Voss global headquarters.
50th floor, 23:27
Eleanor Voss steps out of the elevator, looking small and tired. Despite her tried looks, she was really beautiful.
She rubs her arms like she is cold even though she was indoor. He pause the video and for a second, he lets himself wonder what her voice sounds like when she doesn't pretend to be happy.
He puts the phone back in his pocket. Tomorrow, he will meet her.
Tomorrow,he start his revenge against Julian.
But if along the way, the revenge starts to be more of her than Julian,well, he will deal with it when the time comes.
"Boss, everything is in order. Your ID, clearance codes and files are all ready for use",the driver reminds him.
"Do you have it here with you?",he asked. The driver passes the papers over to him. Rhys's thumb brushes the logo of Julian's company.
He leans his head back as he watch the Champ-Élysées light smear past the window. He whispers to himself:
"I am back, big bro and I brought hell with me".
- Writer
