Signed by Fate

The sun scorched effortlessly. Miriam comes out of her house looking all glamorous and polished with her light navy button-down shirt, pencil skirt, low-to-mid heels, and her accessories matching the color of the pencil skirt. She struts down slowly but majestically to her garage, as someone who isn't in a hurry, with each step echoing as her heels click until she reaches the elevator that glides down to her garage. Arriving at the garage level, she walks calmly to her car that is packed in the right corner of the garage. She swiftly reaches for her car door, but she freezes as someone calls her name from behind. She turns immediately, her eyes rounding in surprise, and a crease forms between her brows with thoughts running through her mind. She watches the young man approach her. The young man approaches her. She freezes, her breath caught as she recognizes her cousin. “Hey, you.” I've been trying to reach you, but your line keeps saying unreachable. Miriam muttered it could be a network issue while trying to catch her breath. “Okay then,” he said. I had just arrived in New York, and I thought to myself, “Why not spend some time with my cousin?” Miriam thought to herself, “Spend some time?” She wasn’t the one to accommodate people, especially family members who often brought unnecessary trouble. "Okay,” she said, with a small frown on her face as she turned to open her car door. Jimi said sharply, "Won't you be giving me the keys to your apartment?” "Oh,” Miriam said, as if she had just forgotten he had come to spend some time with her. She handed him the keys, and he turned abruptly, with his suitcases, walking as though he owned the place, heading toward the elevator. Miriam slid into her car and heaved a sigh of relief. She reached for her car keys, turned on the ignition, and started the engine. As she drives smoothly out toward the office, her cellphone rings. Siri, the built-in voice assistant, announces the caller's ID. Realizing it's her P.A., she hurriedly reaches for her phone and picks it up. "Ma'am,” her P.A. said. Miriam responds, “Yes, Kylie. Are the investor funds secured for the meeting? “Yes, ma'am, but there's a problem. Miriam asks, What is the problem? Kylie says the investors are alleging that it is fake, ma. Miriam wonders, her heart racing fast, still trying to process what Kylie said… Fake...?? How is that even possible? Miriam said with a shaky tone. Kylie responds, "I don't know, Ma,” with fear in her voice. "But Mr. Roberts is here with me,” she manages to say. Miriam says, “I'll be there soon.” Just keep the matter internal and do not let it get out to the press. Kylie responds, "Okay, ma'am,” and hangs up. Miriam is still pondering what Kylie just said. "Investment...fake?” with shock on her face. After a few minutes, she arrives at the office. She parks and hurriedly stomps out of the car. Walking as though she was about to meet her dead end. She had just made her way to the upper level of the building where her company is. Entering her company, she hears whispers from her staff, "The investment is fake.” “I just hope it doesn't go out to the media, or else the company will be ruined.” She ignores them and heads straight to the boardroom. On reaching there, she meets Kylie and Mr. Roberts, who seems to have been waiting for her arrival. They both greet her, and everyone is seated. Mr. Davis, who happens to be one of the investors, is sitting calmly, but one could tell that he is furious with the look on his face. He speaks in a harsh tone. Miss Miriam, he calls her name with so much command in his voice. Miss Miriam, a bit shaken, answered, “Yes, Mr. Davis. Still trying to gather her words, I believe there's a mix-up somewhere, and we can resolve this without any external interference. Mr. Davis echoes, "No,” and hits the table. This is fraud, and it should be handled legally. My other partners are highly disappointed. Mr. Roberts, who is the company legal advisor, clears his throat. He speaks softly, trying to calm the tension down. Also knowing the implications of the matter at hand. He says, "Mr. Davis, are there any demands to be met?” So that we can avoid legal charges from your partners. Mr. Davis responds. But still in a harsh tone. “Yes, there are demands.” "Refund or go to jail,” he said with an authoritative voice and a serious look on his face, as though he had wanted to tear everyone apart. He stood up. Looking at them disdainfully. His eyes almost popped out. He stomped out angrily, slamming the door behind him. Miss Miriam, still speechless and in total shock at what just happened, remained mute for minutes, sitting like one who was about to lose everything she had ever worked for. Kylie taps her slowly on her shoulder. “Ma'am?” Miss Miriam responds as though she's soliloquizing, “My company is about to crash. Oh no, this isn't happening.” She regains herself and says, Kylie, this shouldn't get to the media. But Kylie says with her head slightly bowed, it has gotten to the media already. I don't know how. But the press is already outside the building, Ma. Mr. Roberts says, "Miss Miriam, “I must say that this isn't good for the company, and I suggest that the demands be met immediately to avoid further escalation of this matter. Miriam responds as though she's about to burst into tears. I've been trying to reach the firm I invested the money in. But there's no response. Kylie cuts in, “And we do not have such a huge amount of money to refund. We were expecting profits from the in vestment, but it turns out to be fake. Kylie hands her the investment file. She opens it. Her hand froze.