Wrong son, right heir

The mad coincidence

Benjamin’s grip tightened almost imperceptibly around the file. Francis noticed the reaction, but kept his composure.

“May I ask why?” he asked politely. “Forgive me, sir, I was under the impression this meeting was regarding my employment.”

There wasn’t a trace of accusation in his voice, only a quiet curiosity. Benjamin realized how strange the question must have sounded.

He cleared his throat. “It’s nothing,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” he answered, evenly. “I do know an Ayda.”

A brief silence settled between them. “I just happen to know someone by that name too.” Francis nodded once. “I see.” Neither man spoke. Benjamin studied him for another second, searching for something he couldn’t quite define.

Francis met his gaze without flinching, though questions were beginning to form in his own mind. How does Mr. Marc know Ayda? He didn’t ask. This wasn’t the place.

The interview continued, though Benjamin found it harder than usual to keep his thoughts from drifting. Francis answered each question with quiet confidence. His experience matched the résumé. His ideas were practical, well thought out. The kind of composure Marc Group valued.

Benjamin made a few notes. Then finally closed the folder. With a bossy composure he said. “We are done here, I will have my assistant reach out to you.”

“Of course, sir.” The air between them had changed. Neither of them knew it yet. But Ayda had just become the invisible third person in the room.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Marc.” Benjamin nodded.

The office fell silent after the door clicked shut. Benjamin leaned back in his chair, eyes lingering on the closed door. He wished he didn’t ask that question.

His mind wasn’t on Francis’s qualifications anymore. It was on the name. “Ayda.” He let out a slow breath, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What exactly are you thinking about, Benjamin? You want to disqualify him because of emotions?”

A man had walked into his office looking for a job, not a judgment. Everything in Francis’s interview suggested he deserved the position. Benjamin picked up the approval form. His pen hovered above the page. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, he signed his name.

“There,” he murmured. “No one loses an opportunity because of my feelings.” He set the file aside, but the uneasiness remained. This wasn’t about employment anymore. It was about understanding.

His thoughts drifted to the one person who had known him long enough to tell. Daniel.

He considered calling. Not to ask for advice, just to hear a voice that wasn’t his own. A corner of his mouth lifted briefly. Daniel would probably laugh first. Then tell him he was overthinking everything.

Benjamin reached for his phone. His thumb hovered over Daniel’s contact. “No.” Not yet. Until he knew exactly what this was. There was nothing to tell.

Francis stepped out of Benjamin’s office and walked down the corridor, his expression composed.

He didn’t stop until he reached the lift.

Once inside, he pressed the button for the ground floor. His mind returned to the interview.

Mr. Marc had been professional enough. A little distracted, perhaps, but nothing Francis couldn’t understand. Executives had a lot on their minds.

Still, there had been one strange moment.The question about Ayda. Francis reached for his phone as the lift doors opened.

He found her name and called. She answered on the third ring.

“Hey.” A smile touched his lips.

“Hey. You busy?”

“Not really. What’s up?”

“I just finished my meeting with Mr. Marc.” There was a small pause. “How did it go?”

“Fine. He asked about my previous work, the campaigns I’ve handled, the usual stuff.”

Ayda laughed softly. “So you survived.”

“Barely.” Francis smiled.

He stepped into the ground floor and headed for his car outside. “Actually,” he said, lowering his voice, “he asked me something strange.”

Ayda’s laughter disappeared. “What?”

“He asked if I knew someone named Ayda.”

Francis stopped by the parking lot.

“Hello!?”

“I’m here. Why did he ask that?”

Something in her voice had changed. He frowned slightly.

“I have no idea. You know, I almost thought he was asking because of you.”

Ayda didn’t answer immediately. Francis’s smile faded.

“Do you know him?” Another pause.

Then Ayda said quietly, “no, I don’t know any man by the name Marc” she continued “…well, except one Benjamin Marc. But he is really not a big deal. He is an average man, he can't be Marc from the Marc group”.

Francis’s fingers tightened around his phone.

“Hmmm, I gotta go, we would talk later.I love you baby”. “I love you too”.

Across the city, Susan folded the document and slid it back into her handbag. A sleek black sedan rolled to a stop beside the cafe. She didn’t wait for the driver to come around.

The passenger door opened from the inside. She got in. The man behind the wheel didn’t greet her immediately. His fingers tapped the steering wheel once before his gaze settled on her.

“Did anyone see you?” Susan shook her head.

“No.” Only then did the tension leave his face. “You took a risk coming here.” “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “So, what did Matthew say?” Susan looked out through the windshield, her expression hardening. “He knows something.” The man’s smile disappeared. “How much?” “I don’t know.” “But he’s getting closer.”

Susan rested her head against the seat.

“I’ve lived with him for over twenty years. I know the difference between a husband who’s angry and a man who’s searching for answers.”

“Shhhh” he leaned towards her and kissed her.

“You worry too much…I got this all figured out”.

He kissed her face, his lips moving down her bosom.

“It’s been a week since I last touched you. Come closer Susie…come give me that sugar of yours”

She held his hands and shoved it away slightly.

“Don’t be naughty, we have more pressing matters”

Silence settled over the car. Henry slowly leaned back. His thumb brushed absently over his wedding ring. A ring that had never felt fully his. Susan noticed.

“So, it begins,” he murmured. “I hoped we’d have more time.” She looked out the windshield. “I’ve lived with Matthew long enough to know that look.” “He’s investigating.”

Henry’s jaw tightened. Matthew Marc was many things. But when he decided to uncover the truth, he rarely stopped until he found it. He’d built Marc Group from nothing with that same relentless determination.

Henry’s phone buzzed… a text message. He picked it up and was greatly surprised by the content.

“Guess who just texted?”.

“Mathew?”, “yea, it’s him”.

“What does he want?”

“It reads, ‘my wife seems to have cheated on me, I’d like you to look into it’, ”

Susan looked at Henry. “I like where this is going”. she laughs.

Henry scoffed “He is such a fool”.