HE DESTROYED MY LIFE

“Fabian! You’re gonna be late for work again!” Victor’s deep voice echoed from the hallway as he stood outside his son’s room, tapping his wristwatch impatiently. “Come on, I’m ready. Let’s go together.” No answer came from within. “Knock, knock,” he called, rapping on the door again and harder this time. Still nothing came. Frowning, Victor leaned closer and twisted the handle and the door creaked open. The room was spotless with the bed neatly made, curtains drawn and everything untouched. Not a sign that anyone had slept there last night. “Where the hell could he be this early?” Victor muttered. “He knows I’ve got an important errand for him today.” He sighed, stepping away from the doorway and heading toward the living room for a glass of water but what he saw there made him stop dead in his tracks. For a long second, he couldn’t move. His briefcase slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. There, sprawled across the couch, was his son shirtless, reeking of alcohol and fast asleep beside a woman he’d never seen before. Empty liquor bottles were scattered around them like debris after a storm and the woman wore nothing but a bra and panties. Victor’s stomach turned and anger surged through him like a wave of fire. “Unbelievable,” he whispered and then louder. “Fabian!” The young man stirred and groaned. His head lolled back against the couch cushion as he squinted up at his father. “Dad? What the hell…?” Before he could finish, Victor grabbed the half empty bottle from the floor and flung the contents on him. Cold liquor splashed across Fabian’s face and chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Fabian yelled, rubbing his eyes. “This is so embarrassing!” “Embarrassing?” Victor’s voice thundered. “You want to talk about embarrassment? You bring a woman into my house, get drunk, and sleep with her on my couch like some stray dog on a Monday morning, no less! You should be getting ready for work!” The woman jerked awake, startled and confused. Victor pointed toward the door. “Get up and get out of my house.” Fabian jumped to his feet with his eyes already hard. “She’s not going anywhere. You can’t talk to her like that.” “I’ll talk to her however I damn well please,” Victor shot back. “You’ve become a disgrace. I built everything for you… the company, the future.. and this is how you repay me? God help me, Fabian, you’ll destroy everything I worked for. You're a disgrace to me and your mother!” “Don’t you dare bring Mom into this,” Fabian snapped with his jaw tightening. “She’s dead and nothing you say will bring her back. I’m not my brother, Dad. Stop comparing us. I live my life my own way.” Victor’s face went pale. His lips trembled but his fury kept him steady. “I wish your mother were alive to see the man you’ve become. Maybe she would have stopped this madness before it was too late.” He glared at Fabian then turned for the door. “I’ve got my eyes on you,” he said quietly. “You won’t find this funny next time.” The door slammed behind him. Fabian stood still, breathing hard and then he turned back to the woman, forcing a smile. “Hey, don’t take him seriously,” he said softly. “He’s just… old and bitter. We’ll fix this.” But the woman only stared at him with disgust plain in her eyes. “Fix this? You should be ashamed. You’re the managing director of your father’s company and you act like a spoiled teenager.” “Come on, don’t start,” he sighed, reaching for her hand. She slapped him hard. “Ow! What was that for?” “For being a fool,” she snapped. “I’m leaving.” She grabbed her clothes, dressed quickly and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the picture frame on the wall tilted. Fabian dropped back onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. The hangover kicked in again pounding behind his eyes. “Great,” he muttered. “Just perfect.” *** Fifteen minutes later, Victor’s black Mercedes rolled through the high gates of Royal Gold Mine, his company… a sprawling, glass-fronted headquarters that glimmered in the morning light. Inside, the staff straightened as he walked past with his expression cold and unreadable. “Good morning, sir,” Josh, his personal assistant, greeted him near the elevator. “Rough morning Sir?” Victor didn’t respond. He simply waved him off and headed straight to his office. Josh exchanged a nervous look with a secretary nearby. Everyone knew when Victor came in wearing that expression, it was best not to speak unless spoken to. Minutes later, Victor buzzed the intercom. “Josh. My office. Now.” Josh hurried in. On the desk sat a brown envelope and a leather briefcase. Victor gestured to them. “Inside that envelope is a check for one million dollars. You’ll take it to Ozone Bank and cash it. Use this briefcase to bring the money back. Fabian isn’t available, so I’m trusting you with this. Don’t waste time and don’t give me stories. Understood?” Josh nodded quickly. “Understood, sir.” He picked up the envelope and briefcase. “I’ll be back soon.” “Take my chauffeur,” Victor added. “He knows the route.” Josh left at once with a tight knot of nerves forming in his stomach. Victor’s trust wasn’t something he wanted to lose especially not today. The company’s sleek black sedan pulled up to Ozone Bank fifteen minutes later and Josh stepped out with briefcase in hand, straightening his tie before walking inside. The lobby was bright and busy and as he approached the manager’s office, someone brushed against his shoulder. A janitor, a young woman in a gray uniform, pushing a mop bucket nearly bumped into him. The briefcase slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a loud thump. “Watch where you’re going!” Josh snapped, bending to pick it up. “Are you blind?” “I’m so sorry, sir,” the woman stammered, lowering her gaze. “It was an accident.” “Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “Just… go.” She nodded quickly and hurried off, apologizing as she went. Josh shook his head, grumbling under his breath and stepped into the manager’s office. “Mr. Josh! Welcome,” said Mr. Connard May, the bank manager, rising from his chair with a practiced smile. “Mr. Victor called ahead. Please, have a seat.” Josh sat, still irritated. “You seem upset,” Connard observed. “Rough morning?” “Something like that,” Josh said. “Some clumsy janitor nearly knocked me over. Anyway, I’m here to cash a check from Mr. Victor.” He reached into his jacket pocket and froze. The envelope wasn’t there. His heart skipped. He patted his other pockets but still nothing. He checked his pants, the briefcase and even under the folder on the table but still nothing. “Is something wrong?” Connard asked. Josh’s voice came out hoarse. “The envelope.. it’s gone. The check for a million dollars.. it’s not here.” Connard blinked. “You’re sure you had it when you left?” “Yes!” Josh said with his heart racing. “I had it right here.” He patted his chest pocket again with panic spreading through him. “Oh my God. Victor will kill me.” He sprang from his seat and searched the floor and every inch of his clothing but the envelope was nowhere to be found. And then, for the first time that morning, Josh remembered the janitor… the one who had “accidentally” bumped into him and a cold chill ran through his body…