The cold air was swept by the young man clad in black that entered the room to his throne. To be precise, he entered his kingdom with towers upon towers of white square papers ready for his mighty hand to be signed by his trusty pen. It was inevitable, as he was the reigning king of a modern-day empire; no queen nor princes and princesses—just a bunch of servants that despised his reign for one reason or another.
As Denzel laid his back on the soft cushion, he suddenly realized the slight change in the room. There were just a few odd bits that he did not remember placing though he might've just been mistaken. He was a busy young man after all.
As he searched through the drawers, he found himself terribly looking for one piece of document he anticipated reading. He thought of him misplacing it somewhere, but assured his mind that he did place it in that specific drawer. Now that he had observed carefully, the collection of dust on the handles was nowhere to be found. The contents of that drawer were left untouched for months; even Shawn's table, which he did not bother to clean for weeks, was suspiciously clean.
Someone must've rummaged through his stuff, he thought, maybe a thief or a spy, but upon closer look, all of his seemingly important documents were present. The envelopes were straight with its contents; it was not taken out by force nor by pressure.
It was mind-boggling to know that only one was missing; the document that so happened to be "Shawn's Information". It must've been a coincidental, he thought. However, due to the lack of trust the past incidents gave him and the sheer number of attempts to get Shawn away from him, one of the two parties must've been involved. It's good that he has contacts to both—unless there was a third party involved. There were just too much people he considered as enemies, but none of them would surely take interest on some information of some random man.
At the spur of the moment, Sharmaine's face suddenly appeared. He wanted to disregard her presence in his life as much as possible, however, now that he had remembered, she seemed particularly familiar, especially her face. It looked the same as Shawn's, but thinking back, he never said that he had family members—plus, Sharmaine had a youthful mother, so the fact that Sharmaine could be Shawn was a conclusion that sounded absurd—even though she did not talk about her previous life. He was lost in his thoughts again; the time was ticking; the world was spinning.
His pen touched each paper he drew. The words that he saw felt like mush, and the space began feeling lonely. He suddenly wished for sandwiches, kind of like the ones Shawn would give him whenever he always felt hungry.
He remembered Sharmaine's offer—to work under him to learn certain and mysterious things. It was a very peculiar offer that was sloppily presented, however, the potential partnership with her mother's company could produce something greater—either Suarez Corporation's downfall or fame.
He wanted to talk to her more about the offers, but he did not have her phone number. And how much web searches he made, there was none but related results to a different input. It was laughable, the power of Shawn Corporation over the media; there was no controversies, which seemed impossible in Denzel's eyes because no business is perfect; no business also has no secrets.