Chapter 12: Ferdinand's Work
Alexander's POV
I got home early and due to instructions from my mother and father and I had every work gadget— laptops, computers and whatnot— taken away from me so I could have a proper rest. It was infuriating to say the least. My parents were treating me like I was a highschool kid that misbehaved.
I did misbehave. I forgot to take my medication and had been stressing myself both mentally and physically because of work and there happened to be this lady at my office who provoked me in more ways than I had ever been. I tossed and turned on my bed, still wearing my clothes from the office— which was slightly wet due to the rain and temporary lack of an umbrella.
My door opened revealing the scowling faces of my parents. My mother had her hands folded beneath her bosom, while my father's hands were in his pockets.
"Alexander Verath Norman!" My mom exclaimed, walking over to my bed. Her hands were on her hips— her lips pressed in a thin line. "How many times have I told you to get enough food and rest?"
She sank down beside me, the bed dipping under her weight. She placed her cold fingers gently on my forehead. "Oh baby," she sobbed.
I rolled my eyes, she was being dramatic.
"Your doctor tells me you haven't been to the hospital for checkups for about two months," my father said too calmly. His eyes were angry and worried. "Divine says you've been going to work by 5:30 a.m. everyday and you close around 10:00."
I shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, and?"
"Is it until you're in your grave you'll remember your heart condition?"
"Dad," I drawled, rolling onto my side. "I'm fine."
"Divine told me you had a near death experience. He said you were shaking all over."
"He was exaggerating. I literally ran into the store to meet him!" I whined, a frown etching onto my brows. "Can you all stop fussing over me?"
"Your father and I came to a conclusion since you don't seem to be taking good care of yourself. You don't even allow the maids here to attend yo your needs. Mrs. Rivera says you always tell everyone to leave you alone to work or else they'd get fired."
"I like getting things done on time and without disturbances," I shrugged, sitting up. "What conclusion is that by the way?"
"You move back in with us or —"
"No," I cut her off immediately. "I am a grown man, seizing all my work gadgets is already over the top!"
"Oh well," my father said with a sigh running his hands through his hair. "I think the latter option will suffice."
"We move in with you," my mom said beaming. "It will be like the good old days. I'll be gbe one cooking for you, and then when you get married I'll be closer to my grandchildren and your wife and I will handle the kitchen together. And oh— the joyful noise of the kids in the garden! It will be—"
"Mother," I said sternly. "No such thing will happen."
"We shall see about that," she smirked standing up from my bed. She linked arms with my dad and together they strutted out of the room.
About an hour later, I left my room— quite weary of staring at the ceiling and stood at the corridor. My jaw dropped in horror when I leaned on the bannister and looked down to the ground floor see people moving in boxes and new furniture. Rushing down the stairs, I looked about me. My mother stood afar off arms folded— continually screaming instructions alongside profanities and the people working. My father's right arm was around my mothers shoulder while his eyes did not leave his phone.
"What is all this!" I shouted. No one bothered to stop for even a second. It was like I had not said anything.
"Now darling," my mother said, flashing a victory smile. "Don't get worked up, it's bad for your heart."
"You moving in is bad for my heart," I cried out, dramatically placing my hands on my chest. My mother scoffed and walked away. Hurriedly, I followed after her. "How about your staff? How could you lay them off just like that?"
"The housekeeper has retired, the cook broke his legs and the others are still at the house taking care of it while we are away," she said not looking back at me once. "Some of my staff will also be moving in here."
I heaved a sigh. "How long are you going to be here?"
"Are you that eager to be rid of me?" She stopped walking, turning to give me a glare. "Six months maybe."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding even though I knew six months was going to feel like a decade.
Just then, Divine walked in, greeting my father all too casually. I remembered when his own father was alive— he was my dads secretary and best friend. Now it was his son who played the role of being both our Secretaries, only that he was my best friend and not my father's. He walked over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "How are you feeling?"
I glared at him, flicking his hands off my shoulder. "This is your handwork."
"You could use some parental guidance," he scoffed. "Especially that of your mother."
"You mean I could use some nagging?"
"Essentially, yes," he said with a chuckle. "I looked into the fraud from the account department."
"Oh yeah?" I said, perking up with interest.
"It's deeper than what Miss Dankworth uncovered," he said with a frown. Worry took over his features. "How do you think your father will take the news?"
"He'd sulk for two weeks," I shrugged. "How much are we talking about here."
"Quarter of a billion. It's been going on for more than five years." He played with his fingers looking at my fathers face. "How do we break the news?"
"We break it?" I asked, a ghost of a smile threatening to appear. "How did we not notice? Even if I didn't, you would have."
"Five years ago it started off as about $0.001. It was easy not to notice... And slowly it progressed."
"Is it only the robotics department that suffered from the fraud?"
"I wish it had been, but almost every single department in three of our branches," he paused, gauging my reaction. "All the ones whose accounts are governed by Ferdinand."
"That bastard," I muttered. "He has spent too long so he gained a lot of trust from us."
"He had others backing him up," Divine told me with a shrug. "Because people in accounts are obviously aware. They're just scared to talk."
"Why should they be? Shouldn't they be looking for way to be in favour of the CEO's?"
"Ferdinand is a scary bastard," Divine sighed. "He'll kill for money."
"They'd have companies protection," I pointed out.
"I spent today looking into him and," Divine trailed off, whistling. "Remember Mr. Evans?"
"Yeah, the fanatic who passed away," I muttered dejectedly. "He was dedicated to his religion. People called him Disciple. His children are on our trust fund program right."
"Hmm, it was tragic. Too sudden. A natural death or so it was said," Divine said with a sad smile. "A heart attack."
"Yeah, your point being?"
"The autopsy recorded a heart attack but they couldn't understand why there was the mark of an injection on his wrist. One that must have passed through a vein or something," Divine paused, scratching the back of his head. "He hadn't been to a hospital of anything, no syringe was found anywhere he had been so it was suspicious because he doesn't do drugs. He was even tested for drugs— of course it was negative. His wife wanted to start up a case but she died of a heart attack too.
"What are you saying?" I whispered, a chill running down my spine.
"You know that of oxygen is injected in a persons bloodstream they die of a heart attack but it can't be proved that it was the work of oxygen in the blood stream," he explained. "The injection mark is the only way to know but it was buried. Even his wife had the same mark but it was buried and not taken up as a case. His children were left because they were still very young. Six and four."
"Hmm," I hummed in response. Tapping my foot on the floor.
"That was Ferdinand's work," he said in conclusion.
I gasped in response, although I already knew it was going to be something like that. This news was all go sudden. "So he did it because Mr. Evans was going to expose him?"
"Sounds like it," Divine shrugged.
"Sounds like what?" The voice of my father said directly behind my ear. I jumped in surprise, sending a glance towards Divine whose eyes were wide. "By the way what was Ferdinand's work?" My father interrogated, his hands akimbo as his eyes bore into out souls.
There was no going back now.