"That's a twenty minute drive. Sh*t!" William Taylor cursed and ran out of the office, uncaring for the image he currently gave. He phoned his secretary, who ought to be somewhere with his car.
"You had better gotten the car here and ready to move before my elevator reaches ground floor." He ordered, panting, and already running out of breath.
The secretary was a little later than the elevator and received an earful from his boss. He managed to make up for it by arriving at the venue of the meeting three minutes early. Just enough time for his boss, Mr. William Taylor, to enter and be escorted to the VVIP room where he would have the meeting with the billionaire.
William practiced his proposal in his head one more time, watching the time closely.
Twenty minutes later, he cleared his throat and sat up. He expected the man to come in any second. Most billionaires liked coming to meetings with lower-level earners twenty minutes late. It was a bad habit that was only good for people like them.
An hour passed In there.
Then one and a half.
Then two hours.
Then two and a half.
William was getting nervous. He unavoidably began to ask himself questions and make all sorts of speculations.
"Why is he not here yet?"
"Did he have an emergency meeting?"
"Where could he be?"
"Perhaps he was delayed by pressing matters."
"Maybe he forgot?"
"Why would he forget? He is known to have really good memory."
It got to a point where his mind would not stop giving excuses for such an immensely late arrival. Sometime later, his thoughts drifted back to self-blame.
"If only I had been more responsible, I would not be having this issues."
"I hate my life."
"Why did my brother have to die? I was enjoying my holiday in the Maldives, dammit!"
"I was too proud."
"I should have listened more to the more knowledgeable ones."
"What was I thinking listening to my wife's advice over those who actually knew a thing about what was going on in the construction world?"
"I knew they were bad business. Why did I choose to sign with them?"
"Dammit! I messed up big time. A massive f-up."
Fortunately for him, before he could wallow too deep in his self-blame to the point of no return, a man in a black coat and a black fedora worn in a way that hid his face under the dim, soft blue lighting, entered the room and sat in front of him.
"Good evening, Mr. William Taylor." The man dressed in typical mysterious man regalia, greeted first.
William looked at the man for a while and looked around at the empty room, his mind calculating the chances that this man who so interestingly covered his face, was here to assassinate him.
The mysterious man chuckled, knowing what was going through the CEO's mind. He explained himself.
"Relax! I am not here for your life. In fact, I am here with a business proposition that will most certainly save your almost bankrupt company."
That got William's full attention. He was interested.
He leaned forward, slightly.
"What is this proposition?"
The man reached into his sleeve. William bounced backwards, further into the chair, fearing for his life.
"Let me start by introducing myself. Call me A and I am here to deliver a message to you, Mr. Taylor. It is about a business deal with my employer who would prefer to remain anonymous." The mysterious man who just introduced himself as Mr A, pulled a piece of paper out of his sleeve. A rolled piece of paper. It was a physical contract.
He unfurled it and placed it in front of William for him to read. He explained as William read it.
"As the contract says, my employer is willing to foot any debt owed by your company, not including your personal debts…"
William unconsciously nodded. Clearing the company's debts was more pressing and more important.
"… in exchange, we want you to give us your daughter, relinquishing all rights over her and her rights over herself in the process…"
"What the f**k?" William did not allow him to finish. He looked up from the paper contract that he had not yet read half of.
"Are you on drugs or something?" He asked. "What gave you the audacity to come here, sit in front of me and ask me to give up my own daughter?"
"Mr William, if you will let me finish…"
"Like hell I will let you finish. What the freaking hell are you insinuating? You think I am that stupid? That is human trafficking and human rights infringement you are expecting me to sign right there. And not only so, but my own daughter's at stake. What does your employer want with my daughter anyway? Is he obsessed with her or something? Is he mad?"
"Mr. Williams…"
"Go tell that mother f**ker, whoever he or she might be, that they better not come near my family, or you will all be sorry." William said, and stood up to walk out.
Mr. A stood in his way and told him.
"You have no idea who you just insulted, Mr. William."
"Do I look like I give a damn?"
"This is the only offer you will ever get to save your company. I hope that you will reconsider when you are calmer and had a good night sleep. Good night Mr. Taylor." Mr. A said and left the VVIP room.
William stood, staring at the door venomously for several minutes after Mr. A left. There was an uncountable number of curses and expletives that just wanted to roll out of his tongue, but they got stuck in his throat. He wanted to say so much at the same time that he ended up unable to say anything for several minutes.
Eventually, his vocal cord loosened up.
"Son of a b**ch!" He cursed.
And with great venom, stomped out of the room, straight through the elevator to the garage, fumed into his car and as his secretary drove at high speed to his home, he phoned all his old security contacts.