Adrian
The world outside is painted like a dark canvas. Grey clouds hung low, heavy with droplets of water, that would soon turn into rain.
I gaze down at the people walking on the streets, some laughing, some rushing to hide from the approaching rain. I turn away from the large, floor-to-ceiling window, and walk towards my desk.
The mahogany wood, polished to perfection, sits in the middle of the room. I pull over a drawer, and a picture frame occupies it. Besides it lies an emerald pendant. Attached to a silver chain, the small stone is surrounded with tiny white stones.
I clasp the in my palm, remembering who it belongs to.
A knock on the door makes me slam the drawer shut. The memory fades, replaced by a dull ache in my mind.
A young girl in her twenties walks inside. She's my assistant. Amelia, right. She nervously stands there, she is an excellent assistant but she has this habit of being nervous all the time.
A file tightly clutched in her hands. "Speak," I say, flipping through a file on my desk.
"Sir, it's the sales report for this month."
"Keep it on the desk and leave."
"Sir, actually..." she mumbles. I glance at my Breitling. "You are wasting my time, Amelia."
"Sir, there is a problem with the sales report this month. Our deal with the Swedish company last month generated losses due to the absence of a new marketing plan." She strangles the life out of the file in her hand.
"Who was in charge of it?" I look up at her nervous form. "Sir, Mr. William."
"Fine. Leave." She meticulously places the fine on my desk and quickly walks out.
A few minutes later, William enters the room with a knock. A man in his mid-forties, sloppy and self-centred. I skim through the document Lisa left behind. Slowly turning page after page, William just stands there shifting from foot to foot. I throw the file on my desk and lean back on my chair.
"William. What year-, no, what century is this?"
"Umm, the 21st century?" He says.
"Good. Then would you care to explain to me, why this ridiculous market plan is from the nineteenth century?" He manages to piss me off by sprouting some more useless stuff.
"If you can't do your job properly, you should simply quit," I state in a calm voice. Only people who are not assertive enough, feel the need to raise their voices to assert their point. And I simply don't need to raise my octaves to assert authority.
"Sir, it is not my fault. They rejected-"
"The project plan that you asked one of your subordinates to do, at the last minute and then took credit for it?" His face pales at my revelation. I know every detail of what happens in my city, let alone in my office.
"If it's not your fault, is it my fault then?" I rest my elbows on my desk.
"Quit. If you don't know how to work anymore." I stand up and dial a number on my phone, pressing the phone to my ear.
William leaves quickly, mumbling a small apology.
Some people sure know how to test my patience, first thing in the morning. A flashback of a certain someone comes to my mind. White ribbons, blue. And that attitude.
"It's nine in the morning!" A grumpy voice speaks from the other end of the call.
"You better be here in the next hour or I will permanently remove you from my house."
"Why so sweet, brother? I sent the file to you already." Laugh. "It's about her, isn't it?" More laughing, "Yeah, yeah, yeah! I remember. She left you on the streets last night, right? Oh! My poor brother, are you going through your first heartbreak? Tsk, tsk. Happens. If you need a shoulder to cry on, find Andrei. I am busy."
"Aaron. Pack your bags." I exhale. This brat, I let him live in my house, even though he has his own penthouse. Why? He's going through a rough patch with his ex. And I am sure, It's Andrei who said that to him.
For some weird reason, he and my brother like to gossip about my personal life. I would trust that bastard with my life, secrets even, but he has a habit of gossiping like some billionaire's wife, especially when that involves me and a certain warm eyed beauty.
"Aw, It's true then. I almost didn't believe Andrei." Shuffling noises come from the background, "Hey, I gotta go. I will see you in an hour. No, make it tomorrow. Thank You." His voice sounded serious. A beeping sound echoes in the back. I sigh.
I disconnect the call. My brother sometimes does some questionable things, but I don't interfere with his matters until necessary, which isn't often. I know he won't get into trouble. After all, he's my brother.
"Come in," I reply to the knock on my door. Amelia walks in, hands tightly clasped in front of her.
"Sir Mr.-"
"Thank you, Amelia. I can take it from here." A poised and nonchalant Kian, in his classic black-tie outfit, saunters into the room. A thick file in his hand. A nervous Amelia throws a quick nod and leaves, closing the door behind her.
"Kian. You are back sooner than I anticipated from your business trip." I smirk, knowing too well it rubs him in the wrong way.
"I am sure if you would have informed me beforehand, that we were here to converse about personal matters over tea, I would have dressed casually." He walks over to the couch and plops down, throwing the file over the coffee table.
I lean back on my chair. "Interesting choice of words, you sound like a Bridgeton character." I mock him, to which he just..well doesn't react in typical Kian Ford manner.
"I believe you have something for me." I changed the subject.
"Compilation of every piece of information I could dig up." He pulls out his phone, and a message pops up on my phone. I raise an eyebrow. "Plus, some bonus." He gets up and walks over to the door. "I will be on my way, Reed. Don't do something reckless."
I chuckle, "I have absolute control over my actions, Ford. And,you need that advice more than me. Afterall, charity begins at home." With the things he's doing these days, he needs this advice.
"I would love to discuss philosophy over coffee some other time." He says with a straight face and walks out.
I walk over to the coffee table and pick up the file. A thick black binder, with dozens of pages inside.
I have known Kian Ford for ten years, and met him at uni. We avoided each other, mostly because he was a straight-faced nerd back then, buried in books and I had a one-track mind about reaching my goal.
Our mutual need to reach the top made us acquaintances. We bonded over our regular chess matches. Not to brag, but I am an excellent chess player, plus it keeps my mind off unnecessary things. He is smart, cunning but honest. He has the capacity to hold to his words. Not many men in this business knows how to mind their own business, but he does.
Now ten years later, we are where we desire to be. Me at the top of 'REED Corp.', my multi-national company chain across Europe and thirteen countries, plus counting. And Him, the founder and owner of 'INSIGHT.' a private company that acquires information, a very valuable currency in our world.
I open the file and read through the data Kian gathered. Pages and pages of information on a certain land in Westwoods. Rosewood Manor.
One thing, he's best in what he does. Now I just need to go pay a visit to stir things up and meet a certain someone.
A while later.
I step out of the car in front of an old, three-story cottage, built in redwood. Trees surrounded the place, and a garden filled with an assortment of different flowers. The huge yard is closed off by a huge metal gate. A board hung from the top pointed roof.
"It looks straight out of a horror movie. People are crazy if they come here to spend their holidays." Andrae's gruff voices his honest opinions. The thing is I agree with him.
I throw a lazy glance at him, "It's rare to hear you using more than two words at a time."then look back at the board above.
'THE ROSEWOOD MANOR'