2
The city lights cast a soft glow through the tall windows of Maximus Weston's luxurious hotel suite. The room was a study in understated opulence, with dark leather furniture, polished marble floors, and a sleek, contemporary design that spoke to his taste for the finest things. The scent of expensive cologne lingered subtly in the air.
Maximus sat behind a grand desk, deeply engrossed in the tasks on his laptop. His tailored suit was impeccable, and he radiated an air of command and control. The soft hum of the computer and the occasional tap of his keyboard were the only sounds in the room.
the soft glow of the laptop screen illuminating his sharp, focused expression.
His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, tapping out commands and emails with the precision of a maestro orchestrating a grand symphony. His demeanor exuding an air of unyielding authority.
As he worked, a message notification popped up on his screen. Maximus's piercing eyes narrowed as he read the brief text: an urgent update from his estate company, Echelon Estates. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, a sign of his intense focus.
Before he could dive deeper into the message, a soft knock echoed into his suite, as his brows twisting into a slight scrunch. His eyes never leaving his laptop as he read the new updates from his other companies. After sending some orders his other assistance needed, he drew in a breath, resting his back on his chair.
" Come in," his voice dropped with unmatched coldness.
Claire, his ever-efficient assistant, entered, holding a tablet displaying the latest report. She was dressed in a sharp, professional outfit, her demeanor calm but alert.
She had been waiting patiently behind the door, aware of Maximus's tendency to make people wait, adding to the atmosphere of his commanding presence.
"Mr. Weston," Claire began, her voice steady. "I have an update regarding Echelon Estates."
Maximus briefly glanced up from his laptop, his expression unreadable. "Go ahead."
Claire approached the desk and presented the tablet. "We've received a proposal from a major investor interested in a partnership for an international development project. They're offering a substantial amount and favorable terms, but they need a decision within the next 24 hours."
Maximus's gaze was sharp as he absorbed the information. "What's the impact on our current projects?"
Claire accessed the details on the tablet. "The project would increase our revenue by 30% within a year and expand our global presence. However, it will require additional resources and may affect our ongoing developments temporarily."
Maximus leaned back slightly, his demeanor cold and contemplative. "What's the investor's background?"
"Impeccable," Claire responded. "They have a strong track record and financial stability. It's a high-risk, high-reward situation."
Maximus studied the report for a moment. "Prepare a full briefing for me by tomorrow morning. I want every detail analyzed."
Claire nodded, though her expression remained neutral. "I will."
"Is there anything else?" Maximus's tone was dismissive, signaling that he was ready to move on.
Claire hesitated slightly but remained standing, " No, sir."
Maximus gave a curt nod. Claire remained at his front desk, waiting for Maximus to dismiss her. He continued to type, his focus unwavering. Only when he was done with his work did he finally look up.
"You're dismissed," Maximus said, his voice carrying a finality that left no room for further conversation.
Claire nodded and exited the room, leaving Maximus alone with his thoughts and the soft, persistent glow of his laptop screen.
Maximus continued typing away on his keyboard, but his mind was drifting in several directions at once. A buzzing sound suddenly arose from his Vertu phone, its screen faced down on the table. Irritation flashed across his deep blue eyes as he barely glanced away from the laptop while flipping the phone over.
The buzzing persisted. He glanced at the caller ID — "Father". An itch tingled at the tip of his nose.
Dropping the phone back onto the desk, its ringing increased in urgency, he continued typing, letting it ring through a couple of times before finally glancing at it.
He picked it up and placed it on speaker, but remained silent, refusing to speak first. His attention was fixated entirely on his laptop.
"Maximus!" His father's voice finally barked out when Maximus still didn't respond.
"What?" Maximus replied, his voice thick with annoyance. His father was the most aggravating man alive, always saying something to make his blood boil.
"Not in the mood for your games, son—"
"—Does it 'look' like I'm playing a game? I asked you a simple question. What?!" Maximus nearly snarled, his voice sharp as his eyes pierced through the phone as if he could see his father standing there.
He heard his father's chuckle, and the sound only made him want to reach through the phone and slap him, if that were possible.
"Meet me at the house. It's about the MM talk," his father rushed urgently, as if time were slipping away from him.
Maximus clenched his jaw. It better be the message he was expecting. Whenever Mr. Quinn mentioned the "MM" talk, it was always something crucial.
Without another word, Maximus hung up.
He slowly finished his last task on his laptop. Finally, he moved with calculated ease, donning his suit jacket and packing away his laptop without a hint of haste. He took his suitcase and hotel key card, shutting the door behind him.
As he made his way to the elevator, his demeanor remained indifferent, reflecting his usual detached composure. When the elevator dinged, signaling it had reached the first floor, he strode out majestically, like a god surveying his creation.
"Good evening, Mr. Weston," the receptionist at his hotel greeted him. As always, she greeted him with a tone of both respect and caution. He walked past her without sparing a glance, well aware that everyone here understood he was not just a guest but the owner of the very building they stood in.
He stepped outside, and the cold wind brushed against his skin.
More people greeted him outside, almost bowing as they passed. It was routine—his presence alone commanded reverence—but he didn't acknowledge them.
He approached his waiting Bentley and slid into the back seat, barely acknowledging the driver. The engine purred to life, and Maximus leaned back, lost in thought as the cityscape sped by.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The car parked smoothly at the driveway of his father's mansion. Maximus glanced up from his phone, taking in the familiar sight through the tinted glass. The driver opened the door, and he stepped out, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
The driver handed him his suitcase, finally earning a brief glance from Maximus.
"I won't be needing it," Maximus said, his voice as cold as the frigid air.
"Understood, sir," the driver replied, withdrawing with a small smile.
Maximus walked gracefully into the mansion as the door opened. He took a quick glance around; the house had changed since the last time he saw it. Without wasting any more time, he hurried to the elevator that led to his father's office.
Just as he was about to press the elevator button, he heard a loud screech.
"Bro!" The voice was unmistakable—it was Kathryn, his half-sister. She hurried into the elevator with him just as he pressed the button, and the doors slid shut.
"Wow, Max, it's been a long time. You haven't shown up here in forever. It looks like you've got another serious business meeting, huh?" She chuckled, looking up at Maximus, who stood with his hands in his pockets, his attention fixed on the elevator doors.
When he didn't respond, she tried to break the silence.
"So… how's work been?" Kathryn pushed further, trying to get his attention.
The elevator dinged, and as the doors opened, Maximus simply said, "Fine," and walked out, leaving her behind.
Kathryn's lips pressed into a thin line. She still couldn't believe he wasn't ready to talk to her, even after what had happened nine years ago. Her heart sank. What hadn't she done to apologize?
Maximus opened the door to his father's office without knocking, sitting down with his back against the chair as if he owned the place.
"You've lost your manners, haven't you, Maximus?" Mr. Quinn said, narrowing his eyes and glaring at his son.
"Get straight to the point," Maximus interrupted, sitting up straight. "You mentioned the MM talk. What about it?" He asked, grabbing his father's tablet from the table and scanning it for any information.
"There's nothing to talk about," Mr. Quinn said with a casual shrug. Maximus looked at him, his face impassive, but his eyes held a hint of confusion.
"I called you here about Quinn Enterprises. You could help."
"That's your business, Mr. Quinn," Maximus clarified, his tone calm but laced with barely contained anger. "You said MM business, and if that's not what we're talking about, suit yourself." He tossed the tablet aside dismissively.
"It was the only way I could get your attention. You're in love with business," Mr. Quinn said with a smirk.
Maximus rolled his eyes. Everyone he knew said that—how he was married to his business, how he loved it more than people.
"I'll be taking my leave now," he said, standing up.
"I need you to arrange a gala," Mr. Quinn stated, drawing his son's attention back.
"Gala?" The word slipped out as Maximus turned to face his father.
"Yes. If it's organized by you, important people will attend. That's why I have you as my son—to help our company."
"Our company?" Maximus chuckled before his face returned to its usual impassive expression. "When it comes to business, suddenly it's our company? You're playing games, Mr. Quinn, and as I've said before, I'm not playing games. I don't have time for that. What's your angle?"
"I'm your father. Address me as such—"
"—Whatever," Maximus cut him off.
"You know what, Maximus, it will be a celebration for the acquisition. If we pull this off, our new partnership with the Markov Corporation will ensure we dominate the tech sector. Your share will be worth it," Mr. Quinn explained.
Maximus slid his hands into his pockets. He had all the money he needed; he had no interest in taking a share of the gala's profits.
"This will be the last time I'll clean up your mess, Mr. Quinn. And let me make this clear: after this gala, don't ever disturb my life again like a parasite. As for any money that comes from it... it's yours. But know this—it's my gala, my rules!" Maximus declared, his voice firm and commanding, making it clear that his decision was final.
Mr. Quinn smirked as he watched his son leave without a second glance. He didn't mind. It would still benefit his company.
He leaned back in his chair and let out a chuckle.
"I'll be ready to play your game, Maximus"
°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.
The study was dimly lit, the heavy wooden furniture casting long shadows across the room. Richard McAteer sat comfortably behind his desk, while his brother, Mr. McAteer, paced restlessly, clearly agitated. The air was thick with unspoken tension.
Mr. McAteer pausing his pacing, his voice sharp with urgency.
"Richard, I need you to finalize this marriage between Summers and Kelvin. What's in it for me? Why should I agree to your terms?"
Richard leaned back in his chair, his expression a mixture of amusement and calculation. He knew he had the upper hand and was ready to leverage it.
"I see you're not one for idle promises. If you want this marriage to go through without further complications, I'm prepared to offer something quite substantial. I can arrange for you to be the lead investor in a high-profile development project. It's an exclusive opportunity with guaranteed returns."
Mr. McAteer's eyes narrowed, his interest piqued despite his frustration. He stopped pacing and focused intently on his brother.
"A development project? How much are we talking about? And what's the guarantee?"
Richard slid a folder across the desk, filled with detailed plans and projections. He met his brother's gaze with a steady, confident look.
"This project is set to revolutionize the local real estate market. The returns will be substantial—far beyond anything you've seen in recent ventures. The numbers are solid, and I've already secured preliminary agreements from key investors."
Mr. McAteer glanced at the folder, then back at Richard, weighing the offer carefully. The prospect of a lucrative investment was tempting, especially given the pressure he was under.
"And what's the catch? What do you want in return?"
Richard's smile widened slightly, knowing he had his brother in a difficult position.
"I want a guarantee that Kelvin and Summers will be married by the end of the month. No more delays, no more excuses. If you agree to this, the investment is yours, and you'll have my full support in seeing it through."
Mr. McAteer's face tightened, but he knew he had little choice. The investment was too valuable to pass up, and the pressure to finalize the marriage was mounting.
"Alright, Richard. We have a deal. I'll ensure that Summers and Kelvin are married as you've requested."
Richard nodded, satisfied with the agreement. He extended his hand, and Mr. McAteer shook it, sealing the arrangement. The deal was struck, and with it, the fate of Summers' marriage and the future of Mr. McAteer's business were irrevocably linked.
"Pleasure doing business with you, John. I'll be expecting to see the results as promised."
As Mr. McAteer left the study, he knew that while he had secured a significant business opportunity, the terms of the deal would bring their own set of challenges. The marriage between Summers and Kelvin was now a foregone conclusion, set in motion by the high stakes of their mutual interests.
____°°★°°____°°★°°____
Summers settled into the cozy booth of their favorite café, feeling the comforting warmth of the place, but the face mask she wore was really discomforting. Marley, Jill, and Sam were already there, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern as they waited for her to explain.
Marley took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving Summers. "You know, I still can't believe Jackson acted like that," she said, shaking her head. "He's such a jerk."
Jill, ever the blunt one, leaned in with a knowing look. "See? I told you he was no good. I knew he'd turn out to be a complete ass."
Summers rolled her eyes at jill's great 'detective' work, but the mask she wore was becoming an uncomfortable barrier. Jill's eyes were on her mask, and she nudged Summers gently. "Come on, Summers, you're making me even more curious. Just take it off already."
" No, I want it on" Summers said through the mask on her face.
" Really girl? Hiding something from us?" Sam pushed in with a boredom look.
" I'm cool with it okay, and I'm not hiding any shit" Summers stood her ground crossing her hands over her chest.
" Oh Fuck it! You're not gonna waste my money by not eating the Bugger you ordered" Marley grimaced
Rolling her eyes, with a sigh " Fine!"
Reluctantly, Summers pulled off the mask, revealing the bruise on her cheek. The room seemed to hush as her friends' eyes widened in shock.
" Fuck!" Sam gaps in shock
Marley's expression shifted to one of deep concern. "Who did this to you?"
Jill's face hardened. "We need to know who did this. No one should ever hurt you."
Summers twisted her lips not wanting to let it out. It was supposed to be a secret.
" C'mon Summers, quit hiding things! who fucking did this?" Sam asked as her eyes narrowed.
Summers looked at their faces, curiosity was boldly written on them, yet anger still had a chance. " Ugh!!" she groan as they sighed.
" Don't tell me it was Jackson" Jill persisted
" No!" Summers said immediately.
" It won't help...." she paused.
Summers took a deep breath, her voice shaky. "It's... it's my father. He's the one"
The café's relaxed ambiance felt heavy now, filled with the weight of her friends' concern.
Marley placed a comforting hand on Summers' shoulder. "I can't believe he did this. What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Summers shook her head slightly " He- He.... He ordered a stupid leather couch and told me to get it. Our deliverer missed the address...." she paused as her friends gazed her, persistent to know more.
" Well, before I went.... I headed to Jackson's house and then after I was coming back home and it started to rain. Then Jackson blew up the message in an instant, immediately I left...." she paused again, gazing at the bugger in front of her.
" I forgot, everything was too much...I- I couldn't bare it. When my dad came home...." Summers trailed off when a tear trickled down. She couldn't continue, her friends face stamped with worry.
" I'm sorry...." Summers said wiping off the tears.
" Don't apologize! Your dad is.... Is a second asshole, pardon me. But that's awful" Marley said, her eyes dropped.
Jill's expression softened with empathy. "You don't deserve this, Summers. We're all here for you, okay?"
Sam nodded, her gaze steady. "You don't have to face this alone. We're with you."
" Thanks" she forced out a smile
Everywhere became a bit awkward, but Marley didn't want the sadness to reign. Immediately her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, now that Jackson's out of the picture, how about we give him a proper send-off? We could get creative with it."
Jill's grin widened. "Definitely. Maybe we should give him a 'Jerk of the Year' award or something."
Sam chuckled, joining in. "And I'll handle the tech side. We could make a viral post to let everyone know exactly what kind of person he is."
The humor began to break the tension, and Summers found herself laughing despite everything. Her friends' laughter and teasing brought a momentary lightness to the heavy atmosphere.
As they finished up their drinks, Jill gave Summers a reassuring hug. "Remember, we've got your back. No matter what happens."
" I gotta go," Jill said with a smile as they waved her.
" Bye girls" She grinned
Summers smile faded " I have to go now, Exa needs me... I guess"
" Alright, Marley and I will finish up" Sam said with a Smile as they hugged her.
Summers left the café feeling lighter, her friends' support and humor helping her face the challenges ahead with renewed strength.