CESAR
Leonard Blackwell was an asshole. He was not a good dad. He was never a good husband. He was not a family man, but he knew his business. That is how he made the Blackwell fortune. That's how he made the Blackwell company what it is today.
My father and I had a hate-love relationship. There was a huge part of me that hated him for the things that he had done or rather not done to me during my childhood, for the way he had hurt my mother, and the way he had ignored me, focusing on his work and women, forgetting he had a family at home.
The only thing we were ever good for was PR and to make his name, his CV, sound good—to up his social skills.
If my mom complained, he would always remind my mother that their marriage was a contract marriage and she knew what she was getting into when she married him. It was too bad my mother had hoped that once they were married, his Blackheart would find some love for her.
The best day of my life was when my mother was sick and done with that loveless marriage, that cold marriage, and she decided to finally divorce him. I have never seen my mother so happy as the day she finally divorced my father, and she deserves it.
So, tell me why my father calls me out of the blue and asks me to go work at Blackwell.
Of course, I refused on the get-go. I'm like, 'fuck you and fuck your company. You think it's better than me? You think it's better than us? I want no part in it.'
I hang up the call, but then, five minutes later, he calls me again. I should hang up but I don't.
"What?" I practically yell into the phone.
He tells me, "Blackwell could be yours."
Now, I'm a little intrigued. That son of a bitch deserves to pay for abandoning us. And if it's going to be his business, his treasure—the only thing I know for a fact he cares about more than anything else in the world—then I will take it.
So, still intrigued, I'm quiet. Waiting for him to continue
He asks, "Are you interested?"
"I have to know what you're offering first," I tell him, smirking slyly.
Christmas came too soon this year.
He answers, "I know you have been doing very well in your career, and I know you just started a company, and it's doing really well. So, what am I offering? Your company and mine can merge."
Oh, so this is about merging our companies?
"No, thank you. I'll build my own company. I don't need you. Goodbye."
But then he says quickly, "Wait. I think I should have begun with something else."
I pause, kind of curious.
"What?" I ask.
"I'm going to be retiring in two years."
"Retiring?" I ask, now I am really surprised.
I never thought in a million years that Leonard Blackwell would ever retire. My vision was that he was going to die at his desk at work or on top of a woman or a whore—whichever came first.
But hearing that he was retiring? That was new.
"Yes, I am retiring. And as my only son, my only heir, and as you have already proved that you're capable, I'm going to leave the company in your hands."
I don't want to show him how excited this makes me feel, so I tell him,
"I'll think about it. Send me the details," and then hang up the phone on him.
I hang up the phone, and the woman beside me in bed puts her hand around me. I'm just too excited at the moment to notice.
And then it hits me.
First, he's retiring.
And he's leaving the company to me?
I can't believe it. I never thought I would see the day. I can't help but let out some shouts as I start celebrating.
Lilian stirs, then sits up in bed. She's still coming out of sleep—her eyelids heavy, her body exhausted. I did my work the way it was supposed to be done.
I never do anything halfway.
Just like my father. I hate it.
My mother would always compare me to him.
"Just like your father…"
I'm just good at what I do, and it has nothing to do with him. Back to the present,
"Lilian," I say.
She gets up, sitting on the bed
"Get dressed. We're going out to celebrate."
She gives me a drowsy look. "What are we celebrating?"
"My future."
,~~~
Early the next day, my father sent me the proposal—his plan for how everything would transition, how he envisioned me taking over the company.
The first step? Managing the company under his watch.
I'll be working alongside him for a year, assisting him before I'm allowed to start making decisions. After that, we'll work side by side until he takes a step back in six months, letting me handle everything. When everything is good, when the contracts are signed and sealed, I will officially own half of Blackwell. The other half? That will come to me when he dies. It's all written down, black and white, ink and paper.
I can't wait. But then, I see the fine print.
Stipulations. Rules that have nothing to do with the company.
He expects me to attend at least three family holidays a year. I can choose between them—Christmas, New Year, Thanksgiving, Easter. The list goes on, but I have to pick three and spend them with him.
Then there's another one.
He wants me to have dinner with him once a month. As long as we're in the same city, I have to sit across from him and pretend like he's my father. Hell no.
The man has never been there for me. He was never a dad. And now, all of a sudden, he wants to spend time together? Just because he's handing me his empire, he thinks he can force a bond that was never there?
I can see these conditions for what they really are. I hate it.
I hated reading those stipulations. And as much as I want to say fuck it and walk away out of pride, and because I see the game he is playing. I can't.
I've been through too much to let this company slip away, to let it go to someone else when it was built on my suffering as a child. The abandonment, the lack of attention, the lack of my father's love or his presence.
If playing along gets me to the top, then fine. Let him think this is his way of making things right. I'm taking this company.
I'm going to be the richest man in this city, and I will find a way to make him hurt.
~~~~
Everything goes smoothly—until our first 'family' dinner.
It's the first dinner I have to attend with my father. By this point, I'd been working at the company for two weeks. Nothing much. We only talk about work, business, and managing the company.
I've completely separated my personal self from the version of me that's supposed to see him as a father. To me, he's just a business partner—nothing more. So, I haven't given this whole situation much thought.
But this dinner? This dinner would be different.
I'm about to get off work, wrapping things up in my office, checking everything before I leave. My office door is open—I always leave it open so if anyone needs something, they can come in.
Then, there's a knock.
I look up, surprised. The man standing at the door looks at me, I start wondering whether I've forgotten something we needed to talk about. Then he smiles and steps inside.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks.
"What is this about?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
"It's about dinner tonight."
Okay. In my head, I'm hoping he'll say that it's cancelled and that we don't have to do the whole dinner fiasco.
But then he says,
"I don't want it to feel like an ambush for you to come to dinner unaware."
And now, I'm alert.
"What's this about?" I ask straight away.
He looks at me, calm, unreadable. Then he says,
"I want you to meet someone special."
Okay.....Those words do not sound great.