CHAPTER 6

“Hey, look. I have somewhere I need to be urgently,” Alan Greyson told the nurse, writhing out of the bed and stretching his muscles. It was 5:30 am and he remembered that he had to visit Ms. Daniels at her law office. 

He was excited for what the day had in store for him - a chance for him to flip the pages in the story of his life. Maybe this life of poverty and humiliation wasn't something he could cope with after all, he thought.

“Sir, but you still look badly injured. You received quite some dangerous punches in there and, surprisingly, you are still conscious. Not everyone would have survived that but you did. Why don't you stay and get yourself treated?” The nurse uttered, trying to persuade Alan who didn't look like someone in the state to do any active duty.

Alan Greyson moved a few steps toward the nurse, his bruised face looking as persuasive as ever. “Listen, it is more important that I carry out the assignment I have at hand. These are just bruises that would disappear with time.”

The nurse’s brows relaxed and the tension in her face lessened. If that was what he wanted, she wouldn’t be in his way. 

“Alright, but you must take care of your wounds though,” she responded, her resolve softened.

Alan could barely sleep that night at the hospital. He thought of Rose and his ex-in-laws. He thought of all that he suffered in their hands compared to the life of luxury he used to live before the assets of his father’s consortium and his bank accounts got frozen. They didn't deserve him and he was going to show them why.

His hands trembled as he reached for a washcloth by the hospital sink to soothe his bruises. There was a silent groan as he applied antiseptic. It was always going to be obvious that he was badly injured but wanted to make sure that he stopped the bleeding.

He went to a small shop and rented the exact type of suit that Ms. Daniels told him to wear and took the nearby taxi with the little money he borrowed from the nurse.

Alan soon reached Ms. Daniels’ law firm and was directed straight into her office.

“Please have your seat, Mr. Greyson,” Ms. Daniels uttered without looking at him. He took his seat, his eyes pacing back and forth. 

“You are late though,” Ms. Daniels continued, her gaze fixed on her desktop as she was typing hastily.

Alan wondered why he was deemed to be late. He got there at exactly 6:45 am. Was she expecting him to get to her office earlier than that time?

There was a long awkward silence before she finally raised her face toward Alan. “Oops! What’s with your face?” she asked referring to Alan’s wound, her brows furrowed.

“Erm, erm. I got hit by a mob a few nights ago.” Alan responded, hiding the real details of how he truly got his injuries.

“Hmm, let’s hope the jury is not disturbed by all that,” Ms. Daniels uttered. “In any case, I called you here because you are one of the witnesses who would be cross-examined by the opposing counsel.”

Alan’s body was rigid with surprise. He had never been to a courtroom - there was no reason for him to be there, not to talk of being asked to answer a couple of questions as a witness.

Ms. Daniels noticed Alan’s discomfort but shrugged it off. “You had better be smart with the way you answer these questions. I will teach you some of the questions you might be asked and how you are supposed to respond. The opposing counsel is very smart and intimidating. He is also sort of a mind reader.”

A lot of questions were sinking into Alan’s mind. A mind reader? What questions could he possibly be asked that would make him become intimidated? He was barely intimidated by his wicked ex-in-laws so how would a lawyer intimidate him into saying what he doesn't want to say?

Ms. Daniels prepped him for almost an hour with possible questions that he would face before they drove together in her luxurious car - she was quite the rich young lady.

They got to the Court premises in less than 20 minutes and the first face that caught Alan’s attention was his father.

“Gosh, you didn’t tell me that he was going to be here this early,” Alan told Ms. Greyson, displeased at the sight of his father.

“What do you mean? Is he not supposed to be here? Don't get too cocky young man and I don't want to get involved with whatever issue you have with your father. I am only interested in the job I have to do.”

Alan’s breathing slowed at the hearing of Ms. Daniel’s words. Truly, he shouldn't involve her with his problems with his father. 

He slowly got out of Ms. Daniels' car and there was Mr. Greyson, his father, standing up tall with his warm smile and his arms wide open waiting for Alan. 

“Come on, my boy! Come hug your old man,” Alan’s father, Mr. Grayson said.

They had not seen each other in almost 10 years but that was not just what made Alan uncomfortable with Mr. Greyson.

Greyson consortium had their assets seized and all their bank accounts frozen because they were wrongly held liable to have committed terrorist financing and tax evasion offenses.  

Mr. Greyson was trying to negotiate with the police authorities and give them bribes so that they could pull strings for him and ensure that his company assets were not frozen. 

They refused and told him that the matter had gone beyond them and the only way that they could help him was if he could provide a scapegoat and frame the person with claims that he gave such person temporary leadership of his consortium.

Mr. Greyson needed to claim that it was under the fall guy’s regime that the tax evasion scandals and terrorist financing offenses were committed.

Mr. Greyson latched onto the idea but of all the people that he could have framed, he chose his son Alan Greyson as the fall guy.

Alan vowed in his heart never to forgive his father and even though he experienced a life of poverty and hardship with the Billings family, he would rather not reunite with his father.

But there was his father with his arms wide open acting like nothing happened between them almost 10 years ago.

“Come on, boy!” Alan’s father uttered again with his arm still wide open while Alan gritted his teeth in anger. 

Why was Mr Greyson still calling him a boy? Did he think he was still that same naive teenage boy he was 10 years ago? Alan’s head was swelling with thoughts.

What sort of a useless embrace was he offering him? He moved closer and closer to his welcoming arm spread wide open.