The elevator opened, and Jacob burst out and strode towards Steve's office as if he were a villain from a slasher horror movie. His breath hung in the air, charged with frustration.
The secretary stood up, making a feeble attempt to halt him. "Mr. Jacob, you cannot..."
Without waiting for her to finish, he barged into Steve's office. "Sir!" Jacob blurted. "I have a complaint," he said, raising a letter in his hand.
Steve took a shot of whiskey down his throat and walked to his chair. “It’s fine, Mrs. William; I’ve got this.”
The secretary took a deep breath, looked to Jacob, then nodded before taking her leave.
“So?”
"Sir, I got a tarmination letter based on a link to the sub-urban real estate deal.”
“And?”
Jacob frowned a little shocked at the question, “Sir, except I wasn’t on the sub-urban real estate deal.”
“So?”
"So, sir, I got fired for something that has no link to me.”
“But you aren’t innocent now, are you?” Steve raised an eyebrow.
"Sir, I do not understand.”
"Oh, you do, Jacob, you do. I know you’ve been on that sub-urban real estate deal.”
“As an internal audit, sir. I never took charge of the finances or anything. I only checked the record after they were done with the whole thing.”
Steve smirked and reached for a file from his drawer. “And you submitted this report, didn’t you?”
“I did.” Jacob nodded in affirmation.
Steve opened and started to flip through the pages. “Do you remember what you said here?” pointing to the documents.
“I wrote a lot of things, sir.”
“Humur me, Jacob. Come on, try.”
Jacob paused, crystalizing his thoughts before speaking. “Sir, the final report carried missing money."
Steve raised an eyebrow and said, “Speak to me like an accountant.”
For Godsake, “There’s a five million dollar fraud.”
Steve laughed, “I knew you could do it.” He stood and sat on his table so he could be closer to Jacob. “Now tell me, what do you think the shareholders will think or the media will think? Come on, even a righteous man like you should know such a thing has to be buried and kept secret.”
“And that’s why I haven’t spoken to anybody about it, sir."
“Jacob, I know you haven’t. But you see, Jacob, we need to make sure Wilson Corps is well protected, so someone has to get fired. I mean, it’s better to have an accountant fired for mismanagement of funds than have the CEO of a fifty-year-old company like ours fired for mismanagement, and boy, we both know Mr. Wilson will not be happy to hear the latter.”
“Sir, but”
“But nothing, Jacob. There are two ways to this: I get fired or you get fired, and I’d choose you every time."
“But sir…”
"I have made a provision for forty thousand dollars to compensate you. But I’d later figure you still owe us for a loan that you haven’t paid up, and then we need to deal with taxes. The list goes on and on, so a $5,000 check will be given to you on your way out.”
“Sir?”
“Mrs. William?” Steve called.
“Steve!”
Mrs. Williams scurried in.
“Escort Mr. Jacob out of my office. .”
“Mr. Jacob?” Mrs. Williams looked to him and said, “I’d not want the security to do this for me instead.”
“Don’t even try to touch me.” He looked to Steve. “ I’d leave myself,” Jacob said, fighting back the tears.
…
Jacob wasn’t allowed anywhere past the ground floor in the lounge. He had to wait for the security team to get his personal belongings so he could leave.
"Hey,” a voice said.
He raised his head to see Madi.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Jacob said, feigning a smile.
“I sent you a message, Jacob,” she said, not smiling back. “We need to talk.”
Madi handed him a document.
“What is this?” Jacob was reluctant to receive it from her.
“We are done, Jacob.”
“You brought this to the office? I thought we discussed it last week. We both promised to work on our marriage.”
“Jacob, there’s nothing to work on. Not anymore. I need to move on. We are different, can’t you see?”
“We weren’t different six years ago, were we?”
“I was young, and I made stupid decisions.”
“I don’t understand.” Jacob took a step closer to her with a frown on his face. “We made a stupid decision."
Madi shut her eyes, like she was trying to choose her words carefully. She swallowed and replied, “I am afraid we were. I only wanted to get over my ex, and yeah, I used you, and I have to make it right.”
“This is not you speaking, Madi."I think we should sit."
“I didn’t come to your office today to sit with Jacob. I came to tell you what I have always wanted to tell you. We are different, always have been, and I never loved you. I only needed a distraction.”
“This is about my finances, isn’t it? I don’t have it all together yet. e
“And it’s a good thing we are having a divorce. You’d get some cash from it—something enough to have a fresh start.”
“You think this is all about money, don’t you?
Madi sighed. “Take it.” She stretched it to him again.
Jacob smirked. “Of course, the daughter of a millionaire cannot be dating a failure, can she?”
Jacob received it, and she started to walk away.
“You know I loved you and believed it every time you told me you loved me too.”
Madi paused, closed her eyes, and then continued to walk away.
“And now I’d forever remember your lies in pain.”
“Mr. Jacob!” Mrs. William called him as she appeared with two security men. “This is an office, not a drama show on your TV. I’d advise you to coordinate yourself and not distract everybody with your shitshow."
She was standing with two security men. One had his personal belongings in a box, and the other just stood by Mrs. Williams like a pole.
“I don’t work for you anymore, do I?” Jacob couldn’t hide the tears, even with the laugh he had on.
She stretched him a check and said, "That's it, five thousand dollars.”
“What’s that supposed to be, a replacement for the past six years of hard work and dedication?”
“Mr. Jacob, it’d be wise if you took the money. We both know you need it.” The old woman said it without a drop of emotion on her face.
Jacob nodded, stood up, collected his personal belongings, looked to her face, and said, “Tell him I said he should keep it."
Jacob left the 60-story Wilson Corp.’s building with a box and tears in his eyes. But what was even heavier than the box were the two documents he had folded into his pocket, the result of the past six years of his life.
“Excuse me”
Jacob ignored the voice and pretended that he hadn’t been spoken to as he began to approach the railway.
“Jacob!” the voice called again, this time with a pat on his shoulder.
Jacob turned and said, “Haven’t you guys done…” he paused.
The face wasn’t from Wilson Corp.
“I am sorry, I thought you were from Wilson Corp. or something”
“Wilson Corps?”
The face appeared familiar, but he could not recall where he had seen her before. She was dressed in a silver coat and with red lipstick, and her skin was white as milk, her eyes glowed out blue, and her voice was soft, even softer than the animal skin coat she had on.
“Yeah, I work there. Well, I used to. Sorry, do I know you?”
"Yeah, you do,” she said, stretching her hands for a handshake. “Christine.”
He nodded slowly as he received the shake. “Jacob”
"I hope you aren’t busy because today is about to be the most amazing day of your life.”
“I hope you like it here,” Jacob asked. "Well, at least you didn’t pick the cementary” Christine laughed.Jacob feigned a laugh, but he couldn’t stop to wonder. He hadn’t met her before; at least he couldn’t recall it. And what did she mean by that? It was the best day of his life. Why is he even sitting with a strange lady in a coffee shop on the same day he got fired and divorced?“I actually have been to this coffee shop a couple of times before, so I’d give you nine out of ten. I’d have given you a ten if you had picked the club," she smiled. Jacob smiled, but it was short lived. He wanted to be nice, but at the same time, he wanted to know what she wanted from him.“Okay, I think I know what you are probably thinking,” Christine said, noticing how much unease he felt. “Who is she? And what does she want?”“I am sorry, but I don’t know you or what you want from me, and it’s been quite a day for me. I just want to go home. So I’d appreciate it if you"“You got fired?” Jacob pau
“Did you give it to him?” Mrs. King asked as Madi walked into the house, her face bare without make-up for the first time in a long time. "Yes, mom, I did,” She barely spoke up, her face buried behind her face cap. “Good, that peasant never deserved you in the first place,” Mrs. King said, settling down on a couch in the King-sized sitting room. Madi didn’t respond but continued to her room. “And where do you think you are going?" Mrs. King asked, her left eyebrow raised. She sighed, looked back to her mom and said, “It’s been a day. I think I need to take some time out.” “But you had a wonderful day, darling, breaking from that fool’s leash over you.” "Mum, that wasn’t even necessary. He was a good..."“Madi! You’d stop that nonsense talk immediately!” Mrs. King interrupted her. Her face was so still the smile that seemed to have had a permanent stay on her face varnished. Madi, stunned as she were, took a step backward from her mom, almost stumbled on her own foot. Mrs. King
Jacob had never been to the office but he sure knew who was sitting on the other side of the office table. Lydia. Her reputation is a big one in the King’s family. She was like their legal cleaning service. Her job, since Mr. King himself was a child, was simply to take care of the dirty jobs legally. She steals a peep at him, the computer screen reflecting on her glasses, “Miss Madi will be there soon,” she said, her voice void of emotions. Technically, she’s still Mrs. “How long do I...” Jacob tried to ask but was cut short by how fast she returned to her screen, typing—only God knows. Jacob checked his time again for the fifth time since he entered the office; it was already an hour past the scheduled time, and Madi wasn’t there yet. “Of course,” Jacob whispered. “She’d be here soon, Mr. Jacob,” Lydia repeated. And in no more than five minutes after the last words they shared, the door opened. “Let’s get started,” Alex said, dressed in his signature navy blue suit, white shi
Jacob fell to his couch. He had never been so grateful to be back to his studio apartment—even if he had a bandage around his chest and another slightly above his eyebrow. He could use a little of liquor if it wasn’t so fucking far off. “You should really change your locks,” Christine said, walking out of the shadows.Jacob jerked and the pain on his chest struck like lightening. He groaned, holding his rib. “For fuck sake!”“Jezz” Christine rushed to him, “What happened to you?” “I am okay…” Jacob raised his hand, stopping her from touching him. “I just need to rest.”“What you need is a doctor”“Close. It was a slight accident.”Accident, She froze, lips quivering and heart beating fast. She could hear the screeching sound of the tires and the blue and red lights. She could hear her name in a distance. It’s her mom. Next thing, flashing lights of the hospital as they pushed her bed. “Christine!” “Christine!” Jacob shouted her name the second time.She snapped out of it like wak
"How do you know this?" Mrs. King asked, her eyes dimming on the phone in her hands. Alex stopped pacing, “I got a mail. An email.”Mrs. King raised her eyebrow, “You got mail about a six million dollar transfer into his account?”"Actually,” Tony swallowed, “his mail was logged into Madi’s laptop and I was with her laptop.”"So she doesn’t know about this yet?" Mrs. King interrupted him. Never the type for too much talk. Alex cleared his throat, then continued to pace, “I am not sure. It depends if she used her mail this morning.”Mrs. King shrugged, "It shouldn’t matter; they are divorced.” “Divorce?” Alex stopped to pace, saying, “This could be disastrous to our plan.” "I don’t see how," Mrs. King said, crossing her legs. "Besides, don’t you have a board meeting to prepare for?"Alex sighed, "Okay,” he said, sitting besides Mrs. King, “Just think of it, they’ve only been divorced for two days.”"...and?""What if we can prove that Jacob was supposed to pay Madi part of the ten m
He entered his office, shut the door, pulled off his suit and threw it on the office couch before sitting. He looked into the mirror opposite the leather couch. His face was beginning to show more wrinkles and his hair was mostly gray yet he would make one of the fittest sixty-five-year-olds in the world. But beyond it, he could see his plan coming to an end. A knock hit his door. He looked at the door and asked who it was. It was Charlie. He opened the door and went back to sitting. “Tell me what all that was,” he said, his naturally baritone voice coming out husky.Charlie pushed his glasses closer to his face. He was already sweaty and shaking. "Sir, my sources said it was the same guy that saved her from the accident ten years ago.” He raised his head to look at Charlie. “How on earth did she find the guy?” “She had had a private detective looking for him for the past two years, sir,” Charlie said, his voice shaky. But that’s the way Charlie has always been around him. “Thi
Madi barged into the room, her hands balled up and her eyes blood red. “Mom…”“Do you know that Christine Prescott is getting married?” Mrs. King asked before Madi could speak. She raised her head from the computer screen and said, “We just got invited.” “Mom...” Madi tried again. “A wedding in the middle of the week, and with an invitation for the one percent of the one percent? Now, the Prescotts, they just upped their game, now doubt.” Mrs. King giggled. “Mom!” Madi shouted. Mrs. King raised her head. Madi was panting. "What, my darling?“I heard about the five million dollars.” Mrs. King was shocked, but she refused to put on her face. She returned to her computer and asked, “And what about it?”“I thought we agreed we were done with Jacob.” Squeezing up her forehead, Mrs. King looked to Madi. “I don’t remember having that conversation. Besides, we are done when we are done.”Madi tried to control her breath. She walked up to the laptop her mother was on and slamming it close
Jacob sat with his hands clenched together in a corner of the giant sitting room. Different artworks, probably from the eighteenth century, hung on the wall: angry-looking paintings and heavily bearded sculptors of philosophers. But of all the paintings and sculptors, there was one that he could not get his eyes off. It hung slightly at a height of roughly three feet. The painted man had a fierce look that was not so different from the rest of them in the room, except this one was not from the eighteenth century. He looked different, except for the windpipe he held in his mouth. And the face looked like... “That is my father,” Christine said. Jacob turned. She was standing by the door frame. “I did not realize you were there.” “He looks scary, doesn’t he?” Christine said as she stretched a document to him before getting seated. “You know,” she continued, “sometimes I think it’s his fault I never found love. I mean, look at his face.” She laughed, then looked at the portrait.
Jacob parked right in front of her house. It felt like yesterday when he and Riley had come to live there. It was the worst moment of his life, and Aunty Jen's too. Jacob had just lost his parents—his father, who was Aunty Jen's brother, and Aunty Jen had just lost her husband too. Losing your brother and your husband in the same month. He was too young to understand the kind of pain his aunt must have faced at that time, but he sure did understand now that he was standing there.“Jacob?” She called, turning to the person who just walked in. “Is that you?”Jacob walked up to her, leaned in front of her on one knee, and held her hands. “Aunty Jen.”“Oh, Jacob,” she removed her hands and held his chin, “have you eaten? You look pale.”She was doing it again. The same thing she did when it was her brother and husband. Jacob shook his head, he wouldn't let her do that to herself. “Aunty Jen, I am fine. I am here because of you.”"Because of me? Well, then you need to eat something first. I
Every time he thought of it, his lips curled into a smile. Everything was now set for the first time in a long time, except for... Mary. His smile faded into a look of concern. 'That bitch,' he mouthed, 'she's the only one who can break this.'A knock hit his door, and before Victor could say anything, it opened.Charlie walked in with a folder in his hands.“Sir, the plans for the rail contract are a go,” Charlie said, dropping the files on the table and standing at attention.Victor smirked. “Isn't it funny how many unnecessary people we have working on this project? Someone's job is just to check for grammar errors, and yet we still have to pay him.” He signaled for Charlie to bring the files. “You have a few people in your department whose job it is just to agree with you.”“I am sorry about that, sir.” Charlie handed over the folder to Victor, unsure of what else to say.Victor received the folder and dropped it beside him. "And what about Jacob?" he asked. That's what mattered m
Victor smirked, seeing that he had gotten her attention. “You never asked, did you?”“You are telling me that Jacob was married to Madison King?” Mrs. Prescott said, hoping he’d say otherwise.“Well, you are no stranger to the Kings,” said Victor.“ I never attended her wedding. Rebecca never made a deal about it. She never invited anybody.”“I wonder why?” Victor flaunted a victory smirk. Mrs. Prescott's friendship with Rebbeca King has always been complicated. Everything about that friendship was just for pictures and gossip on the blogs. Two wives of billionaires pose for the camera as best friends
"What did you say to him?” Christine attacked him while Victor was having a conversation with another guest. Victor smiled at the guest. “Sorry, if you will excuse me?” The guest nodded and walked away. “What did you say to Jacob?” Christine asked, her voice not as loud as the first time. “I don’t understand what you mean.” Victor looked around, as people were already looking towards them. “But if you haven’t noticed, you are ruining your wedding and ultimately the reputation of the Prescotts.” “You are a full-time asshole, aren’t you?” She shook her head. Victor laughed. He took a step forward. “Listen, Christine. There should be at least sixty people at this wedding. Half of them are investors and, if you must know, nobody cares about gossip more than investors. Funny, I am not even an investor and I already know you argued with Jacob before he left. If I were you, I’d focus on holding on to the little respect this wedding still has left.” “Victor,” Christine poi
“You leave,” Victor said. Jacob shook his head with his eyebrows lowered. “What do you mean by leave?”Victor pressed his lips down. “hmm.” He took a step closer to Jacob. “I’d double whatever she has given you,” Victor said. “I’d give you twenty million dollars if you leave now.” Jacob dropped his head. Money…“What do you say, huh?” Victor shook his hands in his pocket. “It could be yours right now.”Jacob raised his head. “Money,” he said. “It’s always about money, isn’t it?” Victor raised his eyebrow and said, “I’d tell you what? Forget about the twenty million dollars. I’d double that. Forty million dollars. It could be wired into your account immediately.” Jacob dropped his head, lifted it, and leaned towards Victor with his eyebrow raised, “If you will excuse me, I have a wedding to finish.” He was about to walk out when Victor called him again. “Everyone has a price.”Jacob nodded, backing Victor, “Well, meet the first person you will know that doesn’t.” He started to walk
“Madi” Alex tapped her from behind. She slowly turned to face him. Her face has gone pale from what she just saw. It was one thing to hear about it and it was another to see it. “We are leaving,” Mrs. King said, looking at Both Madi and Alex, “And…”“Lady King?” Mrs. Prescott called, walking up to her.Mrs. King turned slowly, pretending to have a smile on her face. “Lady Prescott?”“I’d love for you to meet Christine and her husband.” Mrs. Prescott looked to where the couples were and they were already swamped by another family. She turned to Mrs. King “Well, when they are a little less occupied.” “And we’d love to,” Mrs. King said, “but sadly, we have to be on our way already.” “Oh, so soon?” Mrs. Prescott frowned. “Yeah, something came up,” Mrs. King forced a smile, “But, hey, I promise I’d come visit you one of these days.”“Are you okay, Madison?” Mrs. Prescott asked. Madi smiled. Mrs. Prescott must have caught her still staring at the couple. At Jacob. “Yes,” she said, "Yes
“Mrs. Prescott,” she said as she approached her.Mrs. Prescott, holding a glass of red wine between her fingers, helped close up the gap between them. She also had a smile on her face, one that seemed to have been plastered on it for a while. “Where is your mother?” Mrs. Prescott asked.“I am right here, Lady Prescott,” a voice teased from behind her.Just perfect—a lovely reunion, Madi thought. “I didn’t quite see you there, Lady King,” Mrs. Prescott teased back.The three women soon started to talk about random things from old times. Mostly two women. Madi was more or less just there because she had to; she laughed when she had to and spoke only when she had to. After all, she could not relate honestly to what they were saying. It's always about them talking about knowing each other's kid when the kids were still young, perhaps when the kids grew their first tooth, and when one came to the other's house and something totally not funny—yet they'd laugh- happened. "So, Madi,” the at
“It’s your wedding,” Bob said, “not mine?”“Just answer me, goddamn it!” Jacob shouted. “Red or brown tie?” He went to the mirror and placed each on his neck to see which went the best.“That’s not even red, Jacob; that’s like oxblood or something,” Bob said, biting his hot dog.“Really, but Franklin said it's red.” Jacob said as he turned to him, “Are you serious? The best time to eat is now.”“What?” He said with a huge chunk in his mouth, “I am the best man , not the best woman.” The ketchup from the hotdog dropped on his white shirt. “Aagh, fuck.”Jacob turned back to the mirror and sai
Jacob sat with his hands clenched together in a corner of the giant sitting room. Different artworks, probably from the eighteenth century, hung on the wall: angry-looking paintings and heavily bearded sculptors of philosophers. But of all the paintings and sculptors, there was one that he could not get his eyes off. It hung slightly at a height of roughly three feet. The painted man had a fierce look that was not so different from the rest of them in the room, except this one was not from the eighteenth century. He looked different, except for the windpipe he held in his mouth. And the face looked like... “That is my father,” Christine said. Jacob turned. She was standing by the door frame. “I did not realize you were there.” “He looks scary, doesn’t he?” Christine said as she stretched a document to him before getting seated. “You know,” she continued, “sometimes I think it’s his fault I never found love. I mean, look at his face.” She laughed, then looked at the portrait.