The Hated Millionaire Heir

A toast

In the Kangs mansion things were cooking, literally, Elizabeth took out her hunger in the kitchen, she baked three blue berry pies, one vanilla wedding cake, five muffin crates, and still she was breaking more eggs to bake another much bigger cake. Sam walked in from the living room, he paused reading his newspaper to take his coffee mug for some more coffee, gently he opened the door walked in and the steam of sugar, salt and eggs flooded his nose that very instant. “You know none of us can finish this food in a month.” He hinted, aware of his wife stress relieving technique the six-by-six mahogany table was populated by sugar constructions and it summarized just how stressful she was. “Why can’t she listen to me?” she turned to her husband, mushing the hand sized dough into a ball she placed it inside the muffin carton and stationed it beside its other seven cartons, “Because you have to accept who she is.” Sam intervened her vigorous dough handling. Risking staining his cotton blue stripped shirt Sam sought to show her wife how real dough is handled, how soft and gentle one should be, “After our son…” he paused, “… had his jealous issues with her, you have always been controlling her.” He stated. Feeling insulted Elizabeth turned to Sam, surprise written all over, her eyes popped, her hands rested on her waist elbows out, “I am not controlling!” she exclaimed, “I just want what’s best for her.” She emphasized. Moving from the dough she turned to her cake, grabbing a kitchen knife, a saucer, and a fork, she gently pierced the bottom layer with the knife and smoothly brought it down to the plate. She then cut another line from her pierce and brought it down, forming a triangle shape she gently placed her fork inside the cake and slid the slice onto her saucer. “Elizabeth you of all people know what’s best for the other but you forget…” Sam paused placing his dough inside the muffin carton, “… she is our daughter so she has your stubbornness and ego. She is the one person we both can’t control.” He clarified rubbing his finger on the carton edges removing the excess dough. “Well then why do her choices always disappoint me.” She rhetorically asked, “Like at the gala she brought me a mechanic. She chose her greasy boyfriend over my expensive suit suitor.” She rebuked. Cutting a piece from her saucer she placed the spongy baked specimen in her mouth, made some random jaw movement before speaking. “My dear wife,” Sam began cutting her of what she wanted to say, “I married you because you want the best for our daughter. But don’t forget she wants her own life and this means we should accept her choices despite how different they occur with ours.” Sam stated.

Brushing the flour from his hands on his shirt, Sam reached for the cake on the saucer, he pinched a section with his thumb and wedding finger, applied some pressure and dismembered a piece drawing it inside his mouth. “But why does she always contradict! We never have the expectations.” Elizabeth pondered loudly, she saw the inhumane occurrence of her husband mutilating her cake and sure he will do it again she cut a piece and poked it with her fork, “She is our daughter let us support her in her decision. Or try to.” Sam encouraged glaring at the stabbed cake. “Especially now that she may have Ricky Mason as her fiancée and soon our in law, we should support her. This engagement will fortify our company for years.” He explained, aware of her husband’s thoughts Elizabeth drove her fork with the cake at the poking end into his open mouth, he munched loudly moaning slightly enjoying the sugary-salty sensation he so much loved. “As her mother and as my wife you will support her right? For both her and my sake.” He asked optimistically, she glared into his eyes and saw that young man, the man she fell in love with as they built the company to its billionaire state, he was still caring, loving, so for his sake she will do it. “I will.” She accepted, Sam gladdened by her wife’s agreement to support their daughter pulled her closer, much taller than her Sam cupped his powdered hands on her cheeks and raised her head. As their eyes met he placed a kiss on her forehead, Eliz blushed by her husband’s gesture as she breathed in the dusty flour, despite their aging marriage timeline their love was still intact, she felt him pull her head higher as he lowered his, on her toes and his neck bent their lips met at the middle, his floured hands on her cheek and her oily hands on his shirt, “Ding!”, the oven alerted.

He sat there thinking, his black four-legged seat joined by metal scraps was heated up by his intense thoughts, his hands supported his neck his elbows pocking his thighs, deep in thoughts pondering and processing. He figured why his cruel brother stood up for him, it was what he predicted, something was benefitting him from the arrangement, he recalled how the very night after the gala was more shocking than the drama hours ago. After his brothers came to his rescue that night the events of the night began as planned, how every company was acknowledged and the awarding for the best, however he noticed something weird, his brother was locked on the Kangs family and was paying more attention when the speaker began mentioning their achievements. Was it coincidental that his brother renews his dignity and goes further to analyze deeply into the Kangs, something was missing, there was always and exchange route and at the time that route had a big gap in between. Pausing his dilemma for the next day, he hugged Mary bidding her farewell at the end of the gala whispering his love for her into her ear, Mary whispered the same back, clutching his back as she plunged her pointy breasts into his chisel chest. Eventually they parted ways and as they boarded their luxurious Mercedes he waved at their car as they zoomed away. Assured they were gone, Ricky acknowledged his presence was unwanted despite the wealthy business giants surrounding him, taking some steps further from the gala venue he neared a parked car. The driver was in a black heavy raincoat with a snow hat, he was middle aged of brown complexion, pausing his radio listening to roll down his window he turned and asked his client, “Where to Sir?”. “To the Masons.” Ricky muttered, the driver aware of the location turned back and unlocked the back door and whispered, “Get in.”, the gentleman pushed the door handle and boarded the car barging it as he settled. The driver revved up his engine, placed his radio on the passenger seat beside him, switched the gears from parked to drive and off the two, driver and client, disappeared.

“How does it f*el? To be in fancy suits surrounded by gorgeous rich women.” The driver conversed viewing his passenger from the rear mirror, “Honestly this job is better.” Ricky answered irony painted in his words. “Sir I don’t think this is better than your life. All those fancy cars I’m guessing your car is probably punctured and you have to rush home.” The driver presumed, taking a halt at the red light he turned to his radio and toyed with the metal stick poking from the radio, “Can I tell you something honest?” Ricky asked. the driver anxious to learn more on the fancy life nodded, “We all think everyone who steps into galas like those are wealthy people blessed with money beyond compare.” Ricky began, the driver honked at by the driver behind him stepped on the gas at the green light he had forgotten about since he was so in depth with his client. “Honestly all of them are just loathers in expensive clothing. Take that away, they will prefer dying than beg for a copper on the streets.” He mentioned, the driver shocked by the sudden revelation let the advice sink as he drove past the lorry with a drawn baby advertising a company’s dipper production. An hour on the road and the driver had confessed half his life story, how he came to be into this business, how his mother was whored forcefully into prostitution by his father so they could have money to sustain their needs, how she grew tired and committed suicide, how a good Samaritan saw his potential as a shoe polish boy and handed him the keys to his cab to begin the business with thirty years’ experience. “You a football fan?” Ricky asked as he saw the lights of the mansion near, “Yes, the Falcons.” The driver proclaimed, the radio broadcaster a certain Mr. Freddy was narrating the live game of The Falcons versus The Maroons. The gigantic lorry sized gate was the landmark for the Mason mansion, plucking his f*e from his pocket he handed his payment to the driver and alighted closing the door after him. Before the driver drove he whispered to him, “Hope the Flacons win.”, the driver joyous of the company he had with Ricky thanked him and as he reversed his car and eventually turned and drove away he heard the commentator yell in joy, the Falcons were a goal up.

Tony grabbed his tequila and made the first toast, his brother with his gold-colored liquor raised his glass likewise, “To being the best the region has ever known.” He pronounced as the glasses of the two brothers clinked in light collision. Unlike their brother, they had no decency of boarding a cab, instead they called their driver and drove away arriving thirty minutes before Ricky parked outside the gate. Ricky aware his brothers were inside gathered his thoughts; he knew they were about to show him the normal colors he was used to so he had his cup of perseverance beside him. Walking the meters of pavemented bricks he glared at the moon smiling unknowingly, climbing the steps he knew his steps echoed the inside since the door was open, he corked his neck to the left and saw the barn where he called home ever since nanny left, he turned to the door again and he stepped inside his nightmare once again.

“Ricky, my brother, have a seat.” Tony welcomed, Ricky the esteemed guest was in awe, turning his head to scan the house he confirmed whether he was in the same house or not, the picture walls were the same so he was in the right house, now the other question, who were these people? “Here, have a seat.” Michael humbly requested, giving him the comfortable leather sofa to rest from his tiresome day Michael preferred to stand beside him. Ricky still confused decided to play along because he knew deep inside they were fueled in anger; it was just time for them to blow the fuse and chase him out like they did fifteen years ago. “Glad you are home safe.” Tony thanked, leaning forward Tony dragged his seat closer whilst Michael rushed to the kitchen to grab him some juice to drink. Ricky not too comfortable about the welcome answered, “It was good.”, a moment later Michael arrived with a glass filled with juice and placed it on the table between the two seated brothers. “What am I here for?” Ricky eventually asked sick of the fake smiles and demeaning welcome juice, he preferred the monsters they were than the fake angels they pretended to be, they were better being bad than good he was used to that cycle not the other way round. Aware their brother had taken note and made it clear he needed their true versions they dropped the act, Michael suddenly had this serious grim on his face and Tony leaned back on his seat his hands rested on the monster sized arms, it was time they be the normal versions.

“I had a proposal for you brother.” He began, “You are aware that the Kangs company is under our investment and they have improved drastically. As the Masons its our job we maintain how they grow and make sure they do not pose as a threat to us.” He affirmed. Ricky confused by the business term threat whether it was a good thing asked, “What do you mean threat?”, “He means competition.” Michael retorted. “As I was saying we have to maintain our position and you are our key to do that.” He muttered taking a break for the lad to process. Ricky was the unwanted one in every situation, he was the bad omen yet now he was the three-leafed clover that will somehow save them, “How am I the key?”, he let out his inner thoughts. “Marry Mary Kang and we will take care of the rest.” Tony informed, Ricky now aware of the poker game being played and he being the jackpot reached for his juice. Tony having the notion he had agreed and was raising a toast he opted to play along, Michael followed his brothers lead and soon the three had their glasses in the air, “To marriage.” Tony announced.