The Rise of Gabriel Whitewood

33

“I came as soon as you could after you called,” Gabriel said, barging into his father’s office to see Arthur seated with his father and another man.

Gabriel’s face became wrinkled at once, and he stared at Arthur, thinking of the perfect way to rearrange his jaw. He had not forgotten how he was disgraced during their event.

He had just landed from a flight to Texas, and what he needed right now wasn’t to see people like Arthur.

“Why is he here?” He asked in a tone laced with anger, and his father chuckled.

“There is no need to be angry. He is here for a good cause, and if you take a seat, then you’ll get to know why and what help he had to offer,” Mr. Whitewood said, causing Gabriel to draw out a seat opposite Arthur on the large U-shaped table.

Then he turned to face his father.

“I’m all ears,” he said, and his father smiled at him.

“Loosen up, boy, or you’ll get old easily.”

That statement was absurd coming from a man that anger was his go to therapy at every time and day.

Mr. White