23 — ABUELA ZEYA

Alex’s employees lowered their heads fearfully as he paced in their midst, his face icy with rage, his blood boiling.

“None of you can tell me that Derek’s company or one of his engineers mysteriously had the idea to create the exact same machine I invented. That machine was created as a result of years of my own personal hardwork and research!

Do you all realise the amount of time I put in it? Do you realise how much of my hardwork has gone down the drain?” He roared, startling all two hundred of them.

“I’m giving the culprit twenty four hours and no less to come to my office and confess to his crimes. Maybe then and just then, I might retract all the punishments I have in store for him.”

That said, he walked out to his car, followed by Martins and the rest of his men.

“What are you going to do now, sir?” Martins asked.

Alex rubbed his jaw absent mindedly.

“I don’t know yet. I need a few hours of rest. I’ll definitely think of something by tomorrow. Take me home.”

“Roger that, sir.”