2026-02-07 19:03:39Robert woke at six AM sharp. He didn't need an alarm. It was more the function of anticipation than the clock.
He got under the hot spray of the shower. Today was important. Now Loretta would see how it was to be the recipient side.
He wore a charcoal suit, Italian shoes that were gleaming with a mirror finish. The mirror in which he saw his own image reflected was not like the pizza delivery boy two days ago.
Robert checked his phone. No messages from Loretta. Good. That meant she was coming.
He had breakfast brought up to his room. Eggs benedict, fresh orange juice, and coffee. His five years of leftover pizza made him value actual food.
The eggs were perfect. Hollandaise sauce full and fat. Slowly Robert ate his meal, and did it to the last morsel. No rushing. No Sandra screaming at him to hurry up.
At seven-thirty Robert took the Bugatti to Zenco. His engine was purring smoothly and powerfully. People stared as he passed. Some pointed. Others took pictures.
He left his car in the position of the president. His spot now. The one with his name on it.
It was seven forty-five and Robert entered the lobby. The receptionist arose to his feet.
"Good morning, Mr. Jackson." With all sincerity she said.
"Good morning." Robert replied. "Has Miss Lynn arrived?"
"Not yet, sir. Should I send her away when she does?
"No. Make her wait in the lobby. I will come down at eight."
The receptionist nodded and made a note. "Of course, sir."
Robert went up the elevator to the seventeen floor. His office was at the end of the hall. Last night Uncle Phillip had sent him the access code.
He punched in the numbers. The door clicked open.
Robert entered and halted. The office was massive. There were floor to ceiling windows that had a view of the city. Mahogany desk, leather seats, original paintings in the walls.
His father's office. Now his.
Robert was on the chair of the president. It fit perfectly. Like it was made for him. Because it was.
He checked his watch. Seven fifty-five.
His phone buzzed. The receptionist.
"Miss Lynn has arrived, sir."
"Tell her I'll be down shortly." Robert said.
He waited. Let her sweat. He got down from the elevator at five past eight.
Loretta was sitting on one of the couches made of leather, and her leg was trembling. Her hair was pulled back and she wore a professional dress. No designer heels today. Sensible flats.
She noticed him and sprang to her feet.
“I am very sorry I am half an hour late, Robert. Traffic was terrible and…"
"You're late." Robert said flatly. "I said eight AM sharp."
Loretta's face went pale. “Only five minutes, please, it was only five minutes. The traffic"
"Follow me." Robert turned and went to the elevator.
Loretta scrambled behind him with clicking heels. They rode up in silence. She continued to open her mouth to speak, and close it.
The elevator dinged. Seventeenth floor.
She was taken to a conference room by Robert. Not his office. She didn't deserve that honor.
"Sit." He pointed to a chair.
Loretta sat, her hands tightly clasped together. Her knuckles were white.
Robert remained standing. He paced the table in a slow and deliberate way. Making her wait. Making her nervous.
"So, Miss Lynn. Why do you want this position?” He finally said.
Loretta cleared her throat. “I have eight years of experience as a model. I also possess a good experience in brand representation. I have worked with big fashion houses in my portfolio.”
"That's not what I asked." Robert interrupted. “I asked why you are after this job.”
Loretta blinked. “Zenco is a big company and being the face of your brand would boost my career to a higher level.”
"So you're using us." Robert said.
"No! I say it is a win-win situation. You get a popular face, I get exposure"
"We have other options." Robert cut her off again. "Sarah Chen, for example. Better portfolio. More international appeal."
Loretta's jaw clenched. “Sarah Chen is good, but I’ve got something she doesn’t have.”
"What's that?" With crossed arms Robert asked.
"Authenticity. Relatability. I relate with individuals at a personal level.”
Robert laughed. A cold, harsh sound. "Relatability? You? The lady who put someone down at a reunion due to his occupation?”
Loretta's face flushed red. "Robert, please. I apologized for that. I was wrong."
“You are apologising because I have to give you something.” Robert said. "Not because you meant it."
"That's not true!" Loretta rose with a voice that increased. “I sincerely apologize to the way I had treated you.”
"Sit down." Robert's voice was ice.
Loretta sat immediately. Her hands trembled.
Robert went to the window and looked out on the city. Buildings were reflected in the morning sun. Cars moved like ants below.
“You know what I remember most about that night?” Robert asked.
Loretta said nothing.
"The way everyone laughed." Robert continued. "The way you pinched your nose. Like I was garbage. Like I didn't matter."
"I'm sorry." Loretta whispered.
"You're sorry you got caught." Robert turned to face her. “you are sorry the pizza boy became your boss. That's what you're sorry for."
Loretta had tears in her eyes. Real ones this time. “What do you want from me, Robert? I've apologized. I came early. I'm trying."
"Five minutes late isn't early." Robert said.
"Please." Loretta got up, and walked towards him. "I need this job. You don't understand. My professional life is on the crossroads. Unless I get a big one within the near future, I will be out of business. Finished."
"That's not my problem." Robert said coldly.
Loretta caught hold of his arm. "Robert, please. I'm begging you. I'll do anything. Anything you want."
Robert glanced at her on his sleeve. She dropped it at once, and withdrew.
"I'll tell you what I want." Robert said slowly. “I want you to know what it is like to become nothing. To be disrespected like you are of no use.”
"I understand." Loretta said quickly. "I really do."
"No, you don't." Robert passed by her towards the door. "But you will."
He opened it. "This interview is over."
Loretta's face crumbled. "Does that mean I didn't get it?"
"It means I'll let you know." Robert said. "Don't call us. We'll call you."
Loretta headed to the door, her head lowered. She paused, turning back. “I really am sorry. Not because you're my boss. Because I was cruel. And you didn't deserve it."
Robert said nothing. Just held the door open.
Loretta went, and her footsteps reverberated down the hallway. Robert followed her until she went in the elevator.
Robert banged the door and leaned against it. His heart was pounding. That felt good. Really good.
His phone buzzed. Roxanne.
"Are you coming today? We need to talk."
Robert typed back. "I'll be there in an hour."
He sent it, and proceeded to his office. He was sitting at his desk staring at the city below. Time to face his wife.
But first, coffee. Strong, black coffee.
Robert pressed the intercom. "Send someone up with coffee. Black, no sugar."
"Right away, Mr. Jackson." The receptionist replied.
He was interrupted five minutes afterward by the knock of a young man on his door. He introduced a tray of pastries and coffee.
“Will there be anything else, sir? The young man asked.
"No. Thank you." Robert said.
The young man left. Robert took a drink of coffee, and brought his thoughts together.
Roxanne wanted to talk. Fine. He'd talk. But on his terms now.
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CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY
On Sunday evening Robert told Dave.He called instead of waiting for a meeting. He sat home at his office with the door closed and dialed Dave's personal number when it was seven pm.Dave answered on the first ring.“Roxanne is with child,” Robert said.No answer in response.Not the quietness of someone processing. A different kind. The unique silence that follows when someone receives something and let it sit before responding.It took four seconds."Robert," Dave said. His voice was not totally firm."Yes," Robert said.Another silence. Shorter."How far?" Dave said.Robert informed him of the doctor's findings."And Roxanne?" Dave said."Well," Robert said. “Entirely herself, tired and nauseous in the mornings.”Dave was quiet.“Clara will be.” Dave began."About eighteen months.” Robert said.Dave was silent once again.Robert allowed him to remain silent. He sat in the office chair and surveyed the room around him and gave Dave his space.“I'm going to cry,'' Dave said."I know
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-NINE
It was Saturday, and it was like a morning that didn't know it was different from other mornings.At six o'clock, it was time for Robert to get up. Clara wasn't awake yet. He was making coffee, and standing at the kitchen window watching the city below. Gray early light of a December morning.He had slept well.Better sleeping than he had done for weeks. The special clean sleep that is experienced by those who have had something good come along and temporarily take the place of anything else that had been in their way.After dinner he lay beside Roxanne, who was asleep within twenty minutes, and he glanced up at the ceiling for a while, but he did not think about anything he usually did at night. He had considered a little room. A crib next to the existing crib that is already in the penthouse. The sound of two children breathing.He was asleep while he had that thing in his mind.He was standing in front of the window, holding a cup of coffee.Roxanne came into the kitchen door. She
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-EIGHT
When she went through the door Robert was in the kitchen.Clara was sitting in her chair. The focused concentration Robert brought to the cooking process was what he used to make dinner. When she entered, he looked up at her.He read her face.He set aside the object he had in his hands."What happened?" he said.She placed her purse on the chair.She looked at him over the kitchen.Clara sat between them and she looked at her. Clara focused her whole morning on Roxanne.Clara said mummy.Her newest word. The same purposeful timing as that of daddy months ago.Roxanne took a look at Clara.Robert could read something moving down her face.He turned.He was standing in front of her."Roxanne," he said.She looked at him.She told him.She spoke plain and truthfully as she spoke things that were true and too big to arrange.Robert's gaze was fixed on her.He was now still as a stone.She looked at his face.She observed all that passed through her. The processing. The precise order of a
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SEVEN
Roxanne saw it on a Monday morning.When she was at her laptop in front of the kitchen table, she paused and sat back. Robert lifted his head from the island."You all right?" he said."Tired," she said.He looked at her. She had her hand flat on the table in front of her. Not doing anything. Simply, placing it there.He told her to go back to bed.“It's time for me to attend my nine o’clock meeting,” she answered."Move it," he said.She didn't move it. She drank her coffee and then went to her office and returned home at six o'clock. Robert made dinner. She ate half of it."Come back here, you're not feeling well," he said.“Yes I am fine,” she said. "I am just tired."He glanced across the table at her.She gazed at him."I have been tired before," she said.“Not like this," he said.She wasn't about to challenge that.By Wednesday, the fatigue had companion. A particular morning sickness that came at mornings and sat with her all day into the first two hours. She refused to tell R
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX
Phillip discovered the irregularities on Thursday afternoon.He was not looking for them.He was going through the old storage box. Not for intelligence use. As part of the disclosure documentary process, the lawyers had requested that he examine what was in the box. All the items in the box had to be catalogued and evaluated for significance in the continuing events.He was carefully going through the box. Documents Identifying Financials from the original case. Letters before Robert's banishment from the family. Records from the early Zenco years.He discovered the folder in the bottom.It was a folder that he had compiled in the initial investigation of Robert's promotion. The time leading up to the period of Maxime's imprisonment. Historical records. Financial documents related to the early stages of the Castellano coalition.He opened it because he had to catalogue it.He read through it for cataloguing purposes.He left it at page seven.A business transaction log of a corporate
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE
It was a Wednesday, which was the first time in three months that Leonard Hayes has made an external contact.Not the normal paths. Not by his lawyer, nor by the federal communications system that was supervised as part of his custody. The mechanism was discovered four days after its use by Chen's team.A message. Passed through a legitimate legal correspondence channel that had no known connection to Leonard Hayes that was part of a law firm. The firm had previously been used in another property deal years before his arrest, but through a number of intermediaries. The relationship was so weak that it could not be seen in the original case records.It was a Sunday morning when Chen phoned Robert.Robert was sitting at a table with Clara on his lap. Clara was working diligently on a board book. He responded with his free hand, holding Clara with his other.“Leonard reached out to someone out there,” Chen said."Who?" Robert said.“It's a financial operator in Geneva,” Chen said. “It's
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