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 burried 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-size 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 immidiately!” Mrs. King interrupted her. Her face was so still, and the smile that seemed to have had a permanent stay on her face was varnished. Madi, stunned as she was, took a step backward from her mom and almost stumbled on her own foot.
Lydia’s saggy face was so fixed to the screen that the light from it reflected on her glasses, and her fingers were all over the keyboard. She’d steal a peep at Jacob once every few minutes, then go back to the computer. Lydia’s reputation for closing down impossible cases for the King’s wasn’t a stranger to Jacob. She has been working for them since Mr. King himself was a young man, according to what he had heard about her. Even with all of these at the back of his mind, he kept a straight face, one that didn’t portray any of the fears he had. He 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. “Miss Madi will be here anytime soon.” Lydia said as she took another look at him. Her voice wasn’t that of a woman who showed any form of emotion. Technically, she’s still a 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 finally reached his studio apartment with a bandage around his chest and a small one above his eyebrow. He settled down, groaning on his couch. If asked, he wouldn't be able to tell what hurt him the most—the physical pain he endured or the emotional pain of watching his wife leave him for someone like Alex. He could use a little liquor, but it was a little far off, and he wouldn’t get off the chair.“You should really change your locks,” Christine said, walking out of the shadows.“For fuck sake!” He jerked, and the pain struck like an electric shock. He groaned as he held his rib as it curled a little. “Oh my god,” Christine rushed to him. “What happened to you?” she asked.“I am okay…” Jacob stopped her from touching him. “I just need to rest.”“Rest? What happened to you?”“It was an accident.”Christine stopped, her lips quivering a little. Jacob raised his head to look at why she suddenly went quiet. “Are you okay?”“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head a little. “I just hav
"How do you know this?" Mrs. King asked."Well, a mail was sent to Madi this afternoon, and it was about this transaction. His email is still somehow logged into Madi's laptop." Alex explained.Mrs. King stared into the phone screen, trying to understand how Jacob could have such an amount of money in his account. It had to be a mistake; she just needed to find out the mistake. But it was his name, Jacob Reed, that was on the cheque. After a short while of staring into the phone, she returned the phone to Alex. "So she doesn’t know about this yet?" Mrs. King raised her eyebrow and crossed her legs. "Not yet," Alex answered, obviously not sure. "It doesn’t matter; they are divorced, and that’s it," she said, grabbing a cup of whiskey from the couch’s side table. "But it’s only a matter of time before Madi finds out. The mail is still logged into her laptop, and..." "And what if she finds out?" Mrs. King asked. "You know Madi...she...""My daughter is not a goal digger, Alex Gra
He entered his office, shut the door, and pulled off his suit. He threw it on the office couch and sat down beside it. 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 failure. A knock hit his door. He looked at the door and asked who it was. It was Charlie. He opened the door for Charlie and went back to sitting. Charlie locked the door and stood opposite him. “Tell me what all that was,” he said. His naturally baritone voice came out husky.Charlie pushed his glasses closer to his face. He was already sweaty and shakingly. "Sir, my sources said it was the same guy that saved her from the accident ten years back” He raised his head to look at Charlie. “What the fuck is that?” “She had had a private detective looking for him for the past two years, sir,” Charlie said, his voice eve
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 said this before she could finish. She raised her head from the computer screen and said, “Mrs. Prescott sent me an invitation for the wedding party in a week time.” “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 President has uped their game; now doubt.” Mrs. King giggled. “Mom!” Madi exaclaimed. "What, my darling? “I heard about the five million dollars” "Oh, it was nothing. I couldn't watch him go with what belonged to you.” “I thought we agreed we were done with Jacob” “Agree? I didn’t agree with anything. Besides, we are done only when we are done.” “No. You are wrong. It is finished; we are done; divorced for fuck sake; what on earth do you still want from him?” “Come on, stop sounding like a fool. That money is yours, and that mon
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 couldn’t get his eyes off. It hung slightly with the height of roughly three feet. The painted man had a fierce look not so different from the rest of them in the room except this one isn’t from the eighteenth century. He looked different, except for the windpipe he held to his mouth.And the face, it looked like…“That’s my father,” Christine said.Jacob turned, she was standing by the door frame, “Oh…um I didn&rsq