The Heir's Revenge

Escape Route

When Lawrence entered the office for the first time, it was still.

The walls were made of glass, stretching from floor to ceiling, showcasing the magnificent city of Zurich.

The desk was sleek, black and spotless. Behind it stood a single framed portrait, the late CEO, Thomas Lance, stared down at him with quiet authority.

Lawrence stood there for a long moment, taking everything around him in.

So this is the man I’m supposed to be? He thought.

He ran his hand through the polished surface of the desk. His reflection looked very different from how it did in his car last night. It was sharper, colder, carried an authoritative font to it.

A knock sounded at his door, pulling him out of his trance.

“Come in.” He said without looking back.

The door opened softly. A woman in her early thirties walked in. She was tall, elegant, with auburn hair perfectly slicked back. Her aura was calm but also somewhat intimidating.

“Mr. Stiff.” She said smoothly. “I’m Dr. Evelyn Hart. The company’s psychologist.”

“Psychologist?” Lawrence turned, his brow lifting slightly.

“Yes.” She smiled faintly. “ It was part of the late CEO’s policies. All executive members are required to attend scheduled sessions. But with you, I was ordered to make it….well, regular and mandatory”

He gave a quiet, almost amused snort. “Mandatory therapy for a company CEO. That’s new.”

“It is. But it did keep the late Mr Lance stable,” she replied. “This company was his kingdom, and as time went on, it demanded more from him. Not just physically or financially this time, but mentally.”

He glances at the self portrait. “I’m beginning to understand that now.”

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, studying him.

There was something in her gaze, not judgement, but curiosity.

Lawrence caught her gaze. “Is everything alright?” He asks her, feeling uncomfortable.

“Why, I must say Mr stiff,” she said quietly, almost like a whisper, as if the walls hearing about it were an abomination.

“There’s a striking resemblance between you and the late CEO.”

Lawrence blinked then let out a soft, dry laugh.

“Really? Well I do get that a lot, that I look like people. Must be the familiar face things. I didn’t even know him.”

Her smile flattered a little. “No? That’s interesting. He spoke little about his private life but there were always….. rumors, of course.”

“I don’t deal in rumors, Dr Hart, and as a physiologist, you shouldn’t too.”

He said, walking toward the window. “And I most definitely don’t need therapy.”

She clasped her hand gently in front of her. “I see. But you should know that therapy here isn’t optional. The late CEO requested it personally in his succession clause.”

Lawrence had read that in the documents sent to by Kent but he never saw it as anything important.

Lawrence turned to her, his expression unreadable. “I mean he never knew me, so why would he request mandatory therapy for me?”

“That’s precisely what’s strange,” she muttered. “The clause wasn’t just written with a name, it was written with a….prediction.”

“Prediction?”

She nodded. “It said ‘the one who would inherit my crown must first heal from what he’s lost.”

For a second he didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to wrap his head around it.

He turned away. “Well that’s very poetic doctor, but I don’t have time to heal, the world doesn’t wait for men to heal or grow.”

She took a purposeful step forward, her voice more firm than it was when she walked in. “Mr. Stiff, you might not have time, but you’ll need strength. The business world isn’t like any other, it’s not fun and games. This world doesn’t just wound, it devours. You’re stepping into a pit of wolves, and I’m sure you’ve realized that now. And if you’re not careful,” she takes a deep breath and glances towards the self portrait. “They’ll eat you alive.”

He then turned to her, his eyes cold but clear.

“Then it’s a good thing the old me died last night.”

Evelyn blinked.

“Because the one standing here right in front of you…..is already reborn.”

Evelyn’s gave softened. But she didn’t ask any questions.

“Very well then. Mr stiff, I’ll schedule your first session next week, just in case you do change your mind.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly, sitting behind the desk.

She lingered for a moment longer, then nodded politely and left.

When the door clicked shut Lawrence exhaled slowly, almost shaking his head.

Therapy. Healing. He wasn’t here for all that. He was here for revenge.

Hours passed before Kent returned.

He entered the office calmly, holding a folder. “Your introduction is complete, sir. All the junior staff have been informed of your immediate appointment.”

“Good.” Lawrence said, staring out the window.

Kent hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Sir…..you must forgive me for saying this, but your wardrobe—“

“What about it?” Lawrence asked with a raised brow.

“Well, sir,” Kent chose his words carefully, “you look like a man who just fought with a street gang and lost. And while I admire your resilience, our board members do not.”

Lawrence smirked slightly. “You’re saying I don’t look like a CEO?”

“Yet,” Kent replied. “So I’m saying we should fix that.”

A flicker of amusement flashed through Lawrence’s eyes. “Of course, if I am to lead people and show I am capable of it, I must look the part. Please, lead the way.”

————

As they rode through the city of Zurich, with Mr Kent driving this time. Lawrence sat at the back seat, quiet. His gaze unfocused.

Kent finally broke the silence after a while. “If I may ask, sir…. How are you finding all this? I mean it must be quite a lot to process in a single day.”

Lawrence gave a low chuckle. “Processing all this isn’t the problem, believing is. I still half expect to wake up and find out I’m back in my dead best car, stomach growling and drenched in rain water.”

“You’re not.” Kent said firmly. “You’re here, and exactly where you should be. And frankly if you can’t believe in yourself, how will others?”

Lawrence nodded slowly, then after a while he spoke again.

“Kent, do you have…..a good lawyer?”

“Why, we have only the best sir.”

Kent glanced at him through the mirror.

“But what for sir? All the legal procedures have been handled perfectly already.”

“I need a lawyer who can prepare divorce papers for me, and fast.”

He stared out the window.

“Because there are debts I need to pay, not with money but with closure.”

Kent nodded slowly. “Understood. I’ll make some calls.”

Lawrence looked out the window. Some had begun to fall again.

He whispered, only for himself to hear.

“They wanted to use me to pay a debt, now I’ll give them an impossible one to pay instead.”