The Rise Of Nicholas Hensaw

Chapter 2

Nicklaus checked his watch, his heart racing. "I have only twenty minutes to get to the hospital, or they'll discharge my sister without treatment. Please, Frederick, I promise I'll wash your car, but not right now."

Frederick remained unmoved, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You either wash the car right now, or you pay me back the ten dollars I gave that driver."

With no other choice, Nicklaus pulled out his phone and tried calling Stella again, hoping she would finally answer.

"What are you doing? Calling one of your loser friends to cover your ten-dollar debt?" Frederick taunted.

Nicklaus shook his head. "The 'loser' you're referring to is my wife, and her father owns the company you work for."

"Wait—Stella?" Frederick asked, momentarily stunned before bursting into laughter. "You've got to be kidding me. How could Stella Johnson possibly be your wife? You clearly don't know your place."

Nicklaus chose not to respond, knowing it would only waste precious time.

"Why isn't she answering?" Frederick continued with a sly smile. "Shouldn't a wife answer when her husband calls?"

"She must be busy. You should worry about finding someone to love you instead," Nicklaus replied, deciding to send a text message since she wasn't picking up.

"This guy—not only are you poor, but you're delusional," Frederick paused, raising his eyebrows. "So you actually think she loves you? Really? Damn."

Nicklaus kept quiet, then said in a low voice, "I'm sure she's in her office. Let me go up there, and I promise when I come back, I'll have your money."

Frederick studied him for a moment. "Fine. But I'll be waiting right here."

Nicklaus hurried into the building and headed toward Stella's office, but was immediately stopped by the receptionist.

"Excuse me, sir, where are you going?" she asked.

"I have an appointment to see my wife," Nicklaus replied, confused.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Johnson—"

"Mrs. Henshaw," Nicklaus corrected.

"Right... I'm sorry, but she's not in the office at the moment," the secretary said.

Nicklaus frowned. "Where did she go?"

When he received no response, his voice rose with desperation. "Answer me! This is urgent!"

Before the secretary could reply, the private elevator doors opened. Nicklaus quickly turned and saw Stella's father, Mr. Johnson, stepping out.

He rushed over to him. "Sir, please, can I speak with you?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Mr. Johnson asked curtly.

Nicklaus swallowed hard. "Could we speak privately, sir?" He glanced at the man standing beside Mr. Johnson, hoping he would ask his assistant to leave.

"Nicklaus, whatever you have to say, say it in front of my PA. There's nothing to hide," Mr. Johnson declared.

Although uncomfortable, Nicklaus pressed on. "Sir, I need your help—"

"You've said that before. Besides, what do people like you ever need but help?" Mr. Johnson replied with biting sarcasm.

Nicklaus felt the sting of the words but told himself, "I just have to get through this."

After taking a deep breath, he swallowed his pride and began to beg. "Sir, I need to borrow some money. My sister is sick, and the hospital is threatening to discharge her without treatment. Please, sir."

He dropped to his knees, desperation overcoming his dignity.

Mr. Johnson looked him up and down with disgust. "Why should I give you money? And if I loan it to you, how exactly would you pay me back? All you know how to do is beg for money. I wonder what my daughter is still doing with you."

The old man paused and turned to his assistant. "You see how pathetic he is?" Then, addressing his PA, he added, "That lunch you brought me—I didn't finish it. Give him the leftovers."

With that, Mr. Johnson walked away, leaving Nicklaus devastated.

Nicklaus felt his strength drain away as he remained on his knees. His heart pounded frantically, and all he could think about was his sister lying in that hospital bed.

He hadn't gotten a single penny from Mr. Johnson. "What am I going to do now?" he whispered to the floor.

After a moment, he thought desperately, "Who else can I ask for money? I have nothing to sell! What options do I have left?"

Suddenly, the second elevator doors opened. Nicklaus looked up hopefully, thinking it might be Stella, but instead saw Mr. Johnson's assistant approaching.

"Here, my boss said to give you this," the assistant said, tossing a container of leftover food at Nicklaus's feet.

"Try not to choke on the bones," the man said before walking away, leaving Nicklaus alone on the floor.

Nicklaus stared at the food container. He was starving—he hadn't eaten properly in days, and he hadn't heard from his wife in over a week. She no longer answered his calls and had stopped coming home at night.

He gazed at the leftovers for several minutes, then decided he wouldn't sell his dignity for scraps. Summoning what little strength he had left, he started to stand when his phone buzzed with a message notification.

Checking his phone, he saw that Stella had finally responded to his text.