Blessing in Disguise

Chapter 56: Count your Blessings

Maximillian was beyond pissed-frustration, a term usually sufficient, felt inadequate to describe his feelings toward the team he reluctantly called his own. Combining the quarterly reports and delivering them to him seemed, in Maximillian's opinion, a task equivalent to a basic first-semester business school class. The significant sums he was paying this group of supposed professionals appeared to yield disappointingly meager results. A sigh of exasperation escaped Maximillian's lips, signifying his utter discontent with the incompetence surrounding him.

He let out a deep, frustrated sigh. Dealing with the incompetence of his team had pushed him to his limit. He felt the need for a break before he blew a gasket or their heads, and the latter option was becoming increasingly appealing at this point.

Just as he was drowning in the sea of irritation, a distant voice penetrated his thoughts. "Sir!" someone shouted behind him. Maximillian turned to find his assistant, breathless and running to catch up with him, his hurried footsteps echoing the tumult within his mind.

Maximillian couldn't contain his audible groan as he turned to face his breathless assistant. The young man huffed and puffed, clearly fatigued from the sprint. "Sir, we have a meeting with the Lombardi Brothers," the assistant panted, desperation evident in his voice. "They've been asking for a meeting for two weeks now, and I'm sorry, but I cannot postpone it further or they will blow my head. I'm scared shitless of them."

Maximilian couldn't resist a sinister chuckle at his assistant's genuine fear. Groaning, he retrieved his phone, a clear sign that a meeting was the last thing he desired at the moment. Dialing Vince, Maximilian's gruff voice rang through the phone, "Vince, look, if you force me to have a fucking meeting with you right now, I'm going to blow ten of my employees' heads, and those will be on you." Vince, seven years Maximilian's junior at almost 31, replied, eliciting a frustrated expression from Maximilian.

As Vince continued speaking, Maximilian's frustration escalated. He took a deep breath and interrupted, "Vincenzo Rafael Lombardi, do not fuck with me right now. I am one fucking minute from snapping." After a tense moment, Maximilian suggested, "Tell you what, next Tuesday, come meet me in my penthouse in the city at 7. I'll see you there." Vince must have responded in a manner not to Maximilian's liking, evident from the gritting of his teeth. "Yes, you entitled little shit, I will cook Stroganoff for you. Anything else, your highness?" Maximilian added, sarcasm dripping from his voice, accent thicker in anger.

As Vince continued, Maximilian abruptly hung up, turning to his assistant with a sense of accomplishment. "There. Sorted. Is there anything else I can do for you all, the blessed bunch of useless shits that I'm paying for doing nothing." His assistant staggered back a step, head down, as Maximilian, muttering profanities under his breath, marched out in frustration.

He stormed out of the company, the anger still coursing through his veins, and deviated from his usual right turn, heading toward more office blocks in the vicinity. After a few minutes, a semblance of composure returned, though his stomach's protest reminded him of his raging hunger. Maximilian grimaced, realizing he had only consumed his usual morning tea for breakfast.

The thought of returning to his office and instructing his assistant to fetch his typical healthy meal - grilled salmon, sautéed green beans, and Russian salad - seemed intolerable. Today, he craved something different, and the unusual occurrence of walking freely, without anyone trailing him, prompted a rare moment of clarity in Maximilian's life. As he meandered through the streets, he relished the chance to clear his head, yearning for more opportunities to escape the confines of his hectic routine.

Maximilian retrieved his phone and swiftly sent a text to his brother, Victor, inquiring about his lunch. Fully aware that Victor, despite being a grown man, would likely throw a tantrum at such a question, Maximilian remained unapologetic. This exchange was nothing new - a reflection of their long-established dynamic. Despite potential tantrums and verbal jabs, both brothers understood the depth of Maximilian's love for Victor, a sentiment that was reciprocated by the younger sibling.