Brutal Kings...damn..{Ongoing)

1

Samuel stretched his arms and reached again for the glass of wine after rolling his eyes and heaving a loud sigh. He smacked his tongue to the taste of wine he was used to and looked straight ahead to the blonde man who kept on speaking words he wasn't adhering to. Samuel was fed up of hearing how he was expected to finish school and get a proper grade to succeed, Nickel boron, as an heir. He made his left leg dance on his other leg impatiently. Samuel was in a fly shirt and pyjamas. He'd just gotten off the phone from his mother an hour ago who was on a vacation in Las Vegas. She'd repeated the same thing he heard every single time, how the company deserves him to be potentially and educationally ready and fit to take the lead after his ageing father who he knew she'd married because of how much of a wealthy man he was. Mrs Bonnie didn't fail to always remind him how much she loves and appreciates him for coming into her life and the family.

Samuel sighed and adjusted in the cushion when the chubby man wouldn't stop talking. He wondered if the man took a second off to breath as he watched him. Samuel was tired and pissed off already by the flipping of papers and the voice of the man that sounded anxious to him.

Mr Corallo, was someone his parents hired to teach him more about the family business and get him according to his father, sufficiently ready. Since he was going to be dealing with many upmarket in the country where 'Nickel boron is the head, he must have the prospects to lead an enterprise so vast. Samuel didn't want any of that. He wasn't ready to sit on a desk, typing on a computer and answering or arranging conferences. He didn't see himself doing all of that in the next five years. To him it was boring and old-fashioned. He knew that the man seated across him on the padded cushion, talking unstoppably was paid millions every hour to sit and make him learn about the concerns of the business he wasn't interested in. Samuel rolled his eyes when the man mispronounced some words.

"You mean to say, basic, training." Samuel corrected. He looked at the man stop speaking and hurriedly fix his glasses to the paperwork in front of him. Samuel's voice had come too calm but insulting. Mr Carallo cleared his throat and continued.

"Allow me Sir, It wasn't intentional, I promise. The statistics written here is that Nickel boron is worth over trillions making it the no1 grossing in the oil plant market." The fair man stopped to look at him. "You are the heir and it's most important more than anything that you learn about your company." he stated. The man had noticed how uncomfortable and uninterested the boy was and always had been from the first day he started his tutoring. There was no interests or questions to show he was actually paying attention to him. How he wished the young boy knew how important it was for him to learn about his succession. Nickel boron, Mr Corallo knew was an industry worth dying for to become its owner. The company was a dream of every graduates to work in. He recalled his nephew being rejected when he applied to the position of an accountant. It was the only vacancy in the enterprise because the former was promoted to another city. Damson so brilliant, was never called back. But here the young boy was, a business so mighty is to be handed over to him on a platter of gold and he isn't taking it seriously. Mr Corallo thought aloud.
   Samuel adjusted on his seat. His words felt too old to him. Mostly repeated by everyone. Most especially by him.

"No." the man was surprised at the boy's single word as he fixed his gaze at him. "you know what's important than anything, is if you shut your mouth." Samuel said quite demanding. Mr Carallo was quiet. "exactly how much is the old man paying you to do this. I will triple the amount if you promise never to see me again." Samuel said to Mr. Carallo who looked at him surprisedly and shook his head.

"I can't accept what you offer. It is my job to..."

"When last did you have a trim?" Samuel cut into his sentence, staring at the man's blonde head.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"The collar is dirty. Shoes aren't polished. And you speak incoherently." Samuel examined. "Do you have a daughter. Tall, slender with boobs who speaks fluently that I could date maybe for 2 days, because I can't stay much longer than that. Trust me she wouldn't regret spending two days with me." Samuel bit his lips and fell to rest on the armchair. By the written expression on the man's face, he'd succeeded in making him, irritated.