Brutal Kings...damn..{Ongoing)

13

Mr Cornell was seated on the evergreen sofa cushion when Clinton walked into the private sitting room gleaming with chandeliers and the curtains having the colour of fresh snow was left opened revealing the buildings outside glistening with electricities, the very spacious parlour with the nicest interiors, flaunting the realistic and unequaled arts of exorbitant paintings on the walls was situated on the uppermost floor at the easternmost level of the house, the place Mr Cornell visited whenever he wanted some alone time and to read the books on the bookshelves containing journals, mystery novels and paranormal.

Those were his favorite genres. The man would sip wine and continue to be focused on the printed pages for a long time. Mostly, he was in the sitting room that was forever left alone, to work, and invite his business associates for conversations on what to do to hit the next successful button in the business world and shoot the scores of their earnings to multiplications in their time and later, in generations.

Clinton had been greeted by the employees that saw him enter the stately and majestic house, cornering to use the elevator stairs for the living room he'd been to only twice since he lived in the building. His father had added to his text where he would be, awaiting his presence.

Mr Cornell was very upset about the report from the accountant of the money pricing a vast fortune that left their account to another bank account for the acquiring of a boundless land property towards the west, and in between hills, coated with dandelion grasses, having an expanse of seawater, considered to be the most beautiful in landscape, approved by the next in the line of succession of the Cornell's possessions for the sum to move, with no delays.

Mr Cornell knew the money was the type that could feed one thousand people for 10 years or even more. He couldn't believe his ears when the news was brought to him in the morning after weeks said by the professional lady of being unable to reach him. The man had waited until he was certain classes were over before typing into his device to the young boy. His wife also was in shock. 'why does he want to possess such a land at his age,' she spoke with confusion and blinked the wonder of the boy she bore. She'd held her forehead when she learnt of the incredible amount. 'What's wrong if he stays in any of the houses we own.' And she clapped her laps with a shook of her head.

Clinton marched to the couch at the opposite direction of where the man was sitting with his palm rubbing his chin, the same hand went down and flipped over the merchandise journal he was holding, after he was done with reading the articles on the page. Clinton made a small cough when sitting for minutes, wondering if the man with the pair of silver framed lenses resting on his nose and ears was aware of his appearance.

Mr Cornell's eyes went from the book and landed on the young boy's face. Clinton cleared his throat when the stare was becoming more extreme. His fingers touched the left side of his ear, he remained patient to hear the man speak.

The grey haired man exhaled as he dropped the book on the table beside his chair. He began by swallowing the urge not to act on impulse, definitely the amount was to an unreasonable cost, he knew the company could replace it three times over in a month but the man saw the wrong he must correct especially since the boy was his inheritor. "why sign off billions from the account without anyone's knowledge?" he threw at his son who was sighing, Mr Cornell wouldn't have been in the temper he was if the figures were rounding up in millions, he would've asked him of course since he still gives his allowance, but it would've been over the phone.

"Mrs Hillary, phoned me this morning to tell me about the withdrawal. You are the next in-charge after you get your degree is this how you are going to run everything?" he was quite demanding.

Clinton blinked his eyes, "I'm sorry, okay." He wasn't at all apologetic, he adjusted on the chair, "I want a penthouse for myself constructed on an unsurpassed ground and that's why I bought it, because I can. What's the money for if it's not to spend it?" He was calm as he gestured with his hands, making his wristwatch dangle. Mr Cornell was astonished by the statement from his son. He scoffed in disbelief, "what's wrong with the one in the parkland?"