Kai Summers is a Afro-Caribbean born immigrant to the US. Kai is humble and one of the sweetest persons you will ever meet although his living situations aren't ideal - Kai has his mind set on making the best for his future. He is an aspiring doctor...
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"Risk! We've take to risks," I yell at the board. "Storm Industries is a company of innovation, not safety. But if anyone here is uncomfortable with that, you're free to hand in your two weeks notice ."
This board meeting was supposed to end an hour ago. Someone lunatic was threatening my husband, and I'm stuck with this brunch of dunces.
"Mr. Storm, you can't intimidate us into resigning just because we don't agree with you." Mrs. Odita the vice chair of the board, says loudly in her strong Nigerian accent.
"Yes," the others whisper amongst themselves. "His father won't let him start this new venture."
I get up from my seat at their words. "Storm Industries is my company," I tell them. "I am the CEO, not my dad. You people either accept that, or leave."
Silence is the only response that I get from the board members.
"Since none of you are leaving, I'll continue explaining my plans for the company's future," I exhale.
With the end of the board meeting, I hurry out back to my office, the echoes of my shoes on the marbled floor lingers behind me as I run to get my phone to check on Kai. He should be safe with Alan, but when it comes to my husband, I'm the only person I trust with looking out for him. So, I can't understand why I'm so fucking careless to go anywhere without my phone to call, and find out if he's safe.
I'm almost near my office, when my assistant meets me halfway from the door.
"Sir," she says in a hush. "Your phone has been ringing nonstop."
"Thanks," I take my phone from her hands.
There's a missed call in my phone from some number that I don't know, but I ignore it to calling Kai. I ring his phone five different times, but it goes straight to voicemail each time.
"Answer the damn phone," I curse when Alan doesn't answer my calls.
On the seventh ring . . . ninth ring, I squeeze the phone tighter as my calls get cut off without an answer.
A cold prickle climbed the back of my neck, and I rush into the elevator. I ring Kai's number again, and again for every floor that the elevator passes. Panic is clawing at my chest, but I push it aside. I won't let it freeze me.
I walk out of the elevator into an unusually loud office lobby of newspeople pushing microphones and camera in my face. I push through the swarm of reporters, and camera crew, thinking they're just here to get story on factory workers that were suing my family.
