K.C Philips

Chapter Nineteen

Three Months Later

The black liquid boiled more intensely with each passing minute. Even when it reached its boiling point, the guy standing over it looked on as though nothing were there, as though he was staring down a dark abyss, the very abyss he had fallen into three months ago -six months after setting it in motion. If only he knew....

Suddenly, his mind was struck with a hard reality, the very reality he had been fighting hard to keep away, the very one he could not escape.

She should be due any moment from now. But she hasn't called.

K.C took a deep breath as he turned off the hot plate by flicking down the socket switch. He poured out his coffee and made it out of the kitchen towards the living room. He sank on his sofa, reaching for his phone in the process.

No text from her yet.

K.C looked at his screen for a few seconds. Then, his mind was struck with another reality, a reality that made his nostrils more aware of the black coffee, a reality that made him throw his phone across the living room. He groaned. He lifted the cup to his mouth and drained the hot liquid in one long, painful swallow. It burnt his tongue and his throat alright, but not as much as this new reality did.

Jessica.

He saw the news last night. He still didn't believe it. He couldn't recover from the shock of seeing Jessica's wedding date in The City Weblog's post. What was more shocking was the man she was betrothed to.

K.C felt his life was a chess game that began when he saw Fisayo for the first time, seventeen years ago. Now, he was facing a dual checkmate. One, his 'arch-nemesis' was getting married to the woman he loved. Secondly, that arch-nemesis was planning a hostile takeover of Beta Oil Group the next day.

What can I possibly do?

Beta Oil Group lost more than half of its shareholders two months after its Chairman, K.C's father, was interned. This mass withdrawal was followed by the plummeting of the company's shares in the stock exchange market. The news had been making the rounds in various tabloids for months. Beta Oil Group was dying; Nasiru Dagogo was about to delve in. And there was nothing K.C could do. Ikenna, however, didn't even seem fazed by the dilemma. He seemed ready to sell the company to even the lowest of bidders.

His phone rang. He strode lazily across the room and stared at the caller ID through the shattered screen. It was Mr Melitus Nebo. He picked the call.

"K.C," He began, "You need to find your way to the office right now. They're here."

***************************************

The media crashed on K.C in their droves as he pulled up in the parking lot. He did not expect such reception, which was very  naive of him not to. Stepped out of his car in disgust, he walked briskly towards the main building. He succeeded in shutting off the images of the pressmen and women from his eyes. The reverse was the case for their words.

"Mr. K.C Philips! Talk to us!"

"How are you going to do it?"

"Is this the end for Beta Oil Group?"

"Do you have any tricks up your sleeve?"

Stupid presspeople.

In no time, K.C stood before the conference room door. He hesitated, taking in every ounce of oxygen he could salvage.

This is it.

He stretched his trembling hands foward to touch the door knob. The notch unlocked. He opened the door. They were all there, seated: Ikenna, Mr Melitus Nebo, other board members, a mysterious lady and yes, Nasiru Dagogo. As was the practice, silence sunk in as twenty pairs of eyes fell on him. Nasiru looked at K.C disdainfully before standing up. He walked towards K.C, the mysterious lady tagging along.