Chapter Twelve

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"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves." Victor Hugo


"We talked about this already! You guys can't just change your mind at the last minute!" Jack raged despite his tiredness. Getting up from his chair, he paced about.

"Sorry, Mister Onel, but we can't sign the contract. There are just too many disagreements within the parties involved," the other voice answered sincerely.

"Sorry isn't going to help. You are aware that we depended on this contract as much as you did. We agreed on this beforehand; what changed now?!"

"I'm sorry." The young man at the other end of the line failed to answer his question. "I was really looking forward to working with Onel & Co, but there's just, as I said, a lot of disagreements, unfortunately."

Jack sighed and ran his hand over his face. "It's okay. I understand. Thank you for your time." He ended the call and fell back into the comfort of his chair. That was the second contract that had been declined since his arrival and it wasn't doing any help to the company. He threw the phone across the messy desk in frustration. Those contracts were meant to boost the company, but he couldn't get hold of them. What was the matter? Didn't they trust him to be as good as his father? He was meant to completely take over the company in two years. With all these declines, it seemed as though his capacity to work as well as his father was being doubted.

Frustrated, he stared down at the screen of his computer. He felt a sudden ache in his head. It was a reminder of his exhaustion. He felt pain in his eyes; a normal human couldn't survive having many sleepless nights like he did. He was aware that soon he would pass out. The many sleepless nights and the constant drinking of coffee to keep him up were finally having an effect on him. He yawned, resting his head between his hands so that his eyes could find some sleep. All this work for what? To keep his father's company up and growing, not even talking about his own. There were many people who couldn't wait to see Onel & Co. fail, and he couldn't let that happen. His father counted on him not to.

He pressed the intercom attached to the left corner of the desk. "Jenny?" he called his secretary, his voice echoing tiredness.

"Y-yes sir?" she replied instantly but hesitantly. She always did.

"I need more coffee," he told her, looking at the empty mugs of coffee he had that day alone. One would have thought he was an addict.

"Okay, sir."

Jack quickly released the button of the intercom to cover the yawn that was escaping his mouth. He then allowed a lazy smile to shape the corner of his lips. With his head resting on the headrest of his chair, he closed his eyes and listened to the distant sound of the late afternoon traffic on the busy street. Cars and buses hooting, people chattering and shouting, trains; all these were just regular music in New York City. Whenever he stood up, a beautiful view of the city's majestic buildings and infrastructures was his to behold through the glass windows. Sometimes, if not always, he stood there, wondering about the effort it must have taken to build the city.

His eyelids tardily flung open at the soft sound of a knock on the door.

"Come in!" he commanded with a voice he knew would make any of his employees tremble.

The door slowly swung open. It took a few seconds after the door had opened, for whoever it was to walk in.

It was her.

She entered with her usual walk of elegance into his office. Her hands tried to balance the mug on the golden saucer, while her hips swayed side to side at each step she took. His brow furrowed at the sight of her. What was she doing here?

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