For Love of Evil - [Roman Godfrey/Hemlock Grove]

-42-

.::One Year Later::.

"As you can see here, our profits have been declining at an excessive rate- we need to make strict budget cuts, if we want to thrive within the next month." The man spoke, standing in front of his neatly thought out presentation.

Roman's eyes narrowed at the man; wondering how many hours it took him to create the PowerPoint. It inevitably did nothing. Hours wasted at trying to appear professional, to be respected amongst his colleagues. Roman's eyes shifted to the paperwork in front of him - useless papers with percentages and drawn out graphs and charts. It was exhausting to seem remotely interested.

"What made you think we needed an in depth analysis on this?" Roman spat. His dark blonde hair was sleeked back - professional and suave. He dressed for the occasion; wearing a perfectly pressed suit.

Roman was amazed by the stupidity of the meeting - the Godfrey Industries was going under, that much was for certain. At the rate the company was going, they were bound to be bankrupt within the next five years. It didn't take a genius to come to that conclusion - nor did it take a meeting; or a smug bastard with a lavish PowerPoint presentation.

"I beg your pardon?" The man standing at the front of the room spoke nervously.

"We don't need all this fucking shit. I mean, why do you think we need a PowerPoint presentation on the company tanking?... It's obvious!" Roman stood from his swivel chair; the nervous staff sitting around the long table, shifting their gaze apprehensively at their "boss."

"Roman." Johann spoke in an authoritative voice; his expression stern and serious.

"No. We've got all this money- my money, going to all kinds of shit. We've got this-" Roman lifted a page from the small stack on the table, skimming over it quickly. "Oneirology Project One, what the fuck is that?" Roman looked to Johann, knowing damn well he was one of the only few who knew anything of it.

Roman's brows raised, waiting for Johann to respond. "It's for research. It involves the subconscious. It would take a Ph.D in psychology for you to understand, Mr. Godfrey. Just know that it is important and that it does not need your seal of approval to be continued." Johann spoke through his teeth, his gaze filled with annoyance as he stared across the table at Roman.

Roman smiled with his eyes; his anger on the verge of boiling over. "What about..." Roman pursed his lips, looking over the paper once more. His eyes stopped on a random account, seeing that it had transferred nearly a quarter of a million dollars in the last year. "Miscellaneous? That's pretty vague - what the fuck is it?"

Johann forced a smile. "Exactly as it says, miscellaneous."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Various types, from different sources-"

"I don't need a fucking definition, I need to know what my money is being used for. I want to cease all funding. I don't give a fuck what it is- I withhold all further spending." Roman tossed the paper onto the table.

Everyone sitting around the table stole glances at one another timidly. No one spoke to Johann Pryce that way, not even the company's co-owner, Roman Godfrey.

Everyone saw that Roman was on edge; his sister was still missing, his pregnant girlfriend had been killed by a wild animal. Everyone walked on eggshells when Roman entered a room - his presence intimidating. He was a broken young man who was never satisfied.