The Mckleons' Plan

Chapter One

Hector Mckleon. P. O. V

I stood behind my father, trying desperately to comfort him as he placed his head on the desk. He was crushed by the sad news we received earlier in the day. My mother left the house to travel back to Angola, where they first met. I was aware that she had a mental health condition before, but I never knew that it could affect their marriage so badly.

My parents had a strange relationship. Sometimes dull, as if they were not even together. Whereas on some days, they were two lovebirds in the house living a lavish life. I learned from their experience that money was good, but also had the power to break someone's happiness when they start to rely on it too much.

It was always bizarre to see the poorest people were the most materialists, for money occupied an important part in their lives. I wasn't the richest person in the world. However, my family and I had quite enough to live with. My father taught me that the needs of a man were having a shelter which consisted of a place to live, clothes and food.

Remembering his advice, it would've been a huge mistake if I forgot to mention that a man's duty was also caring for the woman of his dreams. He had to give her what she deserves, treat her like the queen that she is. Although my father did so for my mother, she still abandoned us which made me question the meaning of these words.

What hurt me the most was knowing that my mother took nothing with her, not even her luggage. She simply got up and left. It made me feel that all she needed was to be away from my father and I. Yet, I could only blame her medical condition for that.

"Father, your coffee is getting cold," I said, giving him a mild pat on his shoulder. He shook his head as a long sigh escaped his lips. I didn't know what to say nor how to act, for I had never seen him in so much pain before. I could tell by seeing him restraining the tears.

"Did-did François call?" He asked, slightly raising his head. Even in such dark moment, he was thinking about work. He refused to leave the office, while he kept looking at his phone, hoping that my mother's name would flash on the broken screen. I gripped the phone from the desk and slipped it into my pocket.

"Give it back!" His eyes extended as if I had just snatched one of his most valuable possessions away from him. He looked devastated.

"I said... Give it to me!" He repeated in a plain angry tone. Then, the door opened. There appeared one of my father's top associates, Mr. François Colman, the one I could not stand even for a short second.

"Harry McKleon, my old time friend! It's so nice seeing you," Exclaimed Mr. François in a pleasant manner.

I could never fully trust him even though my father did. They had been friends for ten years. I heard that he had a daughter whose name was Viviane whom I never had a chance to meet.

I was curious to see what she looked like in person, for her name sounded French. I was told by Mr. Colman François's secretary, Matilde, that his daughter had the opposite skin complexion from him. I guessed she was brown or maybe darker. Whatever was the case, I wanted nothing to do with the François family.

"Please, have a seat!" Offered my father, in a nonchalant voice. He was pretending to be alright. In fact, that was his regular habit, since he never wanted any rumors to slip out to the media. My father, Harry, was always cautious when it came to his family's privacy and I admired that.

"So, what do you have for me today?"

A smile grew on Mr. François's lips as he placed his briefcase on the desk. He opened it and took a yellow folder out with a vibrant expression in his eyes.