LOGIN"Hey, watch your steps. Have you suddenly gone blind?” Fabiola yelled at Jenny for hitting him accidentally after she dashed out of Alvin's office angrily.
"Speak of the ruthless devil. Bullshit,” Jenny hissed angrily and motioned for her duty post before Fabiola could counter her words. "What the fuck is wrong with her? Did I do anything to upset her?” Fabiola asked rhetorically and pondered why she acted like that. Judging from her shitty attitude, he could discern that something was eating her up. These two weren't on talking terms. Jenny doesn't even find Fabiola fascinating as a person or as the managing director of Royal Gold Mine, but she hasn't for one moment spoken to him rudely aside now. "Her attitude speaks volumes. But whatever it is, I'm ready to go ask Dad,” Fabiola muttered and walked inside his father's office. "You should respect my privacy. You don't just break into people's offices as you wish. This is a reputable organization. Show some courtesy,” he scolded Fabiola for breaking in. "Easy on me, Dad. I meant no harm. I just had a nasty encounter with Jenny outside the office. She looked tense and angry. Something is eating her up, and I bet you know about it.” Fabiola sat down and popped the question. "And why would I know anything about it? You had the opportunity to ask her, but you goofed. I thought you'd never show up. What changed?” he ignored the question, but Fabiola wasn't ready to back out either. "I see what you did there. Stop running away from the question, Dad. A little explanation would do. Did you do anything to upset her? I haven't seen her that angry before. I bet you did something to trigger that provocation.” Fabiola kept pushing for an answer. "Okay, fine. I'll spill it already.” He bowed to pressure and explained about the stolen check. "Okay? I got the picture! She came begging you to drop all charges against her mother, and you refused, hence her anger? It wasn't your fault her mother stole from us. She deserves to be punished to set an example for those opportunists out there,” Fabiola supported his father's actions. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's a twist. I intend to drop all the charges against her mother. For some reason, though,” he unleashed the bombshell that left Fabiola astounded. "What reason could that be? Please come off it. This isn't you talking. When did you become this Nice? We both know this is a prank. I mean, her mother can't escape prosecution. A few years behind bars would help reset her head.” Fabiola laughed mischievously and doubted his father. Alvin Alejandro is known for one thing, except for forgiveness. He barely forgives, irrespective of the victim involved. Now, hearing his father speak about granting a pardon to a stranger who stole such an outrageous amount is what Fabiola doesn't seem to comprehend. “I need an explanation, Dad. You're making me nuts. Why would she be granted a pardon? Are you having a secret affair with her?” "What an insult! This is a slap on my face. Why would you even think of such? Come on, son. I can't stoop so low to have a relationship with a peasant. For your information, I've got no intention of having a relationship or getting married again. I demand an apology for that false accusation. You should know me better than the rubbish you just spew,” he slammed his desk in anger. Ever since he lost his wife, he has never considered getting another wife, let alone having a secret affair with one of his staff. "Apologies, Dad. Sorry, I said that. I just feel there's more to this. I know you too well. You just don't become so good and benevolent in one day. So I insist, why did you decide to drop all charges?” "I know this may sound so ridiculous, but you just need to know. She's gonna marry you for three years. Then she can file for divorce afterward…" "Wait, wait, hold on a sec.” Fabiola made an upraised hand to interrupt his father. "But I'm not done yet,” he protested. "What else do I need to hear? Just like you said, this is absurd. I can't even marry that godforsaken leper called Jenny for a second. I would rather become a priest than get married to her. If she was the only girl remaining in the world, I would rather stay single for the rest of my life. How did you even think of such a thing? You amuse me,” Fabiola stood up and sparked outrageously. He wouldn't stop yelling at his Dad as though they were mates. "Can you stop yelling and get your ass down? I'm still your father and not one of those numerous prostitutes you flock around town with. I deserve some respect.” he calmed the situation and asked Fabiola to sit. Reluctantly, he obeyed and looked at his father with a bombastic side-eye. Alvin sighed and revealed the multi-billion dollar deal, Royal Gold Mine could lose if Fabiola refused to get married to Jenny. "So this is what everything is about. Are you selling me out for money? How cruel can you be? You aren't even concerned about my feelings. Do you even bother to ask what I want?” "I care about your future, that's why I'm doing this for you. Remember you'd one day inherit my legacy? I need to lay a better foundation for you.” "And what if I decline?” “You dare not because you're gonna be affected. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you to do it because if you don't, you risk losing your inheritance to your kid brother. I'll transfer all rights to him, and you'd be reduced to a mere staff of Royal Gold Mine. Which means, he automatically becomes my heir apparent,” "This is the height of wickedness. Am I even your biological son? I know you never liked me, but this? It is cruelty,” Fabiola placed his head on the desk and bemoaned. He didn't see this coming. If anyone had told him his father would do this, he would have gotten the person arrested for trying to destroy his future. "Enough with the emotions. Are you in or not? There's no time to think about it.” "You speak as though I've got a choice. I'll do this. What about her, did she accept?” Fabiola agreed after a prolonged silence. “Awesome! Worry not about her. She's just proving stubborn. She'll come around,” Alvin assured. Moments later, LaJennyjenny walked inside with a file in her possession. The moment she saw Fabiola seated in the office, she made a U-turn to walk away. “I'm sorry I have to come back. I can't stand him,” "That won't be necessary. You two need to start getting used to each other since you'll be living together for the next three years,” Alvin announced with a smile. "What do you mean? I haven't accepted your proposal yet,” she asked with a cracked tone. "I don't have a problem with your acceptance. I was only concerned about Fabiola's, but he has accepted already.” “He did?” Astonished, she asked. “Oh, yes, he did. Shocking right? I knew you would be,” Alvin laughed. “This is unbelievable. I thought…" Jenny paused for a moment after her phone suddenly rang from a strange caller. “Sorry, I need to take this,” she frowned and placed the phone on her left ear. "Yes, it's Jenny. Who are you? My mom? What happened to my mom? I would be there immediately,” she screamed and got off the phone. “What happened to your mom?” with the deepest concern, Alvin inquired. "I just got off the phone with a cop at the station. It's about my mom. He sounded so urgent. I think she's in danger,” She replied hurriedly. “Damn! Hold on a sec while I drop you off,” he opted. “ I'll find my way,” Jenny declined his request and stepped outside. Despite the devastating news, Fabiola wasn't moved. He remained glued to his position as though it were nobody's business.Detective Tan's development could wait one more morning.That was what I told myself when I put the phone face-down on the nightstand and lay in the dark for three more hours not sleeping. Harry had said the same thing when I showed him the message over breakfast. We will go first thing. But tonight you rest. He had said it in the voice he used when he was not asking.I had not rested.By eleven I gave up on the dark and the ceiling and I sat up in the guest room bed with my back against the headboard and my hands on the place where seven months had changed the entire landscape of my body.Seven months.The baby was the size of a cauliflower, according to the book. The book said that with the cheerful specificity of people who had never considered how strange it was to describe a human being as produce.A soft knock at the door at eleven thirty."Still awake?" Harry's voice, low."Yes."The door opened. He stood in the frame in the dark, a glass of water in one hand. He looked at me s
Fabiola did not answer right away.He sat very still across the table, his coffee untouched, my mother's question hanging in the kitchen air with the weight of something that had not been spoken in six years."No," he said finally.His voice was flat. Steady. He looked at my mother and did not look away. "I have never been to your house. Not that night. Not any night before yesterday.""Where were you that August?" she said."At school. Switzerland. I did not come home that summer at all. You can verify it. There are records. Tuition records, the dormitory log, a passport stamp showing I did not fly back into the country until October."My mother studied him for a long time.The kitchen held its breath.I watched her face, the careful assessment she had always made of rooms and people, the same eyes that had recognized Alvin across a sitting room and known him instantly. She was running the same calculation on Fabiola now."It could have been Harry," she said slowly. "Harry was old en
Harry told me about my grandfather over a cup of tea at the kitchen table.He sat across from me and he said it plainly, the way he said all the hard things, without softening the edges or building toward it. Robert Knowles. 1987. Floyd County. A parcel of land that had belonged to my father's father, acquired by Alvin Alejandro in the same year my father was eleven years old.I held the cup and did not say anything for a long time."Jenny.""I heard you.""I know this is...""Don't." I set the cup down. "Don't tell me what this is. Give me a minute."I thought about my father at eleven years old.I thought about a family that had already lost something they did not understand losing. A parcel of land in Floyd County, whatever it meant to them, whatever they had planned to do with it, gone the same year Alvin Alejandro had been building the foundation of his empire. My grandfather, Robert Knowles, whose name I had heard twice in my life and whose face I knew only from a photograph tha
Josh sent the first file at two forty-seven in the morning.Fabiola was at the kitchen table in the Decatur house with a coffee he had stopped tasting an hour ago and a laptop that had been running since midnight. The file arrived in a compressed folder, eighteen months of northern expansion correspondence, and when he opened it the first document on the list was an internal memo dated four years ago from his father's office to the head of environmental compliance.The memo read: Approval required by end of quarter regardless of outstanding review status. Use discretionary fund protocol Delta.He sat with that sentence for a long time.Discretionary fund protocol Delta.He typed it into the search bar.Forty-three documents came back.He called Josh at three fifteen."Protocol Delta," he said."I know." Josh's voice was flat and awake, the voice of a man who had already seen where this road went. "I found it in the financial archive an hour ago. It runs through the charitable foundati
The blog post went up at eleven forty-seven on a Tuesday morning.I know because Tasha sent me a screenshot at eleven forty-nine with no message attached, just the image, which was her way of telling me something needed to be seen without having to say that she had been watching for it.The blog was called Atlanta After Dark. The writer was a woman named Celestine Park who had been covering Atlanta society for nine years and had a gift for the suggestive sentence, the kind that implied more than it stated and left the reader to construct the accusation themselves.The headline read: Trouble in Paradise? Whispers Around the Alejandro Heir's Marriage.The piece was three hundred words.It did not name Harry. It did not name me specifically beyond the new Mrs. Alejandro, formerly a company secretary. It said that sources close to the family had noted unusual tension at a recent private gathering. It said that Royal Gold Mine's stock had opened that morning at a slight dip, which it attri
The detective's name was Claire Tan and she had the kind of stillness that came from listening to people in bad situations for a very long time.She sat across from my mother at a folding table in a conference room at the Zone 3 precinct, a yellow legal pad open in front of her, a pen she had not yet picked up. She looked at my mother the way people looked at my mother when they were trying to figure out how seriously to take her.My mother looked back at her without blinking."Start from the beginning," Detective Tan said.My mother put her hands flat on the table."A man was waiting outside my home this morning at approximately six twenty-five AM. He was standing near the laundry across the street. When my neighbor Dorothy Haines came out of her building, he grabbed her arm. Dorothy screamed. He ran.""He grabbed your neighbor. Not you.""He was waiting for me. Dorothy was wearing a coat similar to mine. In the morning light the mistake was easy to make."Detective Tan picked up he
The soup was butternut squash.I know because I stared at it for a long time without eating it, watching the cream swirl at the center settle into the surface. Listening to the first ten minutes happen around me the way a person listens to rain from inside a car. Alvin was talking. He was always ta
I dressed slowly.Not the way I had dressed for the Ashworth gala, with a stylist and a tailor's note and a plan in a black folder. This was slower. More careful. The kind of dressing that has nothing to do with fabric and everything to do with the person you are deciding to be when you walk into a
It started at 5:47 on a Monday morning.Not gently. Not the polite nausea of a woman who simply cannot face coffee. It arrived like an eviction notice. I made it to the bathroom with four seconds to spare and spent the next eleven minutes on the cold tile with my forehead against the cabinet and my
Veronica knew.That was the thing I carried through the two weeks between her message and the morning I told Fabiola. Not what she knew exactly. Not yet. Because when I met her at the café on Marietta Street the next morning she had arrived before me, ordered nothing, and placed a single photograph







