“So that means he can be removed from the company, and you don’t have to actually kill your brother,” I said.
“But what story would we use to dissuade the public?” Blake asked.
“I asked the assassin to burn the car down with a body in it,” I said. “So the story is that Nick died on the trip to the meeting, but his driver managed to survive the accident.”
“Hmm, horror events like that tend to get eaten up by the public often.” He paused to think about it. “Alright, fine then, I have gotten what I wanted, so I suppose I can let Nick live the life of a filthy peasant just the same way he forced me to live among swine.”
“Again, not by choice that we were born this way,” I pointed out.
“Oh, Hunter, I’m in such a good mood that I don’t even feel any of your empty threats,” he said with delight. “Ah…father’s legacy would finally be in my hands. Like I thought, I’m the only one who could truly protect and define it.”
At least he was finally happy. That just left one issue.
“I just had a thought. What if Nick woke up and got curious?” he asked.
“Well, in that case…”
“No, no, no…” He shook his head. “I’m not taking any chances. Take him far away from my sight. You watch him and make sure he doesn’t do anything that would bring his memory back.”
“I see, I understand,” I replied.
“Good, and every single detail about him should be handed over to me,” he emphasized. “And if there’s even a microscopic chance that his memories are returning, alert me as soon as possible.”
That was how I was made to watch over Nick. Pretending to be his friend while keeping tabs on his brother, who wanted him dead. I was disgusted.
Now Nick was awake, and I was burdened with passing the message of his return to his brother.
Honestly speaking…I didn’t want to involve myself any longer in this.
Chapter 5
A Stolen Throne
Blake
Life was good.
“Mr. President, we’re facing a decline in sales and exports,” one of the board members said. “Relying on oil alone seems like a bad idea after all.”
“Nonsense, the country is in a rot right now. That’s why things don’t seem to be going in our favor lately,” I said. “Besides, with the moves I’m making, your pockets will be so full, your fat mouths won’t be able to complain.”
“That is beside the point,” another member said. “The first year was not so bad, but with this year, we're really starting to see some negative effects. I hate to say this, but maybe your late brother foresaw this.”
There were murmurs of agreement. This meeting wasn't going in my favor.
“Gentlemen, please trust me,” I said with confidence as I paced around them. “I will not allow the company to sink. Remember why we're all here.”
I walked up to the portrait of my dead father. “We're here to ensure that we don't lose sight of what truly matters. We're here to make sure that my father's legacy doesn't go downhill.”
Some of them seemed to think about it for a moment. After brooding for a few seconds, they nodded in support of my argument.
“Now, I'm sure my father faced harder times when he started,” I said. “Believe me when I say that our troubles pale in comparison to his. So we can continue moping and thinking this minor bump in the road is beyond our control, or we can actually sit back and strategize what to do in the long-term.”
“Your brother had a long-term plan,” the member said. “But he's dead now, and there's nothing we can do about it.”
“Yeah, too bad, and unless you know how to resurrect someone from the dead, then there's nothing you can do but sit and be patient,” I replied. “Now, are there any more complaints?”
They looked at each other, but no one said anything.