Withstanding the Odds

Chapter 5: Bronson

Some would call me unfair; I have made it my life's goal to surround myself with only people that have the same desire as myself. Asking to leave early, requesting time off for her godforsaken wedding, it's all pushed me in the direction of replacing Bethany. I won't, not if I don't have to, but this is exactly the push she needs to remind herself of what is profoundly important in the walls of this building.

My grandfather handed Forthworth Inc. over to me four years ago, and, in that time span I have made it into the enterprise it is today. At just thirty years old, I am the most successful billionaire in the city and have no means of slowing down at any time.

I spend the remainder of my time at my desk and answering calls. When I look up at the clock on the wall across the room, I notice the time and see its nearing nine pm. Shutting down my computer and grabbing my phone, and wallet, I leave my office and head for the elevator. I spot Bethany still at her desk, looking down at the mound of paperwork littering her desk. She looks up when she hears my office door close with anger and a wounded pride.

“Good night Bethany. You may leave as soon as all your work here is done." I turn and head for the elevator before she could say anything.

I have never understood a weak and meager attitude. My personality is that of a bull unchained and agitated, I won't let anything stand in my way of running this company the way I had envisioned.

By the time I am walking out of Fortworth Inc, Rand, my driver and head security personnel is standing beside the SUV with the rear passenger door open and waiting on me. I climb into the car then wait while he does the same, speeding out into the city with fury.

“Good evening Sir?"

“Yes, thank you. We will be heading home and then we need to discuss the next few days and what I will need from you Rand."

“Yes Sir."

I study my phone for the next thirty minutes. Although I do not live far from my company, this is New York and in New York, there is unfortunately traffic.

Stepping into the elevator and inserting my card into the slot for my penthouse, I ride up the forty-five stories, Rand by my side and continue sending my messages. The elevator dings and I step out, breathing in relief when I am finally home. I turn and eye Rand who is still inside the elevator.

“Rand, I need to be picked up no later than seven AM. I have a meeting with Anderson corporation at eight and we cannot be late. I also need a reservation for lunch around the same area. I won't take long, so do not leave the area in case I summon you."

“Yes Sir. Good night Sir." Nodding my head, I turn and contuse my way through the house, heading right for the kitchen as the terrible migraine from earlier makes its triumphant return.

Pulling out my bottle of scotch, I pour myself a drink and take it, along with my phone to the study and sit down beside the already lit fireplace. This is by far the most peaceful room in the house and so I often as for Nadia, my chef and housekeeper, to light it just before she leaves.

My phone chimes as I take my first drink and when I look down at it, I notice it's a message from Cassandra. I groan when I see her message is replying to my question when I first left Forthworth Inc, asking where she was.

My fiancé doesn't often sit still.

Cassandra: My darling Bronson, work needed me urgently and that unfortunately meant I was needed in Europe.

A growl leaves my chest as I place my phone down and down the rest of the scotch in my tumbler. Counting to ten I take a deep breath, then pick my phone back up and message her.

Me: Unacceptable Cassandra. We have a charity function to attend where the mayor of New York is awarding me, personally. I expect you back here by then.

Without looking back at my phone, I stand, place my glass down in the kitchen, then walk upstairs and head to bed. I expect Cassandra to see my message and heed to my wishes, and I always get my expectations.