Chapter 3

Fred's POV

Even angry and having several super valid arguments to expose in those emails I had been sending and receiving since the early hours of dawn, I had to stop to snap my fingers and breathe deeply before I ended up telling my partner to go to hell. Mondays irritated me naturally, and having to deal with a shitman who did not know how to identify a good deal and who was directly hindering me in a negotiation with Chinese and very profitable factories was at the top of my biggest irritations.

Honestly, I've always been wondering where I had my head to let August Spencil buy thirty-five percent of my company's shares, and why the fuck I still let him use the title of partner when he just did shit. The man did not see a good deal even if there was a sign in Neon with bottle letters about all the possibilities of that business yielding us funds in a matter of days, and the work of clashing with him and losing years of youth due to stress was always all mine.I sent an email that couldn't have been more aggressive - unless I cursed that panaca's mother - and leaned back on the chair, slightly loosening my tie and looking at the inbox.

The imbecile took twenty minutes to answer that he still did not agree with the contract he considered abusive - just because the Chinese demanded an active share in profits - but said he would sign so as not to have problems with our group of shareholders.

I had a cold laugh as I still ran my eyes through the computer screen. The man had to be very stupid not to see that being next to Chinese factories was all our Textile company would need to consolidate itself among the largest global potentials. It was just an arm of that business, an extension of power in new territories, and I always had a team of consultants to assess the damages, losses, and profits.

August was a first-class imbecile.I was already taking a deep breath to say that he should not only accept the shitty contract because of the unanimous opinion of the shareholders but also because I was the owner of that shit and already had his stock selling papers ready for our next meeting when I would practically force him to return the shares to me and fire him with pleasure. But the phone on my desk rang and the voice of my secretary interrupted my thoughts.

“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Hanson,” she said in her accent from the inside, which I always thought was cute, so I calmed down and looked at the device lost between the papers and contracts thrown anyway on its surface. “Miss Hanson is here to see you.”

“Send her in,” I answered when I reached the phone and pressed the button that would actually allow me to accept the call. I was still adapting to that crazy technology that made Soraya's voice interrupt me out of nowhere. “And bring a good dose of sugar-free coffee, Soraya.”

“Immediately, sir,” she said in automatic mode. I minimized the email screen, so as not to keep snorting from the anger that August made me go through, and I tried to fix the paperwork on the desk. As all contracts belonged to the same folder, it was very quick to store everything before the door opened. I was partially standing, putting the blue and heavy paste on the shelf behind my swivel chair when my sister appeared in the room with her almost too annoying excitement.

“What is this story of not letting your favorite sister in without an ad?” grumbled Madeleine Hanson in a grumble tone. I turned to find her pouting, sharpening her young girl's face even more.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I hate surprises,” I replied in a bad mood, looking away at Soraya with my glorious cup of coffee in hand. I took the cup and drank everything in one sip, no longer even savoring the bitterness of the grains and not even caring about the tongue that burned at the same time. I was really pissed off.

“Besides, you're not my favorite sister, you're just the only one.”

Madeleine gasped dramatically, putting a hand on her chest. Soraya passed her to get the cup back and ran out of the room, not wanting to stay to know what the content of the conversation would be. My secretary was smart. She had been with me for years, since the death of my father and my inauguration of the company, and I knew very well that my mood did not improve easily when I was in that shitty state.

The only person capable of something that would take me far from being pissed off should still be having breakfast at that moment or maybe running with our coach. Anyway, I even took a look at my cell phone to delude myself a little, thinking that Rebecca would have sent some more messages after the good morning I answered. I had to remember that our contract did not require her to be loving beyond the account with me and that I could not require her to help me deal with stress. Unfortunately, I would only see her on the weekend, even though I thought the night before Sunday had not been enough to delight in that paradise in the form of a woman.It took me a while to remember that my sister was still in the room, watching me in a strange way, almost as if she knew that my thoughts were taking me to some secret woman. So I tried to clear my throat and cross my arms, waiting to know what the hell she was doing there in the middle of eight o'clock in the morning.

“Why are you so cruel to me, dear older brother?” I rolled my eyes at the drama, although my expression softened a little. “I'm not being cruel.”

“So you have a wooden log stuck in your ass to be so angry without the slightest need?” she provoked, arching an eyebrow.I laughed without any humor, closing my face as I sat in the chair once again. Madeleine sat on the desk, not giving a damn about my unfriendly face. “Or have you been having little sex? If you let me introduce some friends…”