C8 Life has never been fair

The next day, Mr. Daniels made a visit to Clinton's office. He had to wait for a couple of hours as Clinton was engrossed in an international conference call, dealing with the demands of his expanding business empire.

As he emerged from the conference call and found his family chauffeur waiting for him, Clinton was somewhat surprised. Daniels rarely, if ever, came to the office. His mind began to wander as he speculated about the purpose of this unexpected visit.

"Mr. Daniels?" Clinton inquired, raising an eyebrow. "What brings you here today?"

Mr. Daniels shifted on his feet, a hint of unease in his expression. "Can I talk to you for a few moments, sir?"

Clinton nodded, though his curiosity was piqued. "Of course, Daniels. Please, have a seat."

As Mr. Daniels settled into the chair across from Clinton's desk, the weight of his concerns was palpable. It was clear that he had something important on his mind.

‘’Is everything okay? Did something happen to Sahara?’’ He asked worriedly as he led him to the lounge area in his office.

Mr. Daniel hesitated for a moment before answering. “Sir Clinton, is it already set in stone? Are you really not coming back?" He inquired, his voice tinged with desperation.

Clinton nodded solemnly.

"But Miss Sahara needs you. The day you left, she passed out, and she hasn't been well, she has been refusing to eat. She's heartbroken, sir. She misses you terribly," Mr. Daniels implored, his eyes reflecting his deep concern.

Clinton's gaze shifted to the window, his mind wrestling with a complex mix of emotions. He was well aware of the pain his absence had caused his daughter, but his resolve to move on with his life remained unwavering.

“Help me look after them. I will visit her as soon as it’s convenient.’’

‘’What Sahara needs is her father.’

‘‘I am still her father.’’ Regret flashed in his eyes.

‘‘From her perspective, I doubt it. She feels abandoned. Just like her mother.’’

Clinton's jaw tightened, and he looked away, unable to respond for a long time. The weight of his choices bore heavily on his shoulders. ‘’I appreciate your concern for them but I believe they will both learn to move on with time.’’

"It's easy for you to say. You are not the one who had the rug pulled out from under her feet and has to pick up the pieces of the relationship," Mr. Daniels said, his disappointment in Clinton evident.

"I will come to see her in a few days' time," Clinton offered as a glimmer of hope.

Mr. Daniels left the office, a heavy heart weighing him down. As he made his way out, he ran into an elegant woman, Lydia, dressed in a pink pastel suit. Snow white pearls adorned her neck. Her blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders in thick waves.

In her arms, she was cradling a baby. The bright smile on her face as she stared at the sleeping baby who was less than a month old outshone the pearls.

Mr. Daniels stopped in his tracks, a look of disgust replacing the worried look.

"Was it worth it?" he asked with disdain, glaring at the innocent child.

Lydia was taken aback by his disdainful look. "Mr. Daniels..."

He cast a scornful look at the baby in her arms. "How can you live with yourself after ruining the lives of two innocent people? How do you sleep at night? How can you build a family at the cost of an innocent child?"

Tears welled up in Lydia's eyes as she lowered her gaze. "We didn't mean to... we fell in love..."

Mr. Daniels snorted in derision. "There are a million single men out there. Why did it have to be someone else's husband?"

"Mr. Daniels!" Clinton's voice boomed as he walked over, reprimanding his chauffeur for overstepping his bounds.

"But it's the truth, right?" Mr. Daniels challenged, his disdain unwavering.

"I think you should leave," Clinton warned, his patience wearing thin.

Mr. Daniels's disdainful glare persisted. "You never really loved Mrs. Monique, did you? You were only with her for her money, power, and status, right?"

Clinton took a step forward, casting a warning glare. "Daniels."

"You were only with her for her money, power, and status, right?" Mr. Daniels repeated, his voice dripping with scorn.

In a moment of frustration, Clinton threw a punch at Mr. Daniels, who made no attempt to dodge. Lydia screamed in shock, and the commotion drew the attention of the security guards.

"Truth hurts, huh?" Mr. Daniels remarked, unfazed by the punch.

"Mr. Daniels, please stop provoking him," Lydia begged, her voice filled with concern.

"Get him out of here," the security guards ordered.

"Don't touch me. I can walk on my own," Mr. Daniels snapped as they tried to grab him.

~~~

"Ouch," Daniel flinched as Louise cleaned the dried blood around his mouth. "Be gentle."

Louise scoffed and poked at his swollen lip. "Be gentle, you say? Why didn't you tell yourself that before you went to confront Clinton?"

"How was I supposed to know that woman would walk in immediately after I finished talking to Clinton?" His voice carried a hint of disdain.

Louise put away the towel and reached for the antiseptic ointment. She squeezed a little on her finger and applied it to his swollen lips. "You are not young anymore. You can't act rashly."

Daniel sneered. "You should see how that woman proudly struts around the company like she owns the place."

"Well, technically speaking, she does now that Clinton is divorcing our Monique for those two."

"It's not fair. What right has she got to act all high and mighty? She's nothing but a gold-digger. Our Monique is the one who suffered with Clinton through all the struggles."

"Life has never been fair."

~~~~

The next morning at breakfast, an uneasy pall hung over the dining room. Clinton made forced attempts at cheerful chatter, but his hollow smiles and furrowed brow revealed an inner turmoil.

The maid entered, a phone extended in her hand. "Ma'am, there's a Ms. James on the line."

Lydia's fork paused midway to her mouth as her expression creased into a frown. She set her utensil down with a soft clink.

"Her again? How did she get the home line?" Constance asked.

"She used to be my secretary, it was inevitable for her to have my contact numbers."

"'Used to' is the key phrase. She isn't one now, is she?"

"No."

Clinton looked up. "Sarah Jones? What's going on?"

Constance's eyes narrowed to icy slits. "She visited Lydia at the hospital to complain about your soon-to-be ex-wife's outrageous behavior. Is that impudent woman out of her mind?" She stabbed her fork into her eggs with venom. "This will no doubt impact the company negatively!"

"She's well within her rights," Lydia said evenly, though her lap fidgeted with the linen napkin.

Constance whipped her head towards Lydia, curls slashing the air. "Well within her rights, my foot. What has she contributed apart from being a decorative piece in my son's house, wasting his money?" she turned back to her son. "And you? Why did you let things escalate to this point? Why didn't you convince her earlier to relinquish her shares?"

Clinton frowned. Her tone, attitude and sudden hostility towards Monique surprised him, but he had too much on his plate to delve into the matter.

Shooting an anxious glance at Clinton, Lydia excused herself to take the call. Constance's withering glare remained pinned on her son.

"Is what Sarah Jones said true? Did that vengeful harpy Monique actually fire half the staff?"

Clinton's jaw tightened.

"If that insufferable Ms. James hadn't alerted us, we'd still be oblivious!" Constance's nostrils flared.

A sneer twisted Clinton's lips. "She's nothing but a treacherous troublemaker. None of this would've happened if she hadn't provoked Monique."

Constance leaned across the table, her face inches from his. "Be honest with me. Do you still harbor feelings for that manipulative witch?"

"Where did you get that idea?" Clinton scoffed, leaning away from her.

"Then why did you allow her to decimate everything you've built and humiliate you so publicly?" Fury blazed in Constance's eyes. "Are you really that weak?"

Clinton recoiled as if struck. "She was within her legal rights as majority shareholder."

Constance slammed her palm on the table, making the china clatter. "Clinton! You're the one who foolishly granted her that power!"

His face flushed, but he said nothing, tearing off a hunk of roll and chewing furiously.

"Sixty percent," Constance hissed in disbelief. "How did it come to that? Were you so stupidly lovestruck that you agreed to such an obscenely one-sided partnership?"

Clinton stabbed his fork into his plate with such force, it scratched the porcelain. "She was the only one willing to invest in me after Jacques blacklisted me from every bank and lender."

"And whose was that?" Constance arched an immaculate eyebrow. "If you hadn't allowed yourself to be led about by your lustful urges, you wouldn't have been so desperate for her cash infusion!"

Clinton opened his mouth, but Constance barreled on, relentless.

"Where does this leave Alexander now that that woman's spawn owns the majority share? Will he forever be subjected to her whims?" She shook her head in disgust. "After all I sacrificed to secure your legacy..."

At that moment, Lydia re-entered, her porcelain features etched with worry. Constance wheeled on her, eyes glittering like flint.

"You must cut off all contact with that woman and anyone who lost their position yesterday. We cannot have her dragging us into oblivion with her," Clinton advised.

Rendered momentarily mute, Lydia could only nod faintly. As the tension crackled between the three of them, the fine china and glittering silver seemed to mock the illusion of their fragile, polished veneers.

~~~~~

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dining room window, illuminating the clutter of documents sprawled across the mahogany table. Monique sat hunched over them, her fingers drumming a restless rhythm. Fatigue etched lines around her eyes, and the air crackled with unspoken tension.

A hesitant knock on the door shattered the silence.

Louise, dressed in a boubou dress with a gardening apron around her neck, peeked in, her plump face creased with concern. "Ms. Monique?"

"What is it?" Monique snapped, her voice tight with suppressed irritation.

"You have a visitor."

"Whoever they are, tell them to leave."

"I tried, Ms. Monique..."

The sound of familiar footsteps on the hardwood floor cut Louise short. Monique froze, her hand hovering over a document. The footsteps stopped at the doorway, and Constance emerged, her regal posture a stark contrast to the chaos of the room.

Their gazes locked, the air thick with unspoken history. Monique's expression hardened into a mask of cold disdain. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not welcome?" Constance countered, her voice laced with steely amusement.

"I have no reason to welcome you into my house. Now leave."

Constance chuckled, a dry sound devoid of warmth. "Not before I say my piece." She tossed a manila folder onto the table, the thud echoing in the tense silence.

Monique raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, but didn't bother looking at the contents.

"Transfer share files. Name your price." Constance demanded.

Monique's eyes narrowed, her incredulity morphing into a flicker of anger. "Excuse me?"

"I demand you hand the shares over to Clinton," Constance declared, her voice firm. "He deserves them after all the hell you put him through."

Monique scoffed, a humorless sound. "Hell? Is that what you call my love for him?"

Her smile was cold, sharp as a knife.

"Love? You don't know a thing about love." Constance snorted, her voice dripping with disdain. "If you had loved him, you wouldn't have made him sign such an unfair agreement."

Monique's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching tightly. "Unfair? Constance, are you alright? Your son had nothing. He was nothing. It's my money that made him who he is today."

He didn't even qualify to carry my servants shoes! Monique thought to herself.

"He had dreams," Constance countered, her voice unwavering. "He had ambitions. He would have made it without your money. If you hadn't played on his desperation, someone else would have helped him."

"Who? He was a ticking time bomb. Nobody wanted anything to do with him."

"And whose fault is that?" Constance's voice rose, her anger flaring. "If you hadn't seduced him, he wouldn't have burned bridges with Jacques."

The crack of the hand meeting flesh echoed through the room, followed by stunned silence.

Louise gasped in shock, her hand flying to her mouth as the mother and daughter-in-law pair glared at each other. She watched them wide-eyed, wondering how the seemingly harmonious family had come to this.

The room quivered with suppressed fury, a tempest of emotions swirling between Monique and Constance. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next verbal blow to land.

Monique's hand trembled as she pointed an angry finger at her almost former mother-in-law. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and hurt.

Constance, her cheek still stinging from the slap, stood defiantly, a venomous smile playing on her lips. "Why? Does the truth hurt?"

"Don't you dare!" Monique's voice hissed through clenched teeth, her knuckles white.

"But it's the truth, isn't it?" Constance's tone was ice-cold. "You seduced my son and ruined his life."

Monique's control wavered. She gestured toward the door, her voice raw. "Get out!"