No Peace

At the top floor, inside the grand onyx glass skyscraper, a young man with cold blue eyes sat on an executive chair with his leg crossed on the table. The warm sun streamed into his office, casting its glow on the ring and black leather wristwatch he was wearing. He held a file and scanned it seriously, but to be honest, he didn't understand a word written on it.

Zyran's mind was still trapped in the detailed event of the previous night. After he left the club, he didn't have time to think properly because he dressed up and left for work. And right now, he still couldn't think because his workers kept talking.

"Yes, we had the highest sales of the heritage du cœur with over fifty million Aurdia, but then... that is the lowest we have sold since debuting a wine. We need to do better," an elderly man dressed in a suit spoke through the tiny mic in front of him.

Another countered, "No, it's not. Remember, it was only sold to younger folks. There was no advertising or wider sales for it. Yet it made a big debut. We should..."

Their voices faded into nothing. Zyran held the book over his face and just stared blankly at the white sheet. He didn't make a mistake... he shouldn't make a mistake. He shook his head.

He had never made one. He shouldn't. He wasn't supposed to. The young heir kept saying to himself. How could he have slept with a girl without protection? Why? Was the better question.

And what bothered him the most was he didn't get to pay the girl. There was no evidence of their transaction. So, if the girl should run out and blab that she was forced, he would be going to jail. At this moment, a blonde girl had his clean image in her hands. She could ruin it or do whatever she wanted with it.

"We can have the swan girl make sales for us again," one of the marketers suggested. "She was able to sell over a hundred bottles in one night. Those of us who were at the club last night witnessed it, right?"

Hearing the mention of the club and last night made Zyran clench his teeth in annoyance.

"Get out," his tone laced with annoyance echoed, returning a disturbing silence to the room. "Everyone."

They didn't need to be told twice, as the board members packed up their pitch and presentation and scrambled out of the room. It was no secret the young grandson of Alvaro couldn't control his temper. There had been cases of breaking things and even hitting some of the staff. Yet no one dared to report it since Montclair could snap them out of existence with just a phone call.

Now left alone in silence, Zyran pushed his head back on the chair and closed his eyes. The sun kissed his face so brightly, making his brown styled hair glow.

"Who is she?" Zyran asked himself, raising his hand to his face to shield himself from the sun. All Zyran could remember clearly was her blonde hair.

Hearing footsteps, Zyran narrowed his eyes, wondering who dared to walk in when he had sent everyone out.

"Good morning, cousin," a young girl in her early twenties greeted. "Does grandfather know you're harassing your workers again?"

Zyran ignored the girl and just stared at her blankly to know what she came for.

"Here is the new staff we are employing. She'll be trained by me, Milena Dennis. I need you to sign for her salary and accommodation."

Zyran took out a ballpoint pen from his breast pocket, signed the file, and waved the young girl to leave.

"Always so cold. See you during the family gathering, cousin." She smiled as she cat-walked out of the room.

Zyran took out a silver box that had brown cigarettes stacked in them. He lit one up, dragged a smoke, and puffed it out.

"An unhealthy lifestyle," Roman's voice echoed as he stood by the door, holding two cups of coffee.

Zyran dragged another smoke, flicked the butt into an ashtray, and sighed. "Can't have peace anywhere, can I?"

"No," Roman smiled. "I am your doctor, and it's my job to make sure you're living a healthy life to take over the Montclair shares. That is what I'm paid to do as your personal doctor."

Zyran turned his chair around, now staring at the world outside through the transparent glass. "Bold of you to assume I'm taking over anything."

"Here is morning coffee. With full cream," Roman dropped the coffee on the table and walked to stand beside the wall, sipping his own slowly.

Zyran continued with his smoking, his eyes dully staring at the world below him.

"Something happened last night, right?" Roman asked, pushing the coffee to the side of his face. "Others might not have noticed, but I did."

Zyran smirked, cocking his head to the side. "Must be good, noticing what others don't. Which is why you're in someone else's business."

"I'm just worried about you," Roman said, twitching his lips. "You can't keep pushing everyone out. Tell me what is wrong with you, and I might help. The dreams... what do you dream about?"

Zyran pushed the chair back and stood abruptly. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and sighed. "I can't have my own peace in my own office." He sighed, staring blankly at the cup of coffee.

"Roman," he started, his blue eyes staring blankly at his old friend. "Don't cross the line." Pushing the coffee to the side, he exited the office.

Roman chewed his lips, staring at the cup of coffee and the cigarette. He took another sip from his coffee and sighed. Taking out his phone, he dialed a number.

"He is resisting again. His temper is worsening without control, and I fear he is going to go for days without eating." Roman paused, debating whether or not to say everything he knew.

"Keep talking," the cold voice from the other end commanded.

"Last night... it seems something happened to him last night. I don't think it has to do with the rain, but he has been really worried about something. His emotional state isn't great right now, and if anyone wants to take over the company, it's now. Zyran is not emotionally stable," he reported.

"Good job. Find out what happened last night," the voice spoke curtly and ended the call.

Roman stared blankly at the number he'd just dialed and sighed. "I'm sorry, old friend," he muttered to himself. Taking another sip from his coffee, he exited the office.