CHAPTER 6

Maximiliano got up from his chair and left his office, heading upstairs. Upon entering his bedroom, the largest in the house, he walked straight to his cell phone.

Dialed the number of his lawyer, who answered in less than three rings.

"Bastidas calling me early, this is weird," the lawyer joked. "What happened now?"

"Fred Davison is dead," Max reported. He could almost hear the gears of his legal advocate kicking in.

"When did it happen?"

"Lenis just called me and confirmed it."

"Mmm..." There was silence between the lines. "I'll get up to speed on his company's situation right away."

Max wanted to say, "Yes, please," or "Perfect," but chose to remain silent. He didn't like the deceased, but he was a human being after all, and it seemed cruel and disrespectful to confirm to his lawyer that the interest in calling him was only to investigate the status of the deceased's shares and assets. In other circumstances, he might not have minded being this painless with business, much less with someone who had become an enemy. But suddenly, prudence made its way into his head. He let his guard down a little.

"Wait a minute, Miller, I want to do this right," he said.

"Okay... All right, I'm listening," his lawyer told him.

Max sighed as he looked out the window of his room. The large open-air garage and his vehicles parked side by side, the lawn where he exercised and the security vans were the sights; albeit still rainy. And as he watched, concentrated on what to say next.

"What do you think about going to Davison's funeral?"

Max heard his lawyer chuckle.

"After he refused to sell you a stock he didn't even want, that you buy a property he's held in idleness for years after he told you that you weren't capable of progress and almost caused you to fail to graduate in business because of a stupid project he didn't feel like supporting, you plan to attend his funeral?"

"I don't want to misconstrue with thoughts that I wish to own everything he denied me in the past, now that he's dead." He and Miller were silent. "I wish to be smooth about this, George. Silken hands."

Miller laughed.

"Fred Davison was a man with a very complicated character, he sure left some tedious and ceremonious will. Don't mess with that, let his relatives bury him as perhaps he deserves, or as they wish it to happen, and then I'll help you show up on the scene. In the meantime, I'll find out his business status. That man may have been a jerk, but he was a great businessman, admittedly, and I'm sure he left something in place for when this happened."

"He has no family. As far as I know," Max reported. "As far as I remember, he has no descendants."

"Fred hadn't children?"

"Not with his last wife. We have to find out if he had them before he married her, I don't want any last-minute surprises to appear. That's why I'm telling you that I don't see the idea of showing up now as far-fetched."

"You're right about the children, but as far as showing up or not, take my advice, Bastidas. Let me find out first. Shall we have lunch today and talk about it?"

"Yes, that's fine. I'll ask your wife to set it up." Max heard a sort of exhaled chuckle through his cell phone earpiece. "What's wrong? Did I say something bad?"

"Very funny, Max."

"What? I didn't say anything wrong. I wasn't the one who married my best friend's secretary."

George cleared his throat, not out of pity, but to evade a growing annoyance. The gesture made Max laugh.

"Let me know where we'll meet," the lawyer preferred to say. "Summon Peter too, I haven't seen that idiot in a while."

"I'll try to, but when we spoke recently, told me he would be traveling. That's what I understood."

"Whatever. Let me know and I'll see you. And don't do anything before I find out if that English businessman has kids hiding over there. Times will get better, my friend. Those lands will be yours at last, and will be no paper to bifurcate that destiny."

***

"Mr. Fitzgerald is on the phone," Lenis Evans' secretary announced through the speaker.

Maximiliano, that same day, was already in his office now, reading some documents when the phone rang for a new announcement.

"Who is he?"

"Mr. Fred Davison's attorney. Calling from England."

Maximiliano looked away from the papers and placed them on his desk. He was quite surprised that someone from that corporate group was calling him.

"Put him through."

Within seconds, the two men were on the same page.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Thank you very much. Everyone here is devastated."

Maximiliano didn't feel any desolation in those words.

"I'm very intrigued by your call. I thought you would still be making funeral preparations."

"Mr. Davison has already been cremated this morning."

Max's eyebrows arched and his lips parted slightly.

"We need to meet urgently, Mr. Bastidas," Fitzgerald continued. The CEO wrinkled his face. "As the personal attorney of the founder of the Davison & Associates Corporation, and now his executor, I must invite you to the reading of the final document."

"Excuse me... Are you inviting me to the reading of Fred Davison's will?"

"Yes."

Max was speechless for a couple of seconds.

"Why?"

Maximiliano heard Mr. Fitzgerald clear his throat.

"Because you are the heir to 70% of his corporation's shares."

Silence reigned on that side of the world, and on the other side as well."

"Counsel, is this a joke?" Max asked.

"The will read take place tomorrow at 4:00 p.m., of course, online. London time, five hours less where you are. So my assistant will contact yours to coordinate the chat room to be used for the occasion."

"Hold on a second..."

"Please note that another person mentioned in the documents will be present at the meeting. I hope to see you tomorrow then. We will contact your secretary shortly. Have a good day."

The communication was cut off, leaving a bewildered Max.

"What on earth just happened?" he wondered.

He hurried out of the office, alerting one of the building's bodyguards, Tyler Clement (nicknamed T.C.), a tall, stocky, shaven-haired man who rose from his seat in the small sitting room located in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows just as he saw the CEO storm out of the office.

"Sir? Is there a problem?" the bodyguards said.

Max held up his palm indicating to him that was nothing to do with him and to remain seated. Then, he looked at his secretary, who reciprocated the gesture, while she answered the phone call of which Bastidas himself was already aware.

"Thank you very much," Lenis said into the phone, looking at her boss standing next to her, "I'm sorry for the loss of Mr. Davison... Ok, 09:00 a.m. local time, Friday..." Max nodded, authorizing Lenis to schedule that meeting in his agenda. The black-haired woman, with long, soft curls and extremely blue eyes, wrote down on her iPad the password data to enter the chat room that would be used the next day. "Right, thank you very much. See you tomorrow." Lenis hung up and looked at her boss with a puzzled face.

"Fitzgerald's assistant?"

Lenis nodded in response, intrigued by her boss's attitude.

Maximilian exhaled only once, placed his hands in jars, and lost his gaze for a moment, immersing himself in his thoughts.

He brought his eyes back to hers then.

"Call your husband urgently, tell him to come at once. This is serious."