CHAPTER THREE

                        SANTIAGO’S POV

With furrowed brows, I inspected the weekly financial reports that my secretary dropped on my table.

The stock markets had taken a nosedive. I rubbed the bridge of my nose in sheer anger as I stared at the financial reports pooled on my mahogany desk. Unimpressive numbers danced before my eyes and I cursed at the fluctuating stocks. 

Low stocks were usually bad and could be a disaster for the investments, especially when some dramatic major shareholders got paranoid and withdrew their shares rather than being patient till it rose again.

“This has to be the most fucked up thing I’ve seen today,” I muttered to myself, my voice laced with both anger and resignation. “This is just unacceptable, something must be done.”

The tip of my fingers traced the documents as I pondered on how to maneuver myself in the conference meeting I had later in the day. The arrows on the graphs and charts irritated me because they went down lower than usual. The conference room was going to be almost like a battlefield, but I had to be very strategic. I had sent an email to the HR about my decision to add a strict three months notice before a shareholder can extract their shares from the group.

The notice gave me three months to plan something new and with the rate at which stocks normally went high, it would have risen by three months, which left their shares in the company.

My concentration was still stuck on the economic data and the plans I had written down, when suddenly my landline rang, pulling me out of the maze. I picked it up and my secretary’s voice echoed into the line.

“Your brother is here to see you sir,” she announced, her voice tingling with caution as she waited for my permission to let him in. She must have guessed my reaction to the stock results, for her to talk and walk on tiptoes around me.

“Let him in,” I ordered with a dismissive tone and leaned back in my seat, waiting for my younger brother to stomp in and yell at me for the most obvious reason on the ground at the moment.

The doorknob turned and with a resigned sigh, I readied myself for the inevitable confrontation that was coming ahead. The slamming of the door gave me a preview of how the conversation was going to be.

“Santiago,” he called, his tone dripping with indifference as he strode over with hard steps. “How dare you?”

“I see it’s Santiago today and not Santi. I wonder what changed.” I folded my arms on my chest as I replied to him sarcastically.

“Santi was the brother I thought I could look up to, a brother I was proud of. But Santiago is just a cold hearted man who knows nothing about feelings.”

“Watch Your Words, Elio.” I warned quietly.

“I am not considerate of your feelings, I don’t care. I am here to give you a piece of my mind. How dare you give divorce papers to Liya? How could you do this to her?”

My jaw tightened at the mention of my arranged wife, but I refused to let my emotions show. Laliya was someone I hated because she came into my life and disrupted my carefully planned life. I had done a good job avoiding her since our wedding, which was three years ago. That was soon changing because since I served the divorce to her, I had heard her name more than I had in our three-year-marriage.

First it was my parents who called to question my decision as if it wasn’t the agreement on the contract. Then it was about thirty business partners who had asked for her welfare from me. Now it was my brother.

‘Get married to her for three years,’ they said. ‘After three years, you get the ownership of the company,’ they said. So why were they annoyed that I followed the rules?

I picked my pen from the table and twirled it between my fingers, trying to ignore the obvious truth that my brother and my arranged wife were close. How close? I couldn’t tell, but it looked like they were really close if he called her Liya instead of Laliya. 

“It’s bound to happen anyway. Why are you being saltier than she is?” I spat, my voice void of remorse. Why should I feel remorseful?

“Because she is a woman who cares about others feelings more than her own. She even got married to a man she didn’t know because she thought it would make her dead father happy. Why are you so blind that you can’t see the gem you are letting go of?”

“This gem you speak of, did you send you over? Did she tell you to come over and tell me this?”

“Oh I’m glad she didn’t. I would rather die than watch her beg to be with you. She doesn’t care or at least she doesn’t show that she cares.”

I met his hard gaze with a cool peer of mine. His peer penetrated my body, but I knew my brother. Elio was a warm hearted, soft man who wasn’t capable of holding such anger for a long time. “So why do you? Why do you care if she doesn’t care? Are you…” I narrowed my eyes on Elio. “...are you in love with her?”

His muscles flexed in anger, but I could no longer take my questions back. Not that I wanted to, I was curious because my brother had never hesitated to fight for her. “What nonsense are you saying, Santi?”

A smirk crossed my face at his use of Santi, but he just glared at me. I knew he would fall back in no time. “Are you or are you not?” I pestered.

“Of course I’m not, but I wish I married her instead of you. At least I would treat her right.”

I gave an elegant shrug. Even I wished my brother had married her instead. “Good for you.”

“How could you not think about her feelings for once? How could you not ask if she was ready for the divorce? Even if it was bound to happen, did you ask if she was prepared for it?”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Elio. Laliya and I had a mutually known agreement,” I responded calmly, my voice empty of any emotion. “Our marriage was a business arrangement and nothing more. Dad and our lawyer said ‘get married for three years to get the ownership of your properties’ and that was what I did. It’s time we both moved on and do some other things”

“Some other things like what?” Elio asked, his face scrutinizing in suspicion. I was both shocked and impressed that he understood what I meant, but I waited for him to accuse me of it before I jumped into conclusion. “Santiago Meadows, did you orchestrate the divorce so that you can marry that rude, spoiled girl?”

My eyes turned red and I stood up from my chair. “Mind yourself, Elio, I’m warning you. That ‘girl’ has a name and she is a woman.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Did I hurt your precious Alexia?” he called her name with so much scorn that I almost winced. It was no secret that Elio didn’t like Alexia, my long time girlfriend, but I was in love with her, so I didn’t care.

“Were you seeing her while you were married to…”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me a cheater? I never did that. A day before my wedding to Laliya, I called Alexia and told her we wouldn’t meet until after three years. Did you even know how scared I was that she would break up and leave me? How many women would wait for a man to get married to another woman for three years?” I yelled, the vein in my neck almost popping.  “So what now? You want me to never divorce your precious best friend and break the heart of my girlfriend who stood aside for three whole years, watching her boyfriend being married to someone else? The double standard you have for both ladies is shocking, Elio.”

My brother opened his mouth to say something, but I raised my hand to shut him up. “Alexia is the one I love, the one who makes me happy. If you choose your best friend’s happiness over your brother’s, then that says a lot more about you than me. Leave! I have more pressing matters at hand.”

And with that, I turned my attention back to the financial reports on my desk, ignoring my brother who mumbled some words that I couldn’t comprehend, before he eventually left my office.