Chapter 3

Kendrick’s POV

Five years later…

“Please calm down, I will handle this as soon as possible,” I rapped, tugging my hair with my phone placed against my ear.

At the moment, I was speaking with one of our foreign investors who had just made a call based on the rumors flying around.

Our cosmetics products had been tagged fake by a customer, and now we were facing a public backlash.

“It’s been three weeks already, yet you haven't done a thing.” Mr. Hyde replied.

“Please give me a little more time, I will fix it.” He didn't allow me to coax him further before he hung up on me.

With a frustrated look on my face, I plopped on my chair with a thud, swirling around in a bid to relieve myself of the anger that I felt, but it was to no avail.

Still trying to get a hang of my current predicament, my door caved in, and Alfred, my assistant, walked in, clutching his iPad.

“Sir, the team has rectified the issue.” He said; my eyes lit up, and I grabbed the edge of the table and stood.

“I'm glad to hear that,” I said, my heart bubbling with joy.

“I'm talking about the technical issue.” He muttered, and once again, my mood dampened. It took all I had in me not to yell at him for raising my hopes and then dashing them.

Slowly, I found myself seated back in frustration, “Sir, the stocks are dropping rapidly,” He broke the five-minute silence.

“I know, you don't need to remind me,” I replied, running my hand through my hair.

Suddenly, I rose and then stomped out without a word to Alfred. My next destination was my family home and the moment I arrived, I hurried in.

My father was currently reading through the daily papers when I got in, so I thought it wise to give him a bit of privacy.

While waiting for him to wrap up, Mother arrived and then pulled me aside.

“Your father isn't going to lift his finger to help you. I felt I should tell you that so you wouldn't be disappointed,” She said, wiping the glass she held.

“But… I thought we settled everything.”

“Don't make me laugh!” She huffed, crossing her hands, she continued to further say, “The only way you can settle this is to get Mickey Darwin back to the family.”

Mickey Darwin!

“Mother! That’s impossible,” I yelled, my head suddenly aching.

“The last time I saw her was five years ago and that was in the hospital corridor.”

“You have to go find her, otherwise, you will watch your company crash before you!” She was about to walk past me when she halted and, with her middle finger pointed in my face. “And for Kiara, is she always this useless?”

My response wasn't needed as she brushed past me and then proceeded out of the kitchen, leaving me to stare at her departing figure.

True to his word, Father refused to say a word to me despite my pestering, but I wasn't going to give up.

“You had a conversation with your mother a while ago. She said exactly what I have to say to you.”

“Mickey isn't going to come back to me. We have to forget about her and move on with our lives,” I pressed on, hoping he would see reasons with me.

When he didn't say anything for a while, I kept my hopes high as I awaited his response.

Immediately, he parted his lips to speak; I leaned in, waiting to hear a solution to my crumbling company, only for him to say, “If indeed you are bothered about your company, you should do what is right!”

Fueled with anger, I stomped out of the building, clenching and unclenching my fists in anger.

Ever since Mickey and I got separated, all my privileges as the heir of the family have been taken from me, and I was on the verge of losing my inheritance to a stranger.

Each time I came up with a request, I was refused except I presented Mickey to them.

“I hate you, Mickey. Even in your absence, you are making my life unbearable. I’m going to do the same to you.” I yelled, fist-pumping the air.

Grabbing my head with both hands, I began to slam my head against the steering wheel of my car, not minding the damage I was causing.

Since I wasn't in the right frame of mind, I thought it wise not to return to the office. Instead, I headed straight for home.

I was expecting to meet a serene environment where I could rest my aching head, only to meet Cassie, my five-year-old daughter from Kiara, in the living room crying.

She looked like one of those homeless kids in the remote parts of Africa that was always shown on TV, especially during wars and natural disasters.

“Hey, Cassie! What's wrong?” I crouched next to her as I tossed my briefcase aside.

Wiping her face, I flashed her a smile, “Dad is listening to you.” I coaxed as she began to heave.

“I'm hungry… mom…” She pointed at the closed door. “She left for a party.”

There she goes again!

If it wasn't a party, it would be a girl's hangout, sightseeing, or something else.

She didn't care about me or Cassie.

The money was at her disposal so she could live her dream life of luxury to the fullest.

“Come with me.” Though I was smiling, I was boiling on the inside as I awaited Kiara's return.

By the time I was done with Cassie, it was dusk, and I was exhausted, and at that moment, she was asleep.

Now lying on the couch, I tried to get some sleep when the door flung open and Kiara announced her presence, “Thank goodness you are home.”

She kept walking into the living room and each step she took made it clear that she was drunk as she reeked with alcohol.

“I need more money, the girls are having a beach party by weekend.” She burped, falling to the floor.