CHAPTER 2

One panel of the heavy wooden doors pushed opened quietly from the other side and a middle age woman with her dark hair tied up neatly into a bun enter, holding her Ipad and two folders. She pushed her glasses to the top of her nose as she approached the elegant wooden design executive desk, situated in the center of the office with large windows behind, with the view of the city skyline, now showing its violet hues, signifying the early signs of the evening on a Thursday.

The swivel chair turned soundlessly as her footsteps approached.

“Mrs. Cameron is the single, largest shareholder of Cameron Elite Holdings at 51% as well as Cameron Towers,” Joana Rollins reported patiently, placing the two folders down and occupying one chair in front. “The rest of the family in total had 30% of the share. Cameron Capital went equally to the two children.”

Damian Aidan McLaren only remained silent as he opened one folder that contained the report that she had printed for him. He read through the pages and then closed it, reaching for the second folder.

The second folder contained articles from different international tabloids.

“THE BLACK WIDOW GAINS CONTROL OF CAMERON’S VAST FORTUNE.”

“STRINGS OF LOVERS CLAIMED RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE BLACK WIDOW.”

“NOTORIOUS BLACK WIDOW SPINNING HER WEB ON SENATOR WHITEHALL.”

His lips formed into a snarl as he read some of the titles and scanned through the articles.

“Shall I set a meeting next month?” Joana questioned after a few minutes.

“No,” Damian answered calmly. “We will see first how the new CEO will handle the matter. With all the negative criticisms she will be encountering, let’s see how long ‘til she breaks.”

“Will call our contact overseas to monitor and to update monthly,” Joana concluded.

“When Frederick arrives, tell him to see me immediately,” Damian instructed when his secretary stood up. He then stood up, buttoning his coat and walked towards the large windows. “Hold all calls for me. I don’t want to be disturb.”

“Yes, Mr. McLaren.”

His phone suddenly rang and he went back to his desk to retrieve it. He saw Vittoria Montcroix, his current lover calling.

“Joana had reservations for us at le Jardin at seven,” he then stated after the greeting. “I will meet you there. I still have some instructions to give to Frederick and he’s still out on an errand.”

“I’ll see you there, cheri,” Vittoria answered sweetly. “Shall I order in advance our favorite wine?”

“Yes. Tell Giovanni that I will have my usual order,” he replied patiently. “I will see you in a bit. I will have Joana informed you when I’m on my way.”

He then ended the call.

Damian then stared at the city skyline, in deep thought already forgetting his conversation with Vittoria. His mind immediately wandered towards the young, widow of Maxwell Cameron but his thoughts stayed longer on the older man. Thinking of the old man, made Damian feel disgust over the course of the years.

Never in my wildest thoughts that you would stoop so low and get involved with a woman old enough to be your granddaughter, Maxwell! Damian thought darkly. He gripped his fists angrily at that thought. You lose all the respect that I had for you over the years. It’s a good thing I followed your advice when you pushed me to finally carved my own path. That’s only probably the one I’ll be thanking for now.

When Damian received news on Maxwell Cameron’s death, he was vacationing in Africa with his mother, sister and extended family. Mrs. McLaren told him that she wouldn’t mind if he needs to travel overseas to pay his last respects, but he only replied that he will go once their trip is over.

“A man whose respect I highly gave and then become worse makes me lose all the respect I have for him,” he remembered saying that statement to his sister when she told him that their mother was disappointed over his reaction to the death. “I will pay my respect in my own time.”

Damian did. He flew two weeks after the burial and went to the cemetery. When he arrived at the place, one of his bodyguards then reported to him that the young widow just arrived at the gravestone of her husband, visiting him on her own. Her only companion was a German Shepherd that stood beside her, docile.

“We will wait until she leaves,” he instructed and then told his driver to park at another side of the cemetery where he will still have a good view of the widow. He then noted two black cars that are not far from her. “Make sure those two black cars won’t get suspicious of us.”

His eyes bore on the figure of the woman, who placed a vase of white roses at the bottom of the marbled cross. She laid out a small blanket and sat down, then started talking to her husband’s gravestone. Her dog lay beside her.

“A devoted wife you have, Maxwell,” Damian muttered sarcastically. “Let’s see how long that will last until she lands her sight on another man just like you.”

When Mrs. Cameron finally left after over an hour, Damian finally approached the gravestone and looked down at the name silently. His bodyguards placed the basket of flowers he brought with him and then stayed out of earshot from him.

“It’s been a while, ol’ friend,” Damian said patiently. “How long has it been since we saw and talked with each other? Quite long since you’ve been kept pretty busy these past few years.”

Maxwell Cameron.

His good friend.

His mentor.

Damian was his protégé.

“You called for me, sir?”

Turning at the sound of his voice, Damian returned to his desk and waited until Frederick Johnson, his other secretary occupied one chair. Taking his own seat, Damian reached for the folder that contains the articles about Cameron’s young widow.

“Hire our trusted PI to gather all details about Samantha Kingsley-Cameron,” Damian finally instructed, pushing the folder towards him. “I want to know all of her life events since the day she was born. Check all background of her family, the friends she has as well as any men linked to her.”

“I want the PI to study every detail about her, her daily schedules and routine,” he continued as Frederick took notes. “Even when she gets sick, I want to know. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, Mr. McLaren,” Frederick replied and stood up. “I’ll get on with this right away and have the initial report on your desk tomorrow morning.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed when his office door close again.

His phone sounded a few minutes after, notifying him of his dinner schedule with Vittoria.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Mrs. Samantha Cameron,” he muttered as he finally stood up, pocketing his phone. “I will make sure that you won’t know what’s coming for you when I will finally decide to step into your life and turn it upside down.”

“I am no man to mess with.”