It finally was the day.
Cars cruised to the front of a tall, opulent golden glass-built structure. It towers if not as high as the Holland Penthouse, maybe because both were owned by the same person. This was the world-renowned Holland Corporations.
Black limos, Range Rovers in different builds, and even multi-million cybertrucks pulled over before the Holland Corporations, and they stepped out over the red carpet… They, the filthily rich shareholders. Reporters rushed at them like an army of ants, asking questions about what was happening today and sorts. The internet itself buzzed with the headline "Mr Holland taking over the empire".
Moments later, a red Lincoln Continental revved over to breathe out the red-suited Kieran Holland who walked over the carpet with his P.A. dressed in a similar attire. Cameras clicked one after the other, but he paid no one heed as usual… His bodyguards knew their assignment.
Minutes later.
A set of ladies pushed the golden Palmer door and Kieran walked into the conference room. The distinguished men and women inside looked his way, but Kieran didn't waver. Social anxiety was the first man he ever killed.
More cameras clicked as he walked up to the forefront, where his seat was. The best spot is always for the influential ones, they say.
Kieran settled in his seat – no one spoke, not yet.
Amanda stood by his side, hands clasped afront. She bowed at the shareholders, "Good morning everyone. I am Amanda Williams, Mr Holland's personal assistant. Though everyone here knows about him already, I will do a little more briefing…" She gestured towards Kieran, which was when both shared knowing glances.
Amanda then took a moment to turn at the wall behind her, snapping her fingers in the process. The wall lit up the next second, illustrating medals placed on a pristine white surface. Then a picture of the battered Kieran landing an upper cut on a man in the boxing ring.
Some of the shareholders shared surprised glances, but one was unwavered. The grey-bearded man seating very close to Kieran, clean glowing skin… No wrinkles, and a black suit that seemed as though it were glowing.
Kieran peered at him by the side of his eyes. That was Mr Alan Martinez, no?
Amanda continued, "He has won many medals as a ThunderFist apprentice in the Skybridge City. Known for his deadly punches and just everything else." She was adding salt to the soup, and Kieran was liking it. "Since things like this aren't enough to prove Mr Holland as the rightful successor of the empire, let's look forward to the votes too. Thank you."
Then she bowed. Alan peered at Kieran as well – this young man hadn't even said anything, yet his P.A. was giving out the sugars.
'Exciting.'
Soon, the wall changed interfaces and displayed two rectangular shaped screens. One was green – agree – while the other was red. Disagree.
But before that, a brown-suited man seated adjacent to Alan Martinez said to Kieran, leaving the room in still silence, "It's a nice chance seeing you today, Mr Holland."
Kieran looked at him in a moment. This man was grinning, yet he wasn't. Kieran had lived with a similar person that always carries a grin with him like his other self… So by now, he could tell between a genuine smile and the latter.
"Why don't you show us something more impressive?" the brown-suited man asked, the hypocritic grin never leaving his face. "Something… that sets you apart from hooligans who throw punches around street. You know, we're businessmen who want profits. And we're not going to allow someone not capable enough to run everything for – "
"Well…" Kieran cut in, his tone gentle and soft, "… am I supposed to seek your permission to take over what's rightfully mine?" He shifted in his seat, raising his brows as he stared at the man.
The man tilted his head with a tight chuckle, "What?"
Everyone paid attention to Kieran thereafter. This breaking of habit was so sudden and unexpected. Even Martinez smiled, getting interested.
Kieran let the word sink in for some seconds before saying, "It's funny you all are here to make a decision over my own property. Tell me…" he looked all of them in the eyes, "… what other than profit do you lots care about?"
The brown-suited man cleared his throat…
Kieran rose from his seat, pacing behind the others' while moving his hand over their chair shoulders.
"Every single one of you, men and women, young and old… have done sorts of things to get to where you are today," Kieran pronounced, his tone bold and unwavering. "Money. That's all you wanted and still… want."
Reaching Mrs Ava's side, he stopped, and leaned so close his chin almost touched her exposed shoulder. Amanda smiled slightly in the distance – they were right all along to have chosen this guy. A word is surely enough for the wise.
"… And trust me, that's what I am after as well," Kieran declared, almost whispering to Miss Ava alone. The woman's neck was stiff, but she had a smile. Kieran continued pacing. "I have studied each and everyone of you guys overnight. Your tastes, your common goals, and scandals too, for some. Some are ugly to the core, but I don't care about personality. Just a spark to want money is enough…"
A spectacled middle-aged man at the end of the left row voiced out. "You're right in a sense, Mr Holland. But, doing this only raises the chance people might end up voting against you – "
Kieran looked at him for a few seconds, chuckled and stared. The room grew more still.
"Vote against?" Kieran imagined, smirking. Then he paced on. "Listen to me, everyone. Actually, maybe it's high time I let you know this…"
He looked all over the room…
"Go ahead and vote. But trust me, if you vote against, you're out of the empire…"
Murmurs rose among the shareholders immediately. Some shouted "Mr Holland, you can't do that", "you're bringing the empire down if we withdraw our shares"… Cameras clicked from the reporters.
Kieran declared, "Vote against, leave the empire and I'll gladly buy your shares… Then find beggars around the street who will stay loyal to me forever, and hand over your shares to them for free.
The murmurs were still up, though they had died down a little.
"What the hell are you yapping about?" Kieran scoffed, chuckling. "The empire worths two trillion dollars, and I fucking have that in fifty folds. Do you think your petty shares are that important? Absurd."
His words sank in, bringing men holding their heads down, gritting their teeth and groaning… while one watched in admiration, smiling.
One question.
If Kieran could pull such a card here, then why waste so much to get the ten majority shareholders on his side?
Only a naïve person thinks he actually wasted his money. A suitcase with a few dollar notes on top while stacks of paper lay beneath, a fabricated contract file, empty promises… He hadn't only faked everything for those shareholders, but showed them they're nothing to worry about for a trillionaire.
Even Amanda knew nothing about this. Kieran had lived so long without trusting anyone, and even trusting here was absolute foolishness.