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“If only he’d understand that,” I muttered.
“Mom built this company,” said Noah. “We can’t let another stranger take hold of it. We should be the ones to keep it going. No one else will care for it as much as we do.”
“You say ‘we’ but you mean ‘you’,” I muttered.
“Please, Corey,” Noah said in an urging tone. “Help me. I must be the one to win the nomination. We can’t let this stranger take away what’s ours.”
His words sounded strangely familiar.
Cold washed over me as past memories rose in my mind like déjà vu.
Noah said the same thing before Milla and her mom came to live in the house. Back then, he’d thought Eva was marrying our dad for his money and position. He didn’t let us believe for a second that their marriage could’ve been the outcome of a loving relationship.
Caleb and I joined our brother in doing terrible things to make sure “what was ours, stayed ours”. We broke the girl we fell in love with and an innocent woman died without seeing her only daughter.
Noah’s obsession for control was the reason Milla was lost to us forever.
Five years passed since we last saw her sweet face but my guilt didn’t lessen one bit.
Milla disappeared since the day Eva died. We didn’t even know if she was alive. I should’ve forgotten about her but her absence only reminded me of her every moment.
Was she doing well? Did she have friends around her? Was she safe? Was she even alive? These questions hadn’t stopped plaguing me.
“What do you think, Corey?” said Noah, looking at me closely. “Will you side with me?”
“No.”
Noah’s hopeful expression froze on his face.
Taking my phone out, I ran a quick google search on Azalea Amhurst. Several articles, all lauding her entrepreneurial skills, immediately came up. It looked she’d even won some business awards in LA.
“Azalea sounds like a good deal,” I said, scrolling through the search results. “She could definitely do a better job than you.”
“There’s no photograph of her anywhere,” said Caleb from the other end of the couch. “How did she win these awards and not get her picture taken?”
“There’s no photograph in the employee database either,” said Noah in a grim tone.
“Mysterious and competent,” I said, looking up from my phone. “I think she’ll win my vote.”
“Corey!” Noah shouted. “Will you stop going against me on this? I try to be patient with you but you never give me a chance.”
“I’m not against you,” I said. “I just want to make sure my vote goes toward the person who’ll do a good job at managing Amhurst Co. After all, Mom and Dad built it together. We owe it to them to make sure it’s in the right hands.”
“Who else can do a better job?” Noah urged. “No one will love Amhurst Co. more than me.”
“That’s the problem,” I replied. “You don’t know how to love.”
Noah’s gray eyes turned colder. Turning away from me, he tried to get Caleb on his side. “What about you? Please, tell me I’ll have your support.”
Caleb seemed to consider his words. “You’re not always wise with your decisions,” he said slowly. “You’re heavily opinionated and never see a different option even when it’s more viable than your idea. I don’t question your loyalty, No. It’s just that I want the best person for the job of CEO.”
The three of us fell silent for a while.
I read through some of the articles on Azalea Amhurst.
She was a young entrepreneur. Amhurst Co. invested in her idea of developing and producing microchips at a manufacturing cost that was lower than the market prices set by Asian firms.
The lower price allowed for cheaper end products and put an end to the dependence on Asian firms for manufacturing electronic products. Her business model was based on hard-core research and providing the best at the lowest cost.
