Page 109 of A Win-Win Situation
"Of course, please come in and sit down," my uncle intervenes, attempting to diffuse the mounting tension.
I watch as he takes a seat. There’s a subtle shift in his posture and a guarded look in his eyes. He’s hiding something.
He directs his attention at me. "Let’s cut to the chase. I don’t think you’re cut out to take over the hotels."
"I’m already aware of your opinion, Michel. But you’re wrong, I’m more than capable of running this company."
"Michel, this is neither the time nor the place for such discussions," my uncle replies, his voice measured and firm.
But Michel doesn't seem inclined to back down. He leans forward, his eyes locking onto mine for a moment, and then he addresses my uncle directly. "I, on the other hand, have a good head for business. Just step down, appoint me as the new CEO, and we won't have to vote. I promise I’ll keep Lucas and Liam in their current positions."
My uncle exchanges a glance with me, and we both know that Michel's proposition is far from genuine. Trusting him with the position would be a grave mistake, one that could jeopardize everything we've worked for.
"I appreciate your confidence in your abilities, Michel," my uncle says, maintaining his composed demeanor. "But the decision has already been made on my end, and I stick by it."
Michel's smirk turns into a snarl, his voice dripping with menace. "You have no idea what's at stake here. You will see this empire you're so proud of slip through your fingers. The vote will be just the beginning, and you'll be left with nothing."
I clench my fists, struggling to contain my anger. My uncle, however, remains remarkably composed.
"Michel, threats won't get you what you want. We'll face the vote, and the stakeholders will decide. But mark my words, as long as I’m alive, I’ll never hand this company over to you."
Michel's tone takes on a more threatening and aggressive edge, his desperation to seize control of the company palpable. "Be careful, Antoine. We all know your time is ticking," he hisses, leaning even closer, his voice a venomous whisper. "I also know things that you and your dear nephew might not want people to know about. "
Anger bubbles up inside me as Michel's threats become more intense. My patience wears thin, and I'm ready to take action.
"That’s enough," I declare firmly, my voice trembling with restrained anger. "Leave my office, now."
My uncle doesn't say a word, but his stern expression mirrors my sentiments. Does Michel know about Leora and my agreement?
A cold shiver runs down my spine as his words hang in the air. Michel has always been willing to go to great lengths to achieve his goals, but it’s taken a sinister turn.
Michel stands up, a small, taunting smirk on his face. "I think I’ll repaint this office and make it more to my taste."
Liam steps forward. He's taller and broader than Michel, and his imposing presence makes Michel take a step back, a flicker of fear crossing his face. Liam's message is clear—Michel should think twice before taking any drastic actions.
Once Michel is out of the office, my uncle slumps into his chair, an air of weariness about him. Concern laces my voice as I ask, "Are you okay?"
My uncle attempts to reassure me, but his words are cut short by a sudden fit of coughing. When he removes his hand from his mouth, it's stained with blood.
"I'm fine," he insists, trying to downplay the severity of the situation.
Liam, however, is less composed. Panic flashes across his face, and he interjects urgently, "We need to get you to the hospital. This isn't something to take lightly."
Despite his concern, my uncle rises from his chair. "I told you, I'm fine. Now let me be," he repeats firmly, his voice carrying a sense of stubborn determination. He begins to walk toward the exit, where he almost bumps into Leora, who has returned with coffee and desserts, a look of confusion on her face.
As my uncle walks past her, Liam calls after him, his voice tinged with concern and urgency, "Ammo, please, let us get you checked out. This is serious."
Leora's eyes widen in alarm as she listens to our exchange, and she sets down the tray.
My uncle raises his hand, signaling that he's not willing to entertain the idea of seeking medical attention. Liam and I exchange worried glances, but there's little we can do when our uncle is so insistent. We watch as he continues toward the exit, his steps steady but his face slightly pale.
Leora approaches us cautiously, her gaze fixed on my uncle's departing figure. "What happened?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern. We tell her everything, including my suspicions that Michel knows . . . everything.
As soon aswe step foot in the elevator, Leora’s anxiety skyrockets, as it always does. For someone so afraid, she has to be one of the most courageous people I know. To fight fear the way she does is remarkable. No matter what the fear is, conquering it takes strength and determination—two qualities Leora possesses.
However, sometimes a person needs a little push, and that’s what I’m here for.
I don't try to start a conversation to take her mind off the moving elevator, like I usually do. I’ve attempted that a few times, and I think it’s been working. But right now, I have another idea that I hope will help her associate better memories with elevator rides. It will also help me relax after the shit day we’ve had.
