Austin Dre woke up to the incessant ringing of his phone, its shrill sound slicing through the remnants of his dreams. He fumbled on the bed, feeling for the device that had invaded his morning peace. His hand finally brushed against it on the lamp stand beside the bed, and he brought it to his ear, answering without bothering to check the caller ID.
"Good morning, is this Mr. Austin Dre?" The voice on the other end was crisp and professional, a stark contrast to his disheveled state.
"Yes, I am Austin Dre," he replied, pushing himself up to sit against the headboard, his thoughts still muddled from sleep.
"That's great, sir. My boss asked me to call you as soon as possible. She is very fond of your expertise and business prowess," the voice continued, imbued with an air of urgency.
"She?" Austin's brow furrowed at the unexpected mention of a woman. "Wants me to work for her?"
"Yes, sir. She is eager to have you join our corporation," the assistant explained, each word dripping with enthusiasm.
A sense of wariness washed over him. "That's very kind of you, but may I know who your boss is?" he asked cautiously, trying to remain calm despite the rising tide of curiosity.
"Well, my boss is the famous Angel Swan, the CEO of the Swan Corporation," the voice said with noticeable pride.
The name struck a chord within him, a bittersweet melody filled with past rivalries and long-buried grudges. Austin hesitated; he knew that name well. Angel Swan—wasn't she the formidable classmate he'd encountered both in high school and college? Memories flooded back: their fierce competition for accolades, the animosity that had brewed over shared spaces, and the fierce clash of ambitions that ripple through their academic years.
His thoughts leapt to Sonya Clay, the other half of the infamous rivalry that had set both their lives ablaze. Austin had witnessed the friction, the fierce exchanges, and the latent tension that had simmered between the two women. From high school disputes to collegiate conflicts over the same man, their relationship had been a neverending battle taking on new life in the corporate world.
Why was Angel Swan, of all people, reaching out to him? He was no longer a part of that business feud. He had walked away—retired from the relentless grind to enjoy the fruits of his labor. The thought of being drawn back into their chaos left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I want no part of it," he stated firmly, his voice reflecting a determination that surprised even him.
"Please, Mister Austin Dre, think about it. My boss only asked me to keep you informed. She wants you to get back everything she took from you—your time, your effort, and even…"
Austin felt a surge of anger, his pulse quickening. "Stop! just stop it! Did I ask you or your mistress for any of this?" he exploded. "Stay away from my life! I don't care about your boss's little ego, and neither do I care about her rivalry. Tell your boss I am not interested. For your information, I am retired. I don't work for anybody; I work for me. Goodbye!" With that, he hung up, the abrupt click echoing in the silence of his room.
"Women, women, women!" he muttered under gritted teeth, his fists clenched in frustration. The phone still felt heavy in his palm. "You think I am that weak? That I need a woman to assist me in revenge? Over who? Her? Sonya
Clay? How absurd! I don't need anyone for it. If I wanted, I could take her down—and even her support, that damned Brii family. What the hell?"
Yet, underneath the anger was a flash of realization. He needed to calm down; keeping his health in check was paramount. After all, he didn't want to put Doctor Moreau in a tight position. For their good, he reasoned.
"Okay, now that's that," he said aloud, forcing himself to shake off the tumultuous thoughts. He walked out of the room, deciding the best way to rid himself of the lingering agitation was to get on with his day.
After a warm shower, the steam wrapped around him like a comforting cocoon. He dressed with care, donning a comfortable shirt and jeans. The day was bright outside, and he could hear the distant sounds of the neighborhood awakening. He ambled downstairs into the dining area, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of home.
"Oh, look who it is?" an old croaky voice called out, instantly warming Austin's heart.
"Oh, grandpa, how was your night?" he asked, a smile spreading across his face.
"Oh, Austin, my grandson, with you here, I can rest in peace," his grandfather joked, a twinkle in his eye.
"Don't say that, grandpa. You have many more years left before you decide to rest," Austin replied, laughter lacing his tone.
"Oh, that's true, Austin, but not before I hold my grandchild from you, son," he pressed, his voice playful yet edged with longing.
"Of course, grandpa, of course," Austin said, though his thoughts shifted to the future, filled with an ache rooted in the uncertainty of his circumstances. Deep down, he grappled with the painful realization that, given the current situation, his chances of becoming a father felt slim.
After breakfast, filled with light banter and the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee, Austin hung around the house until noon, feeling conflicted but resolved. He needed to clear his mind, to shake off the shadows of the morning's confrontation.
"Let's drive to the city," he finally suggested to Lee, his loyal assistant and friend, who had been waiting patiently.
"Where to, boss?" Lee asked, glancing over with a quizzical look.
"The City Museum," Austin replied, the decision rolling off his tongue as though it had always been in the back of his mind.
"Museum?" Lee frowned, unsure. It wasn't the first destination most people would think of for a spontaneous trip, especially considering their plummeting spirits.
"I'm meeting someone," Austin continued, wanting to sound casual while feeling the weight of the unknown tugging at his thoughts.
"Okay, Boss," Lee replied, turning the key in the ignition, the familiar hum of the engine reverberating around them as they set off toward the city.
The car wove through the streets, and Austin watched the scenery change, vibrant flashes of urban life unfolding outside his window. After maneuvering through the bustling roads, they finally pulled up in front of the colossal structure of the Quezon Museum, its architectural grandeur showcased in bold letters engraved across the facade.
After parking, the two stepped out and headed toward the entrance, the air rich with a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. As they walked inside, the world beyond fell away, replaced by the hushed whispers of patrons and the reverberating echoes of footsteps against the polished floors.
Austin felt a sense of peace wash over him as he looked around, admiring the curated displays that told stories of history, art, and culture. The vibrant colors of the exhibits entranced him, and as they wandered, he allowed himself to escape into the tales told by a world he had long distanced himself from. Here, surrounded by artifacts and memories of yesteryears, Austin felt a tinge of hope stirring within him, the promise of new beginnings and perhaps a renewed sense of purpose bubbling quietly beneath the surface...