Chapter 32 The press conference
On the other side, Roger was confused, about to ask who it was, but the monitoring device on his phone already located her. Karen Fletcher.
Without hesitation, he transferred five billion dollars before dialing the number. It was answered on the first ring. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you."
Hastening out of the shop with the dress he purchased, Tonia ran after him.
“Wait, was that my sister?” She asked, her face pale, but Roger gave her no response or attention and hurried to the car park.
“Dad, please hold off on the press conference,” he was saying before noticing the car was empty. The engine was on, but there was no one in it.
His fingers balled as he faintly guessed that his father must be on his way to Karen. His teeth gritted together. This time, he couldn’t let Karen escape him again. Roger had to act fast.
Taking the driver's seat, he stepped on the accelerator, allowing the tracker to lead him to her.
When he realized that all along, Karen had not been far, but closer than imagined, he tasted bile in his mouth.
No wonder he couldn’t find her, and the house was also a confirmation that his father was the one driving the Maybach that day.
This place belonged to his mom, but neither he nor any of his siblings came here, deeming it as respecting their mother’s privacy, but his father brought Karen here.
Despite knocking five times, no one opened the door. Roger forced it open and entered, finding warm coffee on the table and a magazine, but no one in sight.
“Kitten, where are you?” He called out as he entered the first room, which turned out to be a bedroom. He saw her flip flops and eyeglasses but nothing else.
Roger searched everywhere, finding clues that Karen had been there but had already left.
His phone beeped with an alert. The money had been transferred back to him with a message. ‘Sorry, wrong number.’
Quickly, he dialed the number again, but it was out of coverage area. Transfers had been made, but the final documents were supposed to be signed at the press conference.
Therefore, Roger still could not exercise control over the territories he was meant to rule.
He leaned against the wall, his eyes moist as a tear slid down his cheek, sorrow overwhelming him. She had escaped again, and most probably, she was sending the message to someone who wasn’t Roger. Was it his father?
How was she so comfortable asking his father for money but returning his?
Picking up her eyeglasses and flip flops, he returned to his mansion to add them to the collection he had prepared for her, including the dress he had purchased before driving back to his parents’ mansion.
Roger felt deflated upon reaching home, and his mood was soiled. His soul and heart had turned to ice. His father did not return that day, and he was certain that the middle-aged man was avoiding him, especially when he refused to answer his calls.
Roger couldn’t sleep, and it was already the wee hours of the morning. Everywhere was quiet, but the next day, he dressed in a black suit, ready for the press conference.
Once given the authority, he would be able to use his resources to find his wife.
The media representatives were present and had already set up when Roger arrived. The board members and respective executives were all there except his father.
Roger wondered if the middle-aged man would make it, only lowering himself to one of the chairs when one of the board members asked him, “Your father isn’t here. Where is he?”
There was no way Roger would let the world know about the cold war between him and his father. However, a minute before the press conference, Giovanni Dawson arrived, clad in a black suit that matched Roger's.
The father and son looked like brothers, not facially but in mannerisms. Giovanni Dawson didn’t look his age, and Roger had matured and was very respectable.
However, his bitterness took a toll on him in a way that prevented him from warming up to anyone. The iciness emanating from him could freeze every gadget around.
The reporter nervously asked Giovanni, “Can we start now?”
Giovanni nodded, giving her the go-ahead. “For today’s breaking news, we are reporting live from the conference room of the Dawsons Group, and here we have the CEO, Don Giovanni Dawson, some board members, executives, and someone the world has not heard about in decades. Without much ado, I would hand over for Don to give you the news himself.”
Giovanni gracefully spoke into the speaker in front of the camera.
“You are all aware that fifteen years ago, I announced RD Group as a subsidiary of the Dawsons group. Today, the CEO of RD Group has decided to step into the limelight after working in the shadows for close to two decades,” he announced, leaving the media and everyone present stunned.
Some of them had seen Roger work as Roger Douglas in the lower ranks of most of the branches but his dressing alone set him apart from that boy who used to perform the lowest tasks there was.
“Everyone, help me welcome my first son, whom some of you have met as Roger Douglas. Well, his real name is Roger Dawson, and he is the CEO of RD Group.”
Hands joined together in applause as the camera moved to the cold man sitting opposite Giovanni Dawson.
No family members were present because Giovanni enjoyed the peace of keeping the identity of his children hidden.
“Roger Dawson founded the RD Group when he was just eleven,” he added, stunning everyone present. They began to look at Roger strangely.
During the first announcement, everyone thought Giovanni was merely separating the companies for the purpose of inheritance, but this addition was nerve cracking.
“You mean he founded the company?" The reporter asked in shock, her gaze fixed on Roger.
Giovanni's lips thinned, a real smile stretching across his face. "Roger has always been a smart kid," he said. "He would propose a challenge and always come out on top. One time, when he was around six years old, he insisted that I teach him how to make his own money. I told him that if he could skip four classes, I would teach him."
Everyone hung on his every word, eager for him to continue. "Well, he didn't just graduate from college at thirteen like he promised, but at eleven. So, I had to give him a new identity to work in his own companies. The managers will know the rest."
Around the companies, some managers were sweating bullets. They knew what was coming because of the things they had done.