Steve marks drove me to a towering sky scraper which had around it hundreds of well-suited Caucasian cute-looking men most of whom were on sunshades. I perceived they were security men. As soon as Steve Marks came to a screeching halt a few of the men paced down to the Ferrari opened the door for me and bowed unison.
“You are highly welcome boss,” they echoed at Steve and I and I glared around the serene premises which had fleets of Lamborghini Ferrari Rolls Royce phantom and Cadillac and a private jet elegantly scattered all over the place.
This was my perfect description of wealth; how could a man so rich be bowing to me. There must be a miss up somewhere. May be this billionaire was mistaking for someone else; yes. It could be that he thought I was some Croesus or heir to one.
“You are welcome to the Steve Group, boss,” he echoed smiled at me and I gave him the cold shoulders because I was lost and overwhelmed by the splendor of the environment; it had a water fall and an ocean view with white hour glass ladies in hot bikinis who were chosen to always swim in it.
At the other end some other party of security were having handy, rugged looking mastiff; all these party of security bowed at us upon seeing us. And then the next thing that sounded from them was, “You are warmly welcome boss.”
They bowed in my direction
I swallowed hard and stole a glance at Steve Marks whose face was lit with anxiety and uncertainty. I was still yet to believe what was playing at me. This whole thing seemed like a mirage and my conscience keep clacking doubt in me.
“But I am Brian Patrick,” I said in my head, “Have I been a Croesus all this while without knowing? Or was this man outsmarting me just to avert my mind from committing suicide? What was he up to and who the hell was I?
With the curiosity that paraded in my head, I couldn’t wait to hear the latter version of Steve ‘s revelation about me. I was having itchy ears already and I would want to see the end of this drama.
The glass door automatically yanked open upon sensing us and we got on the elevator and ascended the towering sky scraper.
He had a huge smile while I only forced a smile; I was still unhappy yet curious; was I his son or what? Who was I?
While ascending the elevator he sounded, “I am the chairman of the Steve Group, an oil and gas empire worth thirty billion dollars but I tell you, I am not worthy to stand in your presence and today that I stand before you; even right now it is the best achievement of my life,” Steve Marks chuckled, all smiles probably expecting me to let out a toothy smile just like him.
But I kept at my frown and couldn’t stop staring at my ragged looks and dabbing the edges of my worn out shirt at least reminding him that this fellow he was seeing had been to the valley of life and didn’t have an idea about what tomorrow held.
The elevator beeped yanked open automatically and we stepped out on the glass floor which flashed ragged reflection of me. Naturally I didn’t fit in; even as Steve Marks pranced in front, ahead of me it looked as if I was his shoes shine boy.
But this billionaire for the past thirty minutes had hounded me and left me daunted with mind-blowing revelation that made me regret attempting a suicide.
Another glass door yanked open automatically as we neared it. A spacious State of the Art exquisite office with classic, polished furniture, opened at us.
“Wow!” I said in my head.
Steve Marks offered me a seat and said afterwards, “Apologies for the stress thus far, boss,” he intoned.
I could hear glass clicking and it was that he was pouring drinks for two. With his head bowed and on his knees he gave me a glass.
I barked when it irritated me so much, “What is all this? Why am I here? Speak, else I will leave this minute!” I could see a chinless grin come upon his face.
Steve marks bowed before me and added, “Pardon me boss you have every right to be upset. What I am about to tell you is a shocker,” he said and dimmed his eyes thoughtfully before saying , “Thirty years ago I was the personal driver to the world richest man Saint Don. He had a pretty wife by name Anne Don and a son by name Mike Don.”
I paid rapt attention and shook my head in concurrence.
Steve Marks continued after a sip at his wine, “One day Saint Don left for one of his business trips in Beijing and upon his return he demanded that I drive his wife and son to the airport to welcome him. On our way we had an accident which set our car on fire after somersaulting twenty times. I saw myself lying helplessly in the bush with little bruises but his wife and son were stuck in the burning car. The fire fighters had come too late. They burnt to ashes; Saint Don hated me for the accident which he believed I was responsible for. He sent me to jail for killing his wife and only son, the heir to his multi trillion dollars conglomerate…”
Steve’s voice snapped as though he wanted to break down in tears; actually he did.
I stood staring at him weep briefly and wipe his tears before he continued, “When I left jail I worked hard to be the billionaire I am today. Later investigators of the car accident told me something mind-blowing. Mike Don was alive. He wasn’t in the burning car which burnt his mother to ashes.”
Our gaze met when Steve Marks turned around and said, “You are not Brian Patrick. You are that Mike Don…”