I was too unkempt and ragged for Saint Don’s liking. First we had a grand tour of his State of the Art’s villa which had its surfaces and fittings made of gold and diamond. His villa was more than classic that I lacked words in its exactitude to describe the splendor.
We were at the garage and I was overwhelmed by the fleets of Rolls Royce Phantom, Armored Bentley Ferrari, Lamborghini, Austin Martin, private jets all in their innumerable amount. He had an ocean of luxury cars that I wondered if he was into automobiles business.
He pointed across them and added, “They are all yours, my son.”
I pinched myself in surprise as I gave an appreciative nod, and smiled hugely. Saint Don had over five hundred domestic staff and a thousand close staff that domiciled in the villa. His State of the Arts villa had everything that could take one outside to get. He had medicals; temples; grocery mall; gaming; boutique; barbers shop and security unit mounted at the villa.
I sat down honorably while the servants shaved my scraggly long unkempt hair, did my pedicure and manicure before an iconic Italian tuxedo and sleeves were worn over me and oxfords shoe grazed was laced on my feet by another servant. Another servant brought a box of diamond wrist watch and necklace which he used to decorate me.
When I beheld myself in the mirror, I saw a ‘reborn’ Brian Patrick.
Hundreds of servants were at my disposal and all of whom bowed down to me whenever they beheld my sight.
I clicked my finger and innumerable servants ran to my side and bowed at my feet.
“Boss, what would you have us do?” the servant asked still bowed.
I smiled hugely as another servant poured me a fluteful of wine. “I want you to put a call across all the domestic staff. I want to have a word with them,” I commanded.
“As my boss, pleases ,” the servants said, disappeared like a bat out of hell.
Outside I could hear the chattering of voices like innumerable bees and when I looked out through the window I could see my father being flanked by his aides and security as the host of avid journalist interviewed him.
“The world richest man,” one of the journalists eulogized Saint Don, “You said you have something to tell the world,”
Saint Don gave a firm nod.
“Okay, boss what could that be? The whole world awaits your speech,” another journalist intoned, pushing forth the recorder to his mouth.
“Today I am a fulfilled man. My mouth is speechless. My heart is flushed with ocean of excitement. I am proudly dumbfounded to tell the whole world that today I can boast of a true heir to my multitrillion dollars conglomerate. My heir, Mike Don who was thought to be dead is alive and hearty,” Saint Don said, giving a toothy smile.
“Wow! That is good news, trillionaire. The whole world could attest to your joy through the smiles that becloud your face. So what is the way forward for you and your multi-trillion empire now you have found your true heir?
Saint Don smiled hugely and briefly narrowed his eyes as he gave a nod, “Initially I was deterred to retire and stay as a loner without a true heir, yes but today I have found my true heir in the person of Mike Don, he shall take over the affairs of business across my chains of oil and gas conglomerate. I would indulge my staff all over the world to follow his lead as I won’t be active in service with immediate effect. Hence forth you can call him the world richest man.”
“Oh so fortunate of him but sir can we have a session with the world richest man?” one of the journalist inquired.
“I don’t think, he is available now…” he sounded
I interrupted with the knocking of my shoes on the floor as I stepped out, “I am available, father,” I gave a warm smile at him and added, “Let me give a word or two to the world.”
Quickly as flies making towards oozing sores the band of journalist hastened to my side.
“Good morning the world richest man! Good morning, boss!
They greeted me irregularly pushing forth countless recorders to my mouth.
“What do you have to say about your current status, as the world richest man?” one of them asked cheerfully.
I blinked emotionally and fought back the tears that almost surged down my eyes…
“I was once a ragged, unkempt underrated, poor, delivery boy, but today I am the world richest man. I am back to champion the affairs of the multi trillion dollars Saint Don Group. As the true heir to the Saint Don Group, I encourage everyone to expect radical growth. My supremacy has come to stay. Thank you.”
I walked away and wouldn’t want to say much.
“But boss! Boss! Boss!” they called about to scuttle to me, my security stood on their way and stopped them.
***
Minutes dragged by , I was still in the whirl blue pool and cooling off in the sun amidst hour-glass, pretty models in bikini, when a Lamborghini screeched into the compound raising a haze of dust as he gave a hissing halt.
It was Zion Don
When the security hastened to his Lamborghini to open the door for him, he beamed, “Go to hell!” he shunned them, pushed them out of his way and paced to the sitting room to meet with my father.
I could perceive the pain in his eyes and the boiling of his blood within his bones.
“Father! Father! Father!”
I could hear him call furiously. His voice rang out as the thundering in the spring.
“What is it I am hearing about some ragged delivery boy being your true heir?” he asked Saint Don at the tops of his voice.
This was the moment I was waiting for…