Chapter 3: Chapter 3

He looked away from her and resumed wearing his leather shoes. He had had enough of her bullshit. It exhausted him, all the lies and deceits. Whatever she thought she could gain from trying to woo him again, she had failed. He was done being her toy.

"Shut the door on your way out." He walked away, stopping to look at her one last time.

He almost smirked in satisfaction at the pathetic look of rejection on her face. It suited her well.

Jacob wanted to leave, but then he turned back again, raising a finger. "One more thing. This was a mistake. A big mistake that would never repeat itself."

He steered on his heels and walked out of the room and his apartment before she could try any of her tricks. He always expected the worst from Nicole.

•••

The tall gates rolled open at the sound of his blaring horn and the mansion that raised him came into view. It stood prim and handsome under daylight.

His Nissan model made a curve round the glorious water fountain at the centre and parked right beside the entrance. There were four large squares that made up his home, shaped like a horseshoe within the premises. He descended from his car and trailed through a cobblestone pathway. It came to a stop at the base of a short stair rising to a pillared porch.

Right above the steps, a new-looking housekeeper bowed to greet him on the porch, stuttering on a fine line between attending to her duties and being shocked by his presence.

It didn't catch him unawares. He had that effect on people.

A ready blanket of warmth enveloped him as he walked in through the main door. Wooden floorboards with zigzag patterns complemented the egg white walls and spacious surrounding.

He was here. Home.

When he entered, a surprised expression crossed another housekeeper's face at once. This one, he had known her since he was a boy. Joy crinkled her eyes. They glazed up, and it had evoked a tender feeling in him—a feeling that only being in the presence of family could spur.

"Where's my father?"

"Mr. Mackay is on the patio, sir," said the dazed woman.

She stared at him like he was an apparition.

"When my brother is ready for school, let me know. I'll take him myself today."

He had a lot of catching up to do. The days of face-timing with the kid were over.

"Yes, sir," she said, and he resumed his steps.

Jacob walked past the wide living area, glimpsing the well-furnished kitchen and the lengthy spiral-shaped staircase that led to a whole new section of his childhood home on his way.

The weather was too chilly to be outdoors this early, but Jameson Mackay could defy anything he pleased.

Crossing the back entrance, Jacob rearranged his suit and tie. He was nervous.

He sighted the tough frame of his father.

Jameson sat on one of the patio sofas. A cigar hung from his lips and the small table beside him held an ashtray. He didn't seem to have aged a day after all these years. Jacob felt he looked half his actual age.

Jameson had buried his nose in the pages of a newspaper, oblivious to his presence.

The soles of Jacob's dress shoes created a soft squishy rhythm on the moist ryegrass lawn. There were trees over and about, casting a shade on the patio that made it impossible to sunbathe when the hours came. As he moved closer, Jacob took in his father's grey long hair. It was a clear contrast to his youthful build.

He always saw himself as the younger version of Jameson; wide shoulders, sharp jaws, thick brows. The only difference was that his father's eyes were black.

Jameson raised his gaze now and sighted Jacob. The powerful stare he cast his way held a glint of pride in it.

Jacob could barely swallow.

"Father, I've returned."

Rising to his feet, Jameson's intimidating frame made Jacob shrink. He gripped his son's shoulder, grinning. His cold eyes accessed all of him.

Jacob could see big plans swirling deep inside his father's eyes. He imagined the man had thought about this moment for a long time.

Strong hands shook him again. "My boy, Singapore must have treated you well. Look at you. I would miss the beards, though."

The gallops of their hearty laughs ran through the space and eased him up. Nostalgia gripped his heart.

"I'll miss them even more." He laughed again, and Jameson gestured towards a sofa. "Have a seat."

Jacob obeyed.

His father took a long drag from his pipe and filled the air with two plumes of smoke before passing the pipe to his son.

He took it.

"Nothing's changed. It still feels the same, like I never left," Jacob said, his gaze scrutinizing the surroundings.

"Are you sure? I even did some repainting for your homecoming. Cost me millions." Jameson dropped the newspaper on the table and the sight of the staff resting by his side came into view.

Jacob couldn't take his eyes off it at first. The thought that the symptoms had resurfaced again worried him. Jameson had survived cancer and other health issues in the past, but the arthritis issue had become a tough nut to crack.

He sobered from his thoughts and put a hand to his chest in mock empathy. Jacob answered his father's bluff in kind.

"I'm guessing your credit card suffered a lot?"

Jameson's responding chuckle was loud, too loud. "Want to compare finances now, hotshot?"

Jacob gave a lopsided grin. "Oh, but I can't wait to rub it."

"I could fire you for that, you know?"

"Please, let me not stop you."

Jacob fought the laugh, but he gave in after a long draw.

A cryptic smile later settled on his face. He couldn't tell why his train of thoughts shot back to his father's new wife at that moment. Jacob instantly felt guilt gnawing away at his insides. Nicole wasn't worthy of severing the bond he had with his old man. Not a chance in hell.

"I forgot what it felt like to have a good laugh," Jacob said.

"From what I've heard, Singapore is a great place to be." Jameson's eyes questioned him.

He stared off. There were some things that were better left unsaid.

"Fame or not, my family is here, not over there."

"True." Jameson sat forward, narrowing his eyes. "But Jacob, I think it's best that I ask again for confirmation. Are you certain you are ready to run the show?"

Jacob didn't have to think twice. He had been preparing his whole life for this moment. If there was supposed to be a limit, he had exceeded it a long time ago.

"I was born ready, father."

Jameson smiled, but it barely reached his eyes this time. "That's a good thing because Castle pharmaceuticals is becoming more and more of a dangerous pain in the neck."

"Who? Zion?" Jacob couldn't believe it.

Jameson nodded. "The news of our expansion didn't sit well with the young CEO."

Castle was an age long rival of Mayce labs. Earlier on, they grappled with Zion's father for the control of the drug market, but with his demise, his son proved to be twice as pig-headed as his father. Mayce groups climbed the ladder before Castle with their labs, dipping her hands in the health sector, and now, real estate. The formers chemical labs were dying, but they had arrived at the finish line already. The floating city and its towers would mean checkmate.

"You don't say. They plan to stop the construction," Jacob said, half in his head and half in the conversation.

"I'm certain Zion Castle already knows you're back in town. He knows that a change in power will happen soon." Jameson tossed a set of photographs towards Jacob. "He publicly declared himself an enemy the day he put a target on your head."

Jacob picked them up and made a quick shuffle through. Clearly, the man had been talking to a lot of important people to bring them on his side. It wasn't rocket science to know that he had an agenda to end Mayce.

He furrowed a brow. "Castle isn't a saint, but I am curious. To what extent is this man willing to go?"

"I don't know, but I'd say you better watch your back."

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