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Fifty Six
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Cold Stone One
IVORYI nodded stiffly but satisfactorily at the black suit that was picked out for me by my chief maid. I sat quietly and looked into the mirror while my other maids did my hair and make up. My striking blue eyes took in the winged eyeliner, mascara and dark red lipstick. My porcelain skin was flawless and smooth. "That became tighter," I mumbled to the maid who did my hair. "I am sorry, Miss," she fidgeted and bowed to my reflection in the mirror. I felt her loosen the braids she had done while I sipped the coffee on the vanity table. There was a knock on the door and a maid by the door opened it. "Is the princess not ready for her first day?" Aunt Joan's voice rang excitedly. My lips tugged in a tight smile and I turned stiffly to her. She was already by me, staring at my reflection in the mirror."Your father would be so proud of what you have become. We raised him a fine daughter," she said proudly, tears gleaming in her eyes. My father had died three years ago, when I was
Cold Stone Two
Mum had left without turning back. I had run out chasing the vehicle until my legs gave out. The guards had come out to carry me, a crying mess, into the house. Grandma was at the door waiting patiently, but I could see the fiery in her eyes. "Drop her." She bellowed to the guards and they set me down. I crawled to her, sobbing. "Grandma, she left. Dad was just buried and she left. She did not think about me.""Then why are you wasting your tears?" Grandma grated."It hurts," I cried. "It hurts so much.""It would hurt more if you do not shut up right this instant," Grandma threatened. Everyone was silent except me. I could not help but cry. Why would Mum abandon me? "Get me my whip," Grandma ordered. "I need to teach my granddaughter how to endure pain."My teary eyes rounded like saucers. My heart began to pound. The whip arrived and Grandma slashed it across my back. My screams filled the house. The slashes rained down on me and with it came a new burst of pain. My throat had c
Cold Stone Three
He sat across me, old and wrinkled in age, with one of his sons. Stone Culturist needed him to sell his bakery to us, from the information provided from the files Cassidy had found. We had been trying to convince him for over a month now and yet he was not willing to sell. "Mr. Hatcher, this would benefit both you and your family. We will pay you well," I tried persuading the eighty year old man. The man looked at his son, who leered at me. The man turned back to me slowly. "No. I have always said no. Why do you still persist?" He chafed. I shifted in my seat, Cassidy quietly standing by me and typing away on her tab. "Because we need you. It is very important. Not just for us but for the world.""My answer is still a no," he dismissed. I looked at his son, who was still gazing at me. I winked at him and he grinned."I would like to speak to your son in private then." I told the old man. "Cassidy, escort him out."Cassidy led the man out and returned. I stretched my arm and plac
Cold Stone Four
"Grandma, did you do it?" I had questioned her in her bedroom that morning. She was still in bed, sipping special tea always prepared for her ritual every morning. "Yes, I did. And I do not have regrets." She responded, her face and voice devoid of emotion. "W...w...what?" I sputtered. Grandma had taught me how to feel less emotion and not let those emotions show. But now, I felt something strange. Could not place a finger at what it was called, but it was there. Fear?"How could you, Grandma?" I questioned her. "We needed the bakery," she shrugged, sipping from her tea. "How would this get it?" I almost snapped in annoyance, but I knew if I did, I would be punished. "It would leave his family with no choice but to sell the bakery and we would be ready to buy it. You should visit their home today to offer our condolences. Then persuade them into selling the bakery." She instructed me. Even though her act was ruthless, it would get us what we wanted. And the old man was surely
Cold Stone Five
I stormed into my office and flung myself into my swivel chair in annoyance. Who dared stand up to me? Who dared talk back at me? Who dared to have the last say except me? Who dared to rile me up like this? "Draw up all files on that man," I said smoothly to Cassidy. I was working so hard not to let this altercation affect my always cool demeanor. "Ummm, ma'am. That can't be possible," she mumbled. I snapped my gaze to her and squinted my eyes. "Why?" "Well, we do not have a lead on him. No name, no voice recognition, no..." I interrupted her. "Were you blind or are you so slow and dumb? Did you not see him. Can you not fucking describe him?" "B..b..." "No buts. I do not care who you call or what you do. I need to crush that man and you would have to find out who he is so I can do so. If I do not get any info about him in two days, kiss your job goodbye." I thundered. Cassidy looked visibly shaken. "Y...yes ma'am." My eyes widened in reminiscence. "Ah yes." I pointed my
Cold Stone Six
Waking up groggily from my odd sleeping angle with a pounding headache, I took in the state of my room and eyed my laptop on my bed. I remembered using it last night to look up the name 'Jide' on the internet. Found out the dude was strange because he was African. Those ugly barbaric set of people, Grandma had made me believe. Nothing happened last night between us. He gave me a curt glance and sauntered away. Like he was not afraid of me. Like he had risen from the ashes. It unrattled me. I was ready for a challenge of words, like we had at our first meeting but none came. I climbed out of bed and wondered where this banging headache came from. I searched in my bedside drawers for a bottle of Aspirin and swallowed three. I was not sure I could make it to work today. I did not feel too well. Looked like the party had a huge effect on me. I hated those functions. I had to be on my toes all the time, even when I was a kid. I picked my phone and laid back in bed. Sending a quick
Cold Stone Seven
'I was not going to do this. I was not pushing through with this.' I kept chanting in my head the next morning as I rode to work. There was no way in hell I was going to work under someone and definitely not in a farm. Why must I take the brunt for the company? And why did those stupid Africans insist on having me do this? Why could I not just order a staff to do it? This was frustrating. I ignored everyone's greetings as I stormed into the building. I could see from my periphery how scared my employees were of my mood. Getting to my office, I banged the door shut. Cassidy was already waiting with some files but I ordered her out. I sat in my chair and balanced my head in my arms as they rested on my desk. Would these stupid people have told Grandma to do this if she was the CEO? Why would Grandma even agree to this shit? I could not do it, even for business. I grabbed the telephone receiver on my desk. "Send Miss Jones into my office right away." I ordered my receptionist
Cold Stone Eight
"Why are you back so early?" Grandma asked me sternly as I marched into the house. I had closed up work for the day because I was restless as curiosity was eating me raw. "We have got a problem," I said coldly, my fingers clenching on the file in my hand. She inclined her head in askance and sat up from her chair. I sat on the sofa opposite her in the study and leaned on my thighs. "Mr. Spencer is withdrawing his shares," I announced, my senses attuned to her every move. She remained unwavering. "What does he want?" "A reinvestigation on father's death," I replied. She flinched and rearranged her skirt. "Why does he want reopen old wounds? That case was closed three years ago." I sat up straight and gave her a scathing glare. "You see that is the problem. You say the case is closed but the police report says it went cold." I saw her shiver. It was a second reaction but it was there and I had noticed it. Her pupils dilated and she gulped. "That is nonsense," she evaded.
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