Chapter 4

" We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting." - Charles Bukowski Crayon city, even from a distance stood up in all its magnificence. The city, built up in the mountains was some sort of fortress, a fortress of fortitude for the rich and reclusive. It was also the home of the great Maracheli industries and the man that Ryan was there to see, Dominic Maracheli. The fiery man was a force to be reckoned with and even now, as he settled back in his booked hotel room, Ryan felt a little apprehensive about meeting him. It was true that they had wronged him, true that because of them he had lost the one thing, no two things - people, as he quickly amended, who was very important to him. He had been a coward, that he could agree with but even so, he felt that it was quite a wrong thing to do to control a person or manipulate him in the way Katrina and his family had. "It was all her fault!" he told himself, and even that one drunken night of stupidity, that too she had instigated it. He should have known that it was to trap him. To force herself into his life and because of that, he loathed her with every bone that was in his body. " I'll show her..." he muttered to himself over a glass of dry scotch as his eyes went out and looked out into the greying landscape. It was going to rain soon and that meant that he would have to put his plans on hold, if only for the night and then, early in the morning, fresh and bright, he would confront the white witch and lay claim to his child growing in her belly. A bitter thought, a bitter pill to take that is what it was and he masked it with yet another gulp of his scotch, burning it away as the drink went down his throat and into the empty stomach beneath. Another thought and his gaze went back to the now empty glass that was staring back at him, in his hands taunting him daring him to fill it up again. His grip tightened around its stem and as he brought it close, staring at it as if it was the very genesis of his every ill-luck, his hand swung up then down, indecision marring his thoughts until finally, he set the cup down with a heavy sigh. "I really need to stop doing this." he reflected as he allowed his body to sag back into the Grey comforter, a wide piece of bedding that covered the entire expanse of the hotel's king-size deluxe bed. It was luxurious as his mother had not spared any expenses in trying to appease him. If the decor had not been that obvious, the golden lamps and the silk bed sheets would have been proof enough of that very fact. This was a very costly room and even though he knew that he could afford it, a shattered glass against its textured grey interior would not work out for the advancement of his plans. "I really need to stop drinking if I am going to have a shot at this." he thought as stood up to walk towards the Crayon city directory that was sitting heavily beside a corded telephone. For a moment, Ryan debated on whether to use it or not and if he did what exactly it was he would be looking for. His fingers lightly grazed its surface before brushing the book's cover aside, his hesitation showing in every slow and apprehensive move he made. A page, then another and soon he was looking at the listings on the first A page. His fingers lingered on the page, tracing, caressing the letters as they formed thoughts and those thoughts formed ideas that he put into actions. "Of course, alcoholics anonymous!" the light bulb shone brightly in his mind, shedding light to his earlier hesitation and to the direction that he needed to go. He needed to prove that he was a worthy parent and if the words that he had once overheard his sister say were true, then he needed an entire arsenal of proof to do exactly that. " If the white witch intends to divorce me, then I will make sure that she suffers for it. For wrecking my life and for attempting to do it again." he thought bitterly as he reflected upon the possibilities, the hurts, and the pain that was threatening to rip his heart aside once again."She did all this to get back at me. Wasn't it enough that I didn't touch her, that I never touched her!" his fists slumped the phone directory before him as a wave of frustration threatened to drown him. Slowly his gaze lifted and his eyes regarded the still open bottle of scotch for a moment, then he shook his head no." I can't. I can't lose another one again." with that, he picked up his phone and jacket and walk out of his hotel room with a purpose in his mind. Dark thoughts continued to cloud Ryan's mind even as he traipsed through the streets drenched in the rain that had finally let out. It bathed him, washed his soul, cleared his mind such that he was able to think to plot without the influence of alcohol clouding his judgment. Not that sound judgment was any concern to him but he never fooled himself to think for just one moment that this fight would be easy. With Katrina alone maybe, but he knew, he knew very well that she had the full backing of the entire Maracheli household behind her. Heck, he suspected that some of his very own family were supporting her too. Hadn't they done that those five years ago? Driven him to the very edge of insanity with their preposterous list of demands? As if one could command their heart to love one and hate another? As if one could throw away all their dreams, their aspirations, the very thing that makes them tick to pursue another. They had failed for even though he married her, it did not fulfill any of their fancies. No, it had nothing to do with his love for her but a punishment, a punishment for the one who would elude him and a punishment who would claim his even when it was not theirs to take. It was to hurt Malisha, the woman who he had already wronged in so many other ways. The love that he was too ashamed to face and yet, it was to punish her to - Katrina, the genesis of all his ill-fortune. "Are you okay?" the voice startled him and he realized that he had stopped. His dark coat dripping, his blonde hair dark with wetness. The size of the mammoth of a building that was standing before was not lost on him and as he looked down from the steps leading to the great oak doors, his gaze settled on the little woman in a heavy cloak and a transparent umbrella. "Come in. We'll get you something to dry you off with." she said as she confidently gripped his hand and began to pull him in. He should have stopped her but he didn't. It was so hard seeing form and her size but he was too weary. Too weary of the fight and her voice, the concerned tone in her voice was something he had never had the luxury of hearing before. It unnerved him, comforted him, and made him weary at the same time. Somehow, this little stranger, had him hooked in her little hands and was pulling him to God knew where. "You don't..." he started to say as he watched her put away her umbrella and the cloak that she had worn to meet him outside. "Tut tut! None of that. All are welcome here." she said with that same concerned voice before turning to look at him straight in the eyes. Her eyes were brown, a warm brown that warmed his soul all the way to rain chilled bones she gave such a look, a look that could only be described as caring that made all the fight go out of him. "We will get you a dry change of clothes and a hot mug of?" "Chocolate will be fine ma'am" he answered politely, surprising himself with how demure he sounded. "Chocolate... and after that, when it is dry and no longer pouring, you can go on your merry way. Is that acceptable?" "It is acceptable," he agreed, and at which the little woman looked up at him to stare weirdly. After a while she shook her head as if from a daze and turned, beckoning him to follow her wherever she went. "We need a plan..." the Old woman told Katrina as she took the seat that always stood behind Dominic's desk. He would have a fit if he knew it if he saw her lounging contentedly on it, but right now that was the least of her concerns. Katrina's happiness and the fruition of her plans were of at most importance and then, everything else came third. "We need to start with a venue and once that is figured out we can build or renovate." Katrina nodded as she took down notes on a green-covered notepad. Brightly colored three-dimensional butterflies decorated its upper transparent surface and that, together with the brightly colored pen, pink with white feathers at the end brought color to an otherwise bland but warm room. "I was thinking Crayon, and if we are successful, we can move it online, to the capital and even to Veterum," she said as the picture on a certain magazine cover came to mind. " Why not do both? It won't cost you will it?" " It may." Katrina said to the old woman." There is the cost of running a website and I have to think about the delivery of the goods and the safety of the goods in transit among other factors." The old lady smiled. "I am glad you have thought this through. It makes coming up with the proposal an easier thing to do and if your father continues to 'play hard to get' " she put quotation marks on the words. " I may even chose to invest in you..." "But grandma you never..." "I know! I know!" the old lady laughed at Katrina's mortified expression. "For you I can make an exemptions." "But papa..." the girl tried again, obviously concerned that the decision her grandmother was willing to make would not auger well with her father. "I'll handle him. Now, the suppliers, we need to make a list and you need to make an inventory of things you want to sell. I need you to do research and to find out the market prices, the wholesale prices and come up with a reasonable price list depending on the clients that you want to target." All these Katrina scribbled down furiously. "Then when you are through with that, we can look around for a space to set up, again depending on the clients that you are targeting and when that is done, we can compile all that into a proposal that is worthy of your father's eyes." How about the website?" won't that bring extra costs that will have to be factored in the proposal? Originally I thought I could use the profits to do that." " Sure, but I need you to be able to project how this business will cover its own cost and bring in profits if its going to do anything impress your father. I need you to look at marketing strategies too, different ways to reach your clientele and to hook them in such a way that they keep buying your products and even that is not enough. We need them speaking about you, referring you to their friends, and need I remind you, for this to work, you need to have something that the rest of your competition does not have. Your father's name can only take you so far and in as much as it might be a plus, it might also be your down fall if you do not plan well enough." "Yes gradma."Katrina said as she took in all that her Nana had to say, knowing fully well that she carried generations and generations of knowledge passed down from one business magnate to another. She was right as always and Katrina needed to impress her father. Even though her grandmother was offering to invest in her, the man's approval was also important. Pleasing him, convincing him was one step forward to actualizing her dreams and if she could do it, if she could convince him that she was capable, then she had faith that she could do the same with her other future investors and corporate clients who needed more convincing to bring their business to her. "I was thinking..." Katrina started as she tapped her pen on the desk, staring down thoughtfully. "How about I design a new line of baby products, it will give me an opportunity to show case the new as well as the existing ones hence creating the variation that we need." "That's good. That's why you will need to work on that research. At the same time I know that it is a lot to handle especially in your condition," the old woman's gaze dropped to her stomach. "So, you may need help and hence your first member of staff." "No way!" Katrina responded excitedly. "Oh, you will pay me back," the old began to say but was soon disrupted by a solid knock on the door. "What?" she snapped back, irritated at the disruption coming in at such a crucial point in their two-person meeting. A trembling maid opened the study door and gazed out into the room beyond. "There's a certain gentleman at the gate. A mister Thorpe, I believe they called him and the guards want to know if he is allowed inside." "What does the butler say?" "He is quite unwell ma'am." "And the housekeeper?" "At the market ma'am." "How convinient." the older woman said with a look of displeasure showing on her face. "What are Mr. Maracheli's directives on the matter. Doesn't the security personnel know this?" "They do. The admittance of any Thorpe into thid household is dependent on yours and Miss Katrina's directive on the matter and hence, they cannot act until otherwise told by you." "Katrina..." the older Mrs. Maracheli's turned to look at Katrina who had now turned as white as a sheet. "Katrina! You need to pull yourself together." she said shaking her granddaughter out of her fear-induced trance. "You're right." she whispered back as she pulled herself out from her self-inflicted living nightmare. "Let him in. I need to be able to finally tell him what I think of him." # As the gates moved back Ryan was able to see into the Maracheli's Crayon residence, one thought stuck in his mind. He had made it. Tree after tree rolled by, long cedar branches shading his vehicle from the mid-morning heat. With every distance that he drove, his apprehension grew much wilder. Ryan was afraid. He was afraid of the man that would meet there. The man who had shackled his daughter forcefully to him, who now commanded an army of bodyguards and was known all over Ueteribus for his ruthlessness. For this, Ryan had every reason to fear, but cowardice was a path he had sworn never to walk on again. It had let him down, made him lose the things that mattered in his life, the things that his journey to Veterum had only just revealed to him. Even more, he had faced the formidable Phaedra of Veterum and lived and ruthless or not, he knew without a doubt that only death would keep him from this child. t This child was yet to be born. A child that knew no hate not that the other one did, but through his actions, he had lost all rights to be called his father now. But this one, it would bear his name and he would make sure of it and not unless Katrina had looked elsewhere, not even the threat of a divorce could keep him from claiming a title that was rightfully his.