"Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Lincoln is currently at the Lincoln consulting firm." He said, and Mr. Lincoln froze. What the heck was Charles doing at Lincoln firm. Even with all the anger, a pang of fear hit him. What was the crafty devil doing at his firm? "For what?" He asked, with wide eyes. "The reason is unknown to me, but if you must speak to him, you will find him there." The manager replied, and Mr. Lincoln stepped back. Why would Charles be at his firm? No matter how he tried to think of a reason, he must couldn't wrap his head around it. There was something suspicious going on. He was very sure of it. "Where's my wife? And my sons?" He asked. "Currently we can't let them go, as we haven't received orders yet, but if you want to see them, you can." "Lead the way." Mr. Lincoln said stiffly, wondering why it felt like his family were being treated like prisoners. The manager led the way and Mr. Lincoln followed. He was taken to a hall with rooms for employees to rest within shifts, and take care of themselves. The rooms were quite good, and provided comfort for employees. However, the very last room was more of a store than a room, and it was there Sandra, Tyson and Carlos were being held. "What's… what's all this?" He asked, furiously. Why are they staying…" Before he could complete his words, Sandra had thrown herself at him. He was her salvation. He had come to save them. They shared a brief kiss before returning to the manager. "Why are they staying in this dingy place?" He asked, waving his arm over the place. "With all due respect, they're not employees and cannot be treated with the same regard we have for employees. The privileges are exclusive to employees alone." The manager informed him politely. "Well, they're not employees! They're clients! What do you do if they do not return? Is this how you treat clients at your resort?" Mr. Lincoln asked fuming, and Sandra's pride swelled like a balloon filled with helium. "We're very sorry, but those were the orders we were given.""Lousy orders!" Mr. Lincoln snapped, and turned to Sandra. "Look at your cheeks. You've lost a lot of weight." He said, rubbing a thumb against her cheek. "Mum's tried a lot." Carlos chipped in. "Of course, I know she did. I'll need you all to stay here, and wait a little longer, while I see the son of a bitch, who had the guts to keep you here." Lincoln said, and Tyson groaned. "We can't leave right now?" He asked, looking like he had just received the worst news of his life. "Yes, you'll have to wait around a little. He's not here at the moment, but I'll find him and talk to him. Don't you worry, your working here will not be in vain. I will make sure you have something to laugh, and be amused at when the whole thing is done." He reassured them, and Sandra nodded. "I trust you when you assure me of amusement." She said, with a smile, finally feeling at peace. When Lincoln had left, Tyson and Carlos left the room, and sat in the relaxation center, Awaiting their father's return. "Damn. This was one of the most humiliating days in my life. Everyone was staring. I can swear someone took a picture." Carlos said, with a little hint of anger. "A picture? Damn, who's that?" "Some girl, but she pretended to be taking a selfie when I glared at her. It was annoying, honestly." Carlos admitted. "A photo is bad, but not as bad as the humiliation I faced. While we were still having fun, I once told a girl to clean a shelf properly. I think I might have shouted, but anyways, that same girl told me to clean that same shelf properly." Tyson said, and Carlos' jaw dropped. "Really?" "Really. It was crazy. She did exactly the same thing I did to her. I was so infuriated, but couldn't say a word." "They know who we are, yet they had the guts to do all these. Dad's here now." "Where do you think dad went to see Charles, though? He looked kind of troubled, and that's unlike him." Tyson pointed out, cleaning his nails. "Yeah! I thought I was the only one who noticed. He looked like he was uneasy, and something was bothering him." Carlos added, turning to Tyson. "You don't think Charles did something more, do you? Maybe threatened him or something? "I really don't know why I that's not the case, but let's hope it's just our imagination. Dad being freaked out by Charles will be my worst nightmare. Seriously, why did he even have a child like that?" Carlos asked, opening a bottle of water. "He's indeed at fault. Not for having a child like Charles, but for marrying Charles' mother. It's her fault for giving birth to such a thorn in the neck." Tyson remarked, still cleaning his nails, and Carlos laughed, before tipping his head backwards, and drinking water. "At least, now she's six feet beneath the ground where she ought to be." Carlos added. "Harsh, but it's a nice one. She's paid the price for giving birth to an unwanted idiot." "Wish I could say that to his face though. Can't wait for such a beautiful opportunity." Carlos said, and Tyson sniggered. "I doubt hell make a reaction though. He's as good as hell when it comes to hiding his feelings." Tyson replied. "Still, it'd hurt him. I'd love for anything that would make him think or cry." Carlos explained, wrinkling his nose. "He's got a heart of stone, Carlos. Always bouncing back, and hitting back when we get him." "Bouncing back or hitting back, he's going to stop when I lay my hands on him." Carlos promised, and Tyson chuckled. Mr. Lincoln took a cab to his firm, and was impatient all the while in the car. He kept on telling the driver to drive faster, but the driver was adamant about not crossing the speed limit. It nearly made Mr. Lincoln go mad. He hated the thought of that idiot in his company. Was he eyeing it? Did he plan to get back at him by coveting his company? Well that wouldn't happen. Mr. Lincoln thought to himself. He was going to guard his company with all he had, and there was nothing Charles would attempt that woukd help him steal the Lincoln consulting firm. He was so restless that he forgot to pay the cab driver upon getting to his destination. "Hey! You haven't paid me!" The man shouted at loud, staring at Mr. Lincoln was a kind of fraud. Mr. Lincoln went back to him, and struggled to take out a note with unstable fingers, but ended up picking four. In his unsettled, and anxious state, he threw the four notes at him, and left. "Keep it." He said, walking towards the steps briskly. "Woah! Oh my God!" The driver exclaimed as he checked the notes. They were too much for a single ride. "You telling me to rest the whole day! Know that? Thank you!" He shouted, looking out the window, with a large grin on his face. Then he drove off. Mr. Lincoln climbed up the steps hastily, however before he could walk into the luxurious reception hall, he spotted a box outside. A box with letters scribbled on it. Letters that made his sweat run cold.