Fury seeped into Charles veins, and he clenched his fist tight as his eyes stayed fixed on the message. Every single word of that message was infuriating. The hand which held the phone squeezed it tight, and his lips was pulled into a tight line. After a few seconds, he forced himself to take a deep breath, but it didn't work, so he took in several deep breaths until the sudden storm that had risen in his chest had settled a little. He was going to get Mark. That he was very sure of, and when he finally caught him, he was going to tear him apart. He would rip him in pieces. He was keeping his anger for him, so when he finally caught him, he would unleash all the rage and fury he had been trying so hard to control. He was going to make him wish he never made it out of his mother's womb. He was going to make him wish he never knew that he, Charles, existed. He was going to make him cry and beg, and if he didn't, well, he was going to wish he could. Charles threw his phone on his bed, and faced the ceiling with a sigh, staring into blank space. That night, sleep did not come knocking as early as it always did on nights like that. Infact, he couldn't find sleep. No matter how long he closed his eyes or how he tried to organize his thoughts, he just couldn't. Over and over, in the darkness of his closed eyes, he kept on seeing the text message. It kept on rewriting itself over and over in his mind, and it disrupted his thoughts with each second. He had never wished for sleep more than he did that night. At that point, he begged for sleep as he tossed and turned, finally realizing that no spot on the bed was ever comfortable, only sleep made it go unnoticed. And alas, the last thought before sleep finally favored him was one wishing Mark to magically end up in his hands. How he'd rip him apart. The next day, Charles' eyes flew open abruptly. He had not been aware when he had finally slept, and that sleep had been so little, it seemed to pass by in a blur. He closed his eyes against the warm sunlight coming in through the window and laid there for a while before sitting up, and swinging his feet off the bed. It was time to get ready for his day. He wiped his eyes with his hands and went to wash his face and brush his teeth. In minutes, Charles was tightening his tie, looking smooth, smart and ready for whatever the day brought to him, and as he walked out of his house, his shoes knocked on the floor with beautiful sounds. That morning, Charles went to Mr. Grayson's company, and immediately Mr. Grayson caught sight of him in the lobby, his face lit up in delight, and he walked briskly to him. Charles also saw him, and smiled as he kept up with his pace.Mr. Grayson hugged him briefly before patting him on the shoulder. "You have done well. I still do not know how you managed to get to Mr. Dane but this is miraculous. Not much can pull what you've just pulled. This is impressive. How did you even manage to do it? Tell me." Mr. Grayson urged, dipping his hands into his pockets. "The secrets to business, Mr Grayson, is to know something no one else knows. Aristotle Onassis." Charles quoted and Mr. Grayson bubbled up in cheerful laughter before wagging a finger at him. "You're bound for greater things, Charles. You really are. I'm so impressed. Honestly, along the way, I was a little doubtful especially Mr. Dane called the first day you met him, and told me I troubled you by sending you to Chicago when you probably had a lot going on and then, I considered bringing you back, but, I don't know… something just told me to hold on. A gut feeling of some sort." Mr. Grayson explained, with his fingers playing around in the air as he did, and Charles thought, if he hadn't been smart enough to realize how much Josephine meant to Mr. Dane, he would have been back and Mr. Grayson would mark him as a business man who was just like the others. "Thank you." He appreciated Mr. Grayson who started to walk away. "Follow me, Charles. Breakfast is on me, and I don't care if you've eaten." He said, snapping his fingers, and Charles followed him with a smile. He was glad he didn't take anything that morning. Charles drove he and Mr. Grayson to a nearby restaurant. "What would you like to eat?" Mr. Grayson asked, picking up the menu. "I eat anything, Mr. Grayson. There's nothing I don't eat." Charles replied with a smile as he watched Mr. Grayson who laughed. "Alright. So you don't mind a little bit of seafood this morning, do you? I find myself craving some good shrimp, and tuna." Mr. Grayson stated with his eyes glued to the menu. "Ooh, how about this Tuna and shrimp pasta? Two tastes in one." Mr. Grayson recommended as he passed the menu to Charles who took it. "It looks good. We should have that." He agreed, and they called on a waiter. "Two plates of Tuna and Shrimp pasta please." Mr. Grayson added, and the waiter took their order with a smile. Then as the waiter left, Mr Grayson turned to Charles. "I really still don't understand how you worked it out, but I must say I'm really impressed. Mr. Dane has been known for one hell of a stubborn business man. Once he says no, nothing is changing that to a three-letter word called Yes. He's always so strict, and does business only with who he wants." "Well, he's everything you just said. Maybe he's even more stubborn than you have told me, but I pulled a little trick there." Charles told him, and they both laughed. "Our robot building project will commence soon, and it's all thanks to you." "I'm very glad to know that." Charles said and took his hands of the table as the waiter came with their pasta. "Hmm." Mr. Grayson said, taking in the lovely smell. "Dig in." He told Charles, and Charles began to eat. He was actually impressed. The Pasta was great, and it immediately cleared his sour mood. "How was Chicago? Did you enjoy your stay there?" Mr. Grayson asked as he munched on Pasta. "Well, it was great. I didn't do much though. Although there were nice food there too." Charles said, as he poured water from a bottle into a glass. "Did you meet Mr. Dane's wife?" Mr. Grayson asked. "Josephine?" "You call her Josephine?" Mr. Grayson asked in surprise. He had expected to hear him say Mrs. Dane. "Well, it's… she wanted a first name basis, and I didn't mind since it was all business." Charles replied although it was quite an uncomfortable topic. He didn't want to remember Josephine or how low he had stooped to try to decieve her into persuading Mr. Dane, and just then, his phone rang. He picked it, and saw it was an unknown number. "I'm sorry, I have to pick this." He said, and picked the call. "Hello." "Nice try." He heard a female voice say on the phone. "Jo…?" He started, but immediately bit off his words. Josephine? How had she gotten his contact?