Thorne III

His conversation with his grandfather is still ringing in his head as he drives to the T. Muller Building.

"When are you going to settle down, Thirdy? Don't tell me that you'll wait until you'll reach forty before thinking of bringing a new heir to our throne. I want to see my great-grandchildren before the earth swallows me."

His grandfather got married when he was in his late thirties; that's why he has only one son, and that's his father. His father was born when his grandfather was thirty-nine. And his father also got married in his late thirties. His father had him when he was thirty-seven. His grandfather said that he is still hoping to see his grandchildren before he dies. How is it going to happen? He's not ready to settle down yet. It's unfair. They both have enjoyed their lives. It's not his fault why they are already old, and they didn't have great-grandchildren yet. Why do they have to force him?

"Grandpa, I can give you as many great-grandchildren as you like if it's okay for you to acquire them from any woman who's willing to do it for me without any attachment," he told him.

He earned that dreadful glare from his grandpa. But after a while he said.

"I can't blame you; you're still in your youth, and settling down isn't a priority right now. I just wish I could at least have a glimpse of my great-grandchild," his grandpa said sadly.

"As I said, Grandpa, I can give you a grandchild made by artificial insemination if it's okay for you to have a grandchild made by artificial insemination. If there's a woman to agree with the idea. At least it's still my blood, right, Grandpa?" He said.

His grandfather thinks for a moment and says.

"Fine for me, just choose the good breed of a woman. Breed? Just get the good-blooded woman," his grandpa replied, chuckling.

Their conversations have changed his mood. That's why he's not in a good mood when he entered their own building.

The T. Muller & Group of Companies. This is the financial institution, including investment banking, commercial banking, and asset management. It was established by his great-grandfather. Now as the only heir, he's the CEO of the T. Muller & Group of Companies.

He goes straight to his private lift going up to his office in the building. He only seated a few minutes when his P.A. knocked and asked him to check the collateral of a woman for a loan.

"I'll give you back after I check it," he said.

After his P.A. left his office, he went down to the loan department.

"Where's the person who owns this title deed as collateral for a loan?" he asked the lady at the table. She's the one who is assisting those first-time borrowers.

"She is seated in the waiting area, Mr. Muller. I asked her to wait. She is that one in the baby pink blouse." The woman replied, pointing to the lady in pink through the glass window.

"Tell her that we have to survey the place first before we will approve her loan," he instructed the woman.

"Okay, Mr. Muller. I will tell her," the woman said, standing to get the woman in baby pink.

He put down the title deed on the woman's table and left. He's not in his good mood, and he hates it. He went outside and sat on one of the benches to breathe some fresh air. Though nothing is fresh with this kind of environment, still he has to breathe it anyway.

After a few minutes later, he notices the lady from the loan department. She is walking towards the bench next to where he is seated. She looks exhausted, but her beauty still stood out even in her baby pink, simple blouse. He doubts it, too, that it's a signature blouse. She paired it with a faded blue jeans that show her shapely hips and long legs.

The cleaner has noticed her too. The woman is walking to the bench where the woman in baby pink is seated. She gives her a bottle of water.

"Drink some water first. You're so pale," he heard from a cleaner.

"Thank you!" The lady said, taking the bottle of water; she opened it and drank it.

"Miss, just trust God. He will not leave you nor forsake you. No matter how heavy your problem is, there's always a solution in it," he heard the woman saying.

"Thank you so much. My mother needs surgery. Her brain tumor is malignant, and the doctor said that it has to be removed or it will take my mother's life," the lady said, crying. This is the reason why she submitted their title deed to the loan. What a pity, he thought.

"Let's hope for a miracle," the woman told her.

"Thank you for talking to me. You're very kind," the lady said.

"God bless you. I'll go to finish my work now. Trust God; He will send you some help," the woman said and turned to leave.

The lady bent down and cried.

He stands up and walks to the bench where she's seated. He sits down beside her. She might notice that there's another person seated next to her. She gets ready to stand up to leave.

He must speak.

"You need money?" he asked.

She kept still, maybe having a second thought about whether to turn or walk away. After a second, she turns, facing him. He's awestruck. She's beautiful even with her tear-stained face. Her eyes were red. 

She tried to wipe off her tears with both hands.

"How did you know that I needed money?" She asked him, stuttering.

"I am only seated next to yours; I heard your conversation with the woman," he replied.

"Sit down and I will tell you how I am going to help you," he added.

He could see the hesitation in her face. Then she sits down where she was a while ago. She didn't say anything.

"This place is not a good place to tell you what I have to tell you. Follow me," he said, standing up.

She didn't move, so he stares at her and asks.

"I thought you were in need of money. Do you want your mother to live?"

She slowly stands up and follows him. He leads the way to his office. He punched the CEO floor when the lift stopped; he came out first and pushed the door of his office.

"Come in," he said, gesturing for her to get in.

She walks in but never says anything or asks anything.

"Have a seat," he said, tapping the space beside him.

She sits down, but at the end of the couch.

"Hmm. You're afraid of the person who would be the hope of your mother's life!" He said, staring at her.

She looks at him, and he meets her questioning, sad, tired, pale blue eyes. 

There's something hard about punching his chest seeing those eyes. 

It's full of suffering. Full of pain. 

He turned his head away.