° The Other Side °

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The five missed calls on his phone disrupted Jeihral from focusing on the speaker in front. He checked for messages. The calls were from his father. For a second, Jeihral hesitated calling back.

Maybe his father just needed him to sign some paperwork, handle another disgruntled client, or read through policy manuals that needed revising. Typical Monday morning, and Jeihral knew he'd better show up in his old man's office fast. Or else.

Hence Mr. Eugene Han's underlings calling him "The Don". Everybody heeded his every word. People bowed down to Mr. Han. Around here, it was the norm. For as long as Jeihral could remember, Mr. Han easily had all of his subordinates wrapped around his little finger. His father was just that influential. Within these heavily built concrete walls, The Don's word was the law.

The sleep-inducing voice of the meeting's speaker distracted Jeihral's train of thought. He glanced at the slides in front, mostly bar graphs and numbers, and tried to remember why his presence in this meeting was necessary. Jeihral muffled a yawn.

The balding men around him held his attention, his seatmates amounting to fifteen this time. Why the unusually perfect attendance? It was time to show off the annual income report. Only money talk got these old grumps out of their multimillion dollar mansions and private properties. Of course they would all show up for today's important board meeting. Money was everything to these folks.

Jeihral studied the older men's neatly pressed suits and graying facial hair. All of them were decades older than him. Nothing new. He was used to being the junior in these meetings.

"Jeihral the newbie", the novice, the rookie who still had too much to learn...

He frowned and listened to the speaker in front: Gerald Han, his uncle. According to the slides, their list of bank clients grew almost double the past year. The profits of their real estate development business also forced a few satisfied nods out of their hard-to-please audience.

Out of boredom, Jeihral glanced to the only younger guy in the room. Daniel remained silent while seated by the corner of the long, expensive conference table. Daniel, his cousin and the speaker's only child, barely looked at the slides.

For a minute or two, Daniel would listen to his father yapping about profit margins and variances in front of the board of directors. At the moment Daniel pretended to be busy with the tablet he had been staring at since the meeting started. At times, Daniel would grin at something on the screen.

Probably just sexting with his girlfriend again. Jeihral held in a quiet laugh while his phone buzzed in his pocket. His father's name was on the screen. Without excusing himself, he stepped out of the uninvitingly cold conference room. "Yeah, Dad?" he said after picking up.

"Where are you?" The don's tone denoted impatience.

As per usual. "Fifth floor boardroom, Sir."

"Get up here. Now." His father ended the call abruptly. The big boss probably remembered Jeihral often drowsed off during board meetings.

If ever the Chairman would allow it, Jeihral would skip the boring weekly meetings and do real work instead. "What now..." Jeihral mumbled to himself, suspecting his father was in the mood to berate him again.

He stood inside the cold elevator to get to the 25th floor where his father's office was, and then rechecked his phone. No new messages. Great. It seemed his girlfriend wanted him to beg again.

It had been an hour or two—she still hadn't sent back a reply. His previous message must've upset her, since he'd used work again as his excuse. He just wasn't looking forward to going out to dinner with her tonight.

Upon reaching the huge wooden doors to his dad's office, Jeihral inspected the print label on the hardwood.

"EUGENE T. HAN, MBA, CEO V"

"CHAIRMAN — HAN GROUP OF COMPANIES"

It was what the lower part said. Some of the silver letters, he'd noticed up close, had lost their shine. Maybe housekeeping had been taking longer day-offs.

He stepped into the Chairman's roomy private office. "Your door sign needs polishing." He shut the heavy doors behind him. Jeihral had high respect for his father on many facets, but he never cared for courteous greetings whenever he faced the non-smiling don on early mornings.

"What? Get over here." Mr. Han didn't bother to glance at the door to acknowledge him. "What's taking them so long to wrap it up?" Mr. Han scowled sat behind the wide desk.

Piles of paperwork that needed reviewing and signing waited patiently for his father's attention. Some piles looked old enough to pay rent. Lately his father seemed to only enjoy vacationing and casino-hopping out of the country with his friends, mostly divorced.

"Your brother's hundred-page slideshow," Jeihral muttered as the don scribbled his signature above each dotted line.

The old man badly needed another secretary. Too bad Mr. Han didn't want another one. Eugene Han rolled up the long sleeves of his wrinkled white button-down. Behind him, his coat haphazardly hung onto his swivel chair's headrest.

"Darlene sort those yet?" Jeihral asked. His father's secretary should have the desk cleared up before six in the evening.

That's if the boss bothered to sign everything that needed to be signed. Quite a big 'if' these days. "Can't you tell?" Mr. Han frowned.

"Oh." Jeihral watched his father scan through a bunch of papers from their bank. The blue and green logo on the documents told him they came from the bank.

"If only there was someone who cared enough to help," the don grumbled.

"Why'd you call me up again?" Jeihral frowned. Were they going to talk shop this early?

Besides losing in golf and polo tournaments and to their competitions in the industry, the one thing his father seemed to hate was talking business with him. According to his father, he didn't care enough for their family businesses.

It didn't quite ring true. At least to his ears. Being Deputy CEO this year took up most of his time and energy. Every day, all week, every week. Jeihral just didn't have the patience or time to deal with other management issues. He scratched his forehead.

Sitting through meetings after meetings? Nah. He liked to act quick and get the job done fast. He wasn't one to dwell on strategy planning. "I got a bidding in 15, Dad." Jeihral checked the Rolex on his wrist.

"Find out how much this company owes us in total, starting from '98." Mr. Han handed him a folder of documents.

More bank statements? Jeihral took the folder and frowned briefly. Upon checking the contents, he made a mental note to never again ask the big boss about the paperwork on his desk. "Have Darlene work on it, Dad. Kinda busy."

"If she had the time, you think I'd bother calling you?" the don retorted, his thick brows furrowed.

Alright. His dad was in a mood, clearly stressed. "Just hire another secretary."

Mr. Han scoffed. "'Cause the last time we tried, turned out great."

"Raish Trading?" Jeihral reclined and reviewed the paperwork in the folder. Bank account statements, as he guessed. "Who owns this company?"

"Old friend. He's dead now."

"Old client of the bank?" Jeihral kept reading the bank statements, then used a calculator to verify the figures. He squinted at the total. "Whoa. Almost 20 million."

"Do a background check on the chief accountant, most likely the culprit." Mr. Han scoffed. "The widow called. We'll meet with them tomorrow."

"The owner's wife?" Who did he mean by "we"? Jeihral sighed. Why was his attendance necessary? He was busy enough with his workload and he wasn't involved with their banking group. That was his Uncle Gerald's job. Well, other job. "Why do I have to be in the meeting?" Jeihral sighed.

"Did you really just ask me that?"

Jeihral shrugged and dropped the confused frown.

"I'll revisit the contract with them. Then you smooth things over while Gerald and I are meeting with the Taiwanese investors." Mr. Han reclined in his big swivel chair while his hand stayed busy signing papers on his desk.

"You're making them pay up? ASAP?" Jeihral checked the account statements again, then came up with a sensible hypothesis. "The company's no longer generating enough income, and I doubt the collateral's gonna cut it."

"19.4 million." Mr. Han shook his head. "The interest's just killing them. What I want you to investigate is why the widow and the daughter just found out about this."

"Who approved the contract?"

"Tiu. Before retiring." Mr. Han's half-grin showed some amusement. "Wonder how much his cut was."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Jeihral tsk-ed. That old toad Tiu worshipped money like nobody else. "So, I'll talk to...Mrs. Helenna Raish?"

"Tomorrow. With her daughter. Revise the agreement." Mr. Han scanned his hair and outfit. "Dress nicely. Fix your hair. You look like a bum." The don signed some more paperwork. "And someone from NBP called."

NBP? Someone from the National Prison called? "About what, Dad?"

"If it's about your troublemaker cousin, get it sorted out. Call his lawyer today."

Lawyer? "You think...something happened to Kenji in prison?"

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