Zayn was cognizant of William’s people tailing him, but he simply could not care less. Be it William Brown or Nathan Sullivan, they were all small fries in an expansive ocean. The last thing Zayn wanted to do was to give lowlifes undue attention.
He immediately engrossed himself in his new work as soon as he got back to Violet Vision. He had plans, and not just a floating, intangible concept, to establish an all-new advertising company. It was high time he started planning for it.
The seven billion dollars his grandfather had bequeathed him was not just going to sit in the bank as fodders to interest rates, Zayn had more ambitious plans and starting this late afternoon, he was going to draft its intricacies.
When it was almost time to go home, he received a call from Adrian.
The fact that he called made Zayn frown. Ever since he took over Violet Vision from Jordan, he had not contacted the Larsons since, nor did Jordan ever speak to him at all. Besides, Zayn hardly concerned himself with whatever was going on in that family.
So why would Adrian call him a time like this?
After a beat of hesitation, Zayn picked it up and was immediately greeted by Adrian and a tone that suggested ingratiation. “Hey, my good pal, Zayn. It’s me, Adrian.”
“Right. What’s the matter?” Zayn replied flatly.
“Well, the family’s planned a memorial for Grandpa, and the adults really want you to be there, since you’re still kin to the family and everything,” he replied solemnly. “Really, everyone’s dying to see you come home.”
Zayn could not stop a chortle from escaping him. “Oh, really? How come no one’s ever wanted me to go back home then?”
“Come on. That was a misunderstanding that took a while to get cleared up, alright?” Adrian retorted, just a little bitterly. “But now that it’s all cleared up, people want you home again. Besides, you haven’t paid a visit to Grandpa’s grave ever since he passed, am I wrong? It’ll be a fine opportunity for you to lay your last regrets to rest, since we’re planning a memorial.”
That reminder plunged Zayn’s heart into a turmoil. In his mind’s eye, he could not help but see his grandfather’s stern but kind face smiling at him. He had not been able to see his grandfather even in his last moments, and that regret stung. Grandpa had been the only one in his family who had ever treated him with kindness.
Pensive silence seized the conversation, Adrian did not have the nerve to break it.
“Is there anything else concerning Grandpa that I’m behind on?” Zayn asked.
Adrian was a little taken aback. “Uhm… I don’t know. Ever since Grandpa’s passing, everything about him is now the responsibility of the patriarch,” he replied, a little uncomfortably.
“The date,” Zayn said, just as brusquely as his previous question.
“Uh, the coming 28th,” Adrian replied quickly. “I can come and take you there personally…”
Zayn had hung up without sparing Adrian the time to finish his sentence.
“So, did he agree to it?”
Standing behind Adrian was a young man in golf attire. Every article of clothing and accoutrement on him was branded, which when put together, emanated a garish air of wealth and pretentiousness. It was evident from a glance that this man’s life was a bed of roses that had been carefully curated by his parents.
After his inquiry, the man positioned himself into a graceful swing.
The ball coursed through the air, tracing a magnificent arc, before landing flawlessly into a hole to the chorus of awesome fanfare.