More Life: Chapter One

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    "Quarterly report are looking good. Stocks are up eight percent..."

    Aubrey Drake Graham glanced at the Audemars Piguet watch looped around his wrist while a senior accounting executive officer ran down numbers for everyone else seated in the lavishly decorated conference room. I should at least feign interest in this, but right now I'm the least bit interested, he thought while tilting his head back. He closed his eyes and smiled at the image flashing in his mind. All I can think about is getting back home to her. I'm at the helm of one of the largest corporations in North America and need to know how well our company is doing, but all I can think about is holding my woman. Rubbing her growing belly. I'm going to be a father. Me.

    "Aubrey, you're up."

    Aubrey blinked out of his thoughts. He didn't have a speech prepared, and he usually did. This time, he would wing it. Rising from his seat, he smoothed down his suit jacket before scooting his chair back and moving down the length of the conference table.

    His executives each gave him nods of acknowledgement as he passed by them.

    "Thank you for that wonderful update, Corey," Aubrey stated as he moved to the front of the room. "It has been such a great experience, returning to the LA offices of Graham Enterprises. I used to visit much more frequently, but after a rough few years, it took me longer than usual to return. Thankfully not many of you held it against me."

    There were a few chuckles around the table.

    "Our company has survived some pretty brazen attacks as of late, and I don't take the credit for that. Despite multiple attacks against our company, our stocks are up eight percent. Eight percent. I'm not narcissistic enough to take the credit for that. The current upswing our company is experiencing is a testament to the strength, dedication, and loyalty of our staff. Everyone stepped up for this company in a major way. These offices received the same bonus that our Toronto offices did, but I wanted to make sure to express my gratitude to you all while I'm here. I'm hoping you pass that gratitude along to your staff." Aubrey paused to catch his breath, and saw Carlos Villegas, the flamboyant best friend of his fiance, flirting with the male receptionist visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

    Carlos turned and caught Aubrey watching him. He wiggled his fingers at Aubrey and continued pushing his mail cart with his free hand.

    Aubrey ducked his head down and smiled. Then, he cleared his throat and continued speaking to the executives seated at the table. As he was wrapping up his speech, his words died in his throat at the sight of a pair of uniformed officers approaching the receptionist seated outside of the conference room doors. His brows drew together and his chest grew tight. What is this?

    The officers seemed to be listening intently to the receptionist. Then, they both turned their heads and looked in Aubrey's direction.

    Distantly aware that his executives were waiting for him to continue and close out his speech, Aubrey kept his eyes locked on the officers as they approached the conference room doors and pulled them open.

    "Mr. Graham?" the shorter stout officer called out.

    "Yes?" Aubrey returned.

    The taller of the two officers beckoned with one hand. "Can we have a word with you?"

    This has to be regarding Palmer. Was he killed in prison? I wouldn't be surprised. Is he attempting to threaten Destiny and I from jail?

    Harry Palmer was a politician that he'd called out in an article written by his fiance. After his name was dropped in the article, he'd all but waged war on Aubrey. He had a plethora of skeletons he was attempting to keep from being discovered, and Aubrey's article had shone an unwanted light on the politician.

    Aubrey forced a smile on his face as he excused himself from the conference room. His heart hammered in his chest as he surged past them and led them to his office. Once the door was closed at their backs, he turned to face them. "Is this about Palmer?"

    "Palmer?" the shorter officer repeated.

    "I mean...I assumed the reason for your visit had to do with him. I can't imagine what other reason you'd have..."

    The officers exchanged a look and one of them rubbed the back of his neck.

    Dread filled the bottom of Aubrey's stomach. Don't freak out. Give them a chance to tell you why they're here before freaking out.

    "I regret to inform you, Mr. Graham, that there has been an accident," the taller officer stated.

    Aubrey shook his head without even realizing it. He backed away from them until he bumped into the front of his desk. "No," he whispered.

    The shorter officer withdrew a small notepad from his jacket pocket and flipped up the first few pages. "There was a vehicular accident involving one Destiny Richards in a car registered to one Aubrey Graham."

    "Which hospital is she in?" Aubrey demanded, whipping his cell phone out from his suit pants pocket.

    Another look exchanged between the two officers.

    His heart grew heavier and heavier in his chest. "What does that look mean?" he asked, holding his phone in midair. "Why did you look at each other like that? Which hospital is she in? Is she in stable condition?"

    One of the officers gestured towards his desk chair. "Did you maybe want to have a seat?"

    The words Aubrey wanted to say, the questions he wanted to ask them got stuck in his throat. He couldn't get them out. There were so many obstacles he and Destiny had overcome. They'd gone to hell and back, just to be together. There's no way that harm would come to her. "Is she... okay?" he finally croaked out.

    "I'm very sorry, Mr. Graham," the taller officer said, concern etched on his face.

    Aubrey's knees were already buckling by the time the officer apologized.

    "Destiny Richards did not survive the accident."

    His pulse pounded in his ears. His hands went clammy. No. They're wrong. This is a case of mistaken identity, or... "God wouldn't do this to me," he said, and his voice sounded far away to him. "I overcame so much to be with her. My own ego, my own bullshit problems. We...we were made for each other."

    "Words cannot express how sorry we are to have to tell you this."

    "She's...my person," Aubrey went on, shaking his head. "Are you sure it wasn't someone who just looks like her? I just spoke with her on the phone a little bit ago, she was shopping."

    "At the home goods store," one of the officers supplied. "A few of those bags were present at the scene."

    "The scene." Like this is a part of some CSI episode or something. "No," Aubrey whispered, tears springing to his eyes. "No, this isn't poss..." The words got caught in his throat. "She's home, waiting for me. We're starting a family together, planning a wedding."

    "We have grief counselors available-"

    The floor came rushing at Aubrey, and then the world faded to black.

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