Chapter 42: The assistant.

Seven had messaged Nicolas's dad, not hesitating. His heart raced, but he held his chin high. In reality, Seven didn't think Joseph would even fire him if the conversation of the marriage was brought up. He was risking it all, and confidence is the only thing driving him further.

Before he knew it, Monday came. He stepped outside Joseph's office door, inhaling deeply. He cleared his throat, facing the grey door in front of him, knowing this could be the end of everything.

Back at Nicolas' office, Marcel had visited once noon dropped. He walked into the empty room, looking around.

"Hey, didn't expect you to visit," Nicolas announced, walking into his office, holding a cup of soda in his hands, "Did you just get off lunch?"

Marcel turned to face his friend, parting his lips, "Nah, I was going to go get lunch after my visit." He cleared his throat, seeing Nicolas walk towards his desk, setting his drink. The AC started in the office, breaking the second of silence.

"What's the visit for?" Nick asked, his back to the lawyer. Though, he knew what it was for. The wedding was tomorrow, and both men were nervous.

"You're still going through with it then?" Marcel questioned naturally, peering down at the floor. Nicolas swallowed, keeping his gaze on the table. He wanted to forget about it; He didn't want to think about how close it was coming.

"If I don't go through with it, my dad will take my name off of the company," Nicolas responded with defeat in his voice. Marcel raised an eyebrow, turning to his friend, "What? Why the hell would he do that?"

Nicolas shifted to Marcel, now making eye contact, "I don't know. I guess he just despises me that much, huh?"

Marcel frowned, crossing his arms, "And Seven?"

Nicolas closed his eyes for a second, hearing the name that's been roaming in his head, "He said he'd stay by my side no matter what I choose."

...

Back at Joseph's office, Seven strolled in with his hands behind his back. The room was cold with white walls and a grey carpet as flooring. It had more personality than Nick's office, being that there was more furniture like lamps in the corners of the room, a coffee place near the window, and what looked like a little 'hang-out' area in the middle of the room. The desk of the CEO was set near the wall, across the coffee place. The black marble desk was luxurious and organized with files set on the corner with a computer in the middle.

"Mr. Anderson will be here any second..." the chairman's assistant informed, "I admire your confidence in setting up the meeting with your boss's father." She grinned shyly, nodding at Seven. Her black hair was put into a ponytail, and it complimented her fair skin. The door opened and the chairman stepped in, not eyeing Seven, "Belle, thank you for walking him in. Go check in with the office about my schedule today."

The assistant nodded, walking past the chairman and out of the office. Seven felt his heart drop, now hearing the silence that grew in the room after being left alone with the man that blamed his son. Seven believed he'd feel nervous, but anger spiraled inside of him.

"Well, are you going to just stand there and look pretty, or are you going to apologize," he asked, going behind his desk and taking a seat, now glancing at Seven.

"Uh- apologize for?" Seven turned around, making eye contact with him. His azure-colored eyes were bright from the lighting that came from all around the room. They were almost sky-blue, with a dark abyss in the middle of them.

"For putting the company's name in a critical state after leaving your WebBaze meeting." He lifted an eyebrow, twirling somewhat on his chair.

"Uh- I had my reasons..." Seven softly stated.

"Hm." Joseph shook his head, tapping his pointer finger on the marble desk, waiting for Seven to speak.

"I'm here to speak about-"

"Does your boss know you're here?" Joseph asked, interrupting him.

Seven's stomach turned as his throat closed up, feeling the sudden need to throw up, "Uh- no... no he doesn't."

"Hm." He hummed again.

Seven pressed his lips together, gazing down at his feet, "Mr. Anderson has nothing to do with this meeting. I came here on my own decision."

"Is that right?" Joseph responded, now keeping his chair steady as he leaned into the desk, "So, what exactly are you here for then, Ochoa?"

Seven held his chin high, feeling the attention of the chairman pushing him down. His head lightened, preventing him from picking words to say. He didn't know what to say... or how to say it. That confidence that he once had was now torn down into anxiety. He formed his hands into fists, his nails clawing at his palm as he spoke, "I wanted to tell you to cancel the wedding tomorrow."

Joseph scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the sudden comment, "You're... you're telling me?" He rocked his head, eyeing the window beside him, seeing the sunny day that brightened his face, "Boy, I want you to pick your words correctly. This wedding has nothing to do with you." He turned to Seven, tilting his head and squinting at him as if he were trying to look for something, "How highly do you think of yourself to believe that I would hear you speak about my business?"

Seven's breathing stopped for a moment, parting his lips, taking a huge exhale as if he held his breath.

There it was again.

The feeling from high school.

Being looked down on. Being told that he should stay in his place.

Moving states, he didn't think that feeling would follow him, but it started at the interview, when the other women eyed him, wondering why he was applying to places that weren't 'suited for him'.

Then the meeting with CompSkill where his body figure and name were mentioned as a sign of vulnerability. That feeling kept following him like it were on a leash and now... Joseph. Joseph was looking down on him and Seven's entire balance trembled.

*Why are assistants always looked down on?*

Seven inhaled deeply, thinking about his next words precisely. His brain repeated scenarios and the options that he had for this specific debate that he was about to have with the chairman.

*Why are you doing this?*

Usually, someone, like the chairman's assistant would think he was leading this meeting; That he was making the first move to appoint the chairman.

This thought scared Seven. He didn't want to drive the conversation... He shifted his perspective on the spot, now looking at the meeting as if he were advising the chairman.

*Yes.*

*Advising.*

*That's what I'm supposed to be doing.*

Seven raised his chin high, swallowing the last bit of anxiety that he held inside, "Your son doesn't want any part of this wedding, and threatening him with his job is an act of power abuse."

Joseph glared at the assistant, building the silence of the room. Suddenly, he banged on the desk, causing Seven's heart to jump out of his chest, "Who gave you the right to speak to me like that?" He shouted, standing up from his chair.

Seven noticed the veins on his temple now, acknowledging how angry that chairman was, "No one, sir. I'm simply advising you on-"

"On what, huh? On how to run MY company?" He shouted again.

Seven clutched his hands again, glaring at the chairman, "At how to father your son correctly!"

Joseph furrowed his eyebrows at the assistant that stood in front of him, "You're correcting my parental skills?"

Seven kept a stern look on the man, "Blaming him for your wife's death has traumatized him. Continuing to blame him has developed this... craving for forgiveness-"

"Enough-" Joseph interrupted, but could barely get a sentence out since Seven shouted, "YOU were the one behind the wheel, Mr. Anderson! Nicolas was a kid... You can't face the fact that you were the one behind the wheel and Nicolas had nothing to do with it!" Seven swallowed, now realizing how deep he was into the personal topic, not knowing how to get himself out, "He didn't kill your wife, Mr. Anderson. You killed his mother," the assistant spoke softly.

"Enough, Mr. Ochoa! Who gave you the right to-"

Seven grew irritated that his words weren't being acknowledged. All Joseph could bring up was why an assistant had any sort of positionality on the conversation. He groaned loudly, interrupting Joseph again, "Nicolas has been faithful to you for the longest time - not because he respects you, but because he believed that he WAS at fault... he aimed to hear your forgiveness, but all you gave him was guilt."

The room went mute. Joseph bit his lip, keeping his glare at the assistant. Seven gulped again, putting his hands behind his back comfortably, "Nicolas has a problem."

Joseph sighed as if he were already tired of the conversation, "What are you talking about?"

"He wants justification for something he didn't even do!" Seven tilted his head, turning to the window, dragging his black shoes on the carpet, "You know, Mr. Anderson, I'm getting ahead of myself here, but if you've realized sooner, he wouldn't have gotten so bad."

Joseph kept his sky-blue eyes on the assistant, "Realized what exactly?"

Seven mocked at the question, not surprised that the chairman had no idea what was happening with his son, "Nick needed to mourn his mother," he answered, turning back around again to scowl at the chairman, "He never got that chance, Mr. Chairman... because of you."

The chairman kept his gaze on the assistant, standing up slowly. He cleared his throat after a second of silence, "Are you done, Mr. Ochoa?" he coolly asked.

Seven's eyes widened at the change of expression in his face, not knowing what was going to come next. He nodded slightly, seeing Joseph smirk, "You're fired."

A weight pushed Seven's shoulders to the floor, hearing the words loud and clear. His breathing shortened, pressing his lips together.

He lost.

He knew Nicolas warned him about it, but the assistant had forgotten who he was talking to. He was too focused on his purpose of the meeting, distracted by his confidence.