A cream-colored file slid across the streaks of oak-wood, halting before Nicholas in all its trembling glory, an ominous sign that the neatness beneath held a chaos far beyond his control.

Nicholas stared blankly at the pile before him, the scrambled white sheets that inked the statements he already predicted before, but his words fell idle to his father, a useless pitch that he refused to acknowledge.

Little did he know, Nicholas was right all along. "What's this?" he asked, curiously eyeing his father.

The older Muller sighed, collapsing onto his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose. "A failed contract between our company and a Chinese mobile enterprise."

"I figured."

His father's brows furrowed. "You don't seem too surprised."

"I'm not," he said, picking up the folder. Nicholas skimmed through the potential scams that were highlighted in the exposition of the contract, the breakdown of economics, and the jargon that hid ulterior motives. "Besides, I thought I warned you about his company before my..." he coughed awkwardly. "Wedding."

Electric blue eyes hardened at the string of words that seemed to burn the glaciers of parental love than anything else, cold, deceiving, and frigid. There was a tick in his jaw, muscle straining at the sensitive topic. "Now is not the time," he gritted out.

Maybe if you listened for once.

But Nicholas knew better than to poke a grizzly bear with a stick. His father's strained jaw only tightened at the glare his son gave him, his silent protest against his father's actions, a juvenile method yet still very effective. Nicholas enjoyed riling up his father, enjoyed pressing against the boundaries until he snapped.

With a calm, leveled voice, he said, "I told you about the loopholes in that contract before I left. I also made a memo to you about the background behind the Chinese corporation, so tell me, did you bring me out of my honeymoon for a pleasant scolding?"

"You should have been more assertive."

"Would you have listened?"

"Of course, I would," he insisted, lips thinning. "This company is far too important for me to just brush off any controversial matter. If there was a problem, you should have fought harder."

Anger bubbled from within Nicholas, coiling around him in rings of fury until all he saw was red, cruel and unforgiving wrath bursting through his veins. Oh Allah, grant me patience.

His father impatiently tapped his fingers against his desk, the sound drumming against his ear as painful sparks of the past blinded his eyes, memories fragmented and disarrayed. In his youth, never had Nicholas's parents ever believed him when he tried to defend his honor or if he tried to talk with them.

They only saw what they wanted, not what they needed to hear.

The first day he told his mother about his suicidal thoughts, she told him it was a "phase" and that he would grow out of it. The first day he told his father about his depression, he told him that he was "confused" and "lost," which was a greater reason for Nicholas to take his father's position and be the next heir of their family. It disgusted him, made a pit of flames burn into his stomach lining it with lethal poison.

All those years, he felt so sick, suffocated by their casual talk about his internal suffering, haunted by their laughter about his loss of vigor in life. The last couple of months as a Muslim were the brightest days of his life, the light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, he still had dark days, but he had a support system now.

Nicholas had a loving wife, caring in-laws, snarky best friends, and sympathetic professors. All these people impacted his life because he finally decided to use his voice, to let them carry hid burdens. Through his beliefs, Nicholas knew that he would never be alone in the world, not when Allah blessed him with so much.

It was a shame it took him so many years to see what was in front of him all along.

"Dad," he said sternly. "Please, don't disrespect me."

"Excuse me?"

"I can't control your actions. All I can do is recommend and advise for certain issues in business, which I did," Nicholas continued, ignoring the anger present on his father's visage, a growing fireball in his opinion. His father's nostrils flared at the mention of his mistake. "You can ask your secretary about my memos, and I know you read my notes about the contract because I delivered them to your desk before I left. Don't blame me for your mistakes."

He quirked a brow, masking the fury that circled his eyes. "And what mistake did I make?"

"Maybe next time you shouldn't think about the money first," shrugged Nicholas. "It's just a suggestion."

"Or maybe you should take this job I gave you seriously!" he snapped angrily, fingers rubbing at his temples. "Honestly, Nicholas. You've been wrapped around this... wedding of yours that you forgot about our business."

At this, Nicholas couldn't help but roll his eyes. Same story every day. "I told you before at the house that I would never put the company before my family, and I intend to stay true to that."

"What family? You only got married."

"And she is my family now," he stated fiercely. " I know you don't like my wife, and that's fine with me, but accusing her of being some sort of a distraction to me is unacceptable. You want to be a real CEO? Then maybe look at the fine print of contracts before you sign them."

The elder Muller was appalled by his son's quick retorts to his accusations, protecting his wife from any slander regardless of if it damaged him. The company lost quite a lot of money within that short weekend, and there seemed to be no way to bring the numbers back. The partnership was supposed to be a collaboration, but the contract extracted more money from their company than they expected with nothing of value being gained from it all.

"Okay," sighed his father. "I'll stop. What's done is done, but right now we need a way to increase our production and sales. The Chinese businessman has agreed to sit with us and negotiate a better deal."

"That's good."

"Do you have a plan?"

Nicholas smiled slyly. "I already took care of it for you."

"What?" asked his father, incredulously.

"I knew you were going to sign that contract regardless of what I said, so I arranged for our partnership and advertisement with them to be scheduled earlier instead of later. By doing this, we get our end of the bargain quicker."

"But we're still at a loss," argued the old man.

Nicholas nodded, lips pursued. "And who's fault is that?" he questioned. "If we do this, we at least get some money back and no employee will suffer a low paycheck for this month."

His father contemplated Nicholas's plan carefully, scrutinizing every aspect of it, but Nicholas knew that his father could find no fault in the plan. This was all a trap his father wanted to set up, and Nicholas was quick to realize that the company needed saving when the trap backfired. Although he didn't look the part, Nicholas was very skilled in management in their industry.

Abruptly standing up, Nicholas grabbed his coat and hanging it over his shoulder as he began to walk away.

"Wait, Nicholas!" called his father. "Where are you going?"

"I fixed your problem, and now I'm going back to my paid day off," he said nonchalantly, slamming the door shut.

His anxiety rose up during that entire stand off, but the second he was out, he released a heavy breath, heart finally slowing its beat.

Looks like confidence does have its perks.

----

Y'all I did an internship interview with a shirt that said, "It's funny how you think I'm listening." A complete accident.

But she didn't notice or she didn't care. ALHAMDULILAH THOUGH.

Anyway, do you think Nicholas will eventually take over his father's company?

I'm actually crazy tired, so I'll edit in the morning. Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow!