Oliver King

Chapter One

    It was a cloudy summer day in New York City. The weather neither too hot, nor too cool. The residents were awaiting a thunderstorm that was on the edge of the city. The dark clouds loomed over the tops of the skyscrapers, just barely grazing the tops of the tall, steel buildings. Oliver King sat in a leather recliner chair on the top floor of his company's office.
    The glass wall allowed Oliver to view any point of the city from the perimeters of his private office. The storm ahead didn't bother him in the slightest, he would have limos and umbrellas at his dispense, provided that he needed to leave the building at all. The man sat at his wooden desk, finishing the small stack of contracts that needed to be signed by the end of the day. He didn't even read the papers, just skipped right to the dotted line and signed his signature. Nothing could touch him, and if something happened in the contract, he would just sign a check to have it "disappear".
    He was alone on the top floor, which he enjoyed immensely. The secluded room at the top of the skyscraper was a safe haven for him, a place to escape from all the paparazzi that littered the streets of Manhattan, making a living off of exposing the rich and famous for a few extra dollars. Oliver heard a noise coming from the elevator on the opposite side of his workplace. Footsteps made their way over to the plush couches centered in the room.

    "Christopher," Oliver greeted without looking up from his work. The only people allowed to use the private elevator were his wife and his brother-in-law.

    "Oliver, busy with work? You have the press waiting on the 6th floor. You should make your way down as soon as you finish your paperwork," Christopher, Oliver's brother-in-law, stated.

    "I already spoke with them on Tuesday," Oliver started, his voice monotone.

    "Yes, but I think you may want to be there for this press release. It's important."

    "Christopher, just tell them I'm busy. Nothing with the press is ever important."

    "Well, you can sit up here, untouchable and cold hearted, or you could show the public you care enough to at least ride the elevator to greet them."

    Oliver gave in.
    When Christopher's father passed away, he was supposed to take his rightful place as owner of Providence Inc., named only after Lucas, the previous owner, took a liking to irony. Lucas was a very successful businessman who always seemed to find joy in the hilarity of unexpected events. In his lifetime, every time he encountered an obstacle, it was something that crept up upon him. He found the word "providence" to be very complex. Providence is linked to karma and destiny, two words that always puzzled the man. He thought that by naming his company after a word originated with good luck, nothing horrible or devastating would ever happen to the company... Or Ii would just make for a great cover page on the New York Times.
    Lucas was struck dead in a car crash in the summer of 2002 on the way to a business meeting in Chicago, and it just so happened that Oliver was on his way to New York. The older man was traveling with a few of his sales companions and his assistant only for them to be killed altogether... Except for his intern.
The summer and fall of 2002 was the time for Oliver's rise to greatness. His resume was extensive and awarded him the position of CEO at Providence Inc. which handed him the keys to a brand new Tesla, to replace the one he'd wrecked, and a wedding to Joanna Thebes, Lucas's previous wife.
    Joanna was considerably older than Oliver by about by about fifteen or so years, but had enough cosmetic surgery to make her appear younger. She had been rich her entire life. She was born into a very wealthy family and married a rich man, thus securing her bank account and gave her millions of dollars just as pocket change. The older woman kept her hair long and loosely curled, making sure she never missed her weekly hair appointment. Her eyelashes curled, her acrylic nails were always a polished light pink, and her posture was nothing but perfect. You couldn't tell what she was thinking at any given moment because her green eyes were veiled and revealed no emotion, making her perfect celebrity-material. She loved the spotlight. From walking down the streets of Manhattan just to get photographed to showing up to red carpets in expensive designer gowns, she always made a grand appearance.
    Oliver made his way towards the elevator with Christopher in his wake. The ride down to the 6th floor, despite having one of the fastest elevators in all of New York, felt excruciatingly painful. Oliver, having an ego the size of the moon, always thought that Christopher was out to get him. Oliver had the money, the job, the girl, and what did Christopher have? An apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and a golden retriever to keep him company. Joanna loved her brother dearly, which was really the only reason why Oliver kept him around. If he had it his way, Christopher would be living on the opposite side of the country, maybe even the world.
Reporters, cameramen, and political cartoon artists crowded the floor, with their microphones pointed towards the 45-year-old CEO.