Chapter 1 Make It Work

• LEONA CHASE.
• "Where is my son?" I asked the first staff my eyes laid on when I stepped into my son’s house.
• "He's in his studies but..." she attempted to say more, but I was already heading towards the stairs, my heels clicking elegantly against the floor.
• As I walked through the long hallway, I reached the door that led to his studies and pushed it open.
• Inside, he was engrossed in his work, as usual. He didn’t bother to look up from his laptop as I entered, completely ignoring my presence. With a sigh, I made my way to his desk.
• "I am not to be disturbed... mom," his voice echoed in the room.
• "Shut up, son. I'm not here for one of your 'let me be' dramas," I took a seat opposite him.
• My son was a hothead, even worse than his father. Sometimes, I wondered how I could have raised such a cold demon as a son.
• "Jordan," I called. He didn’t even give me a reply.
• "Jordan Chase Henry, look at me right now!" I slammed my hands on the desk, finally drawing his attention.
• He lifted his eyes slowly, his tone tinged with anger. "Yes?"
• "Don't speak to me like that, young man" I scolded, my patience wearing thin.
• Ignoring my frustration, he demanded, "What do you want?"
• "I haven't seen you in ages, and this is how you greet me?" I nagged, but he remained unmoved.
• "Mom, I have more important things to deal with. Get to the point," he cut in dryly, shutting down any attempt at conversation.
• I sighed, relenting. "The properties your grandfather left will be seized by the government if you don't claim them by next week."
• "What properties?" he asked, seemingly oblivious.
• "Jordan," I exclaimed in disbelief. How could he have forgotten something so important?
• "The properties your grandfather left you," I repeated, exasperated.
• "Okay," he said, turning back to his laptop.
• "Wait... what?" My disbelief was beyond imagination.
• "The government will take over these properties in two weeks, and..."
• "Let them have it. I need to work," he said rudely.
• "Do you realize the amount of money you're throwing away?" I yelled, losing my composure.
• Those properties were like a treasure island, which was precisely why the government coveted them.
• "Your grandfather left those properties to you; you have to gain access to them. Your company needs this property; you can't..." He banged his hands on the table, interrupting me. My heart skipped a beat; I knew what was coming next.
• "I am not ready to get married," he declared coldly. I sighed, rubbing my temples. Talking to my son had never been easy.
• "You're 28 years old; how can you not be ready for marriage?" I said in a calmer tone, knowing fully well that raising my voice would only irritate him. I had to handle him delicately to get my way.
• "Jordan, you need to get married to gain access to those properties and more," I added when he give me no reply.
• Still, he remained quiet and kept doing what he was doing with his laptop.
• "You do realize that once you get these properties, you'll be at the top of the chain. It would take years for your rivals to catch up, and by then, you must have risen globally," I spoke in the language he understood best: business, and he paused. I got his attention and I wasn’t ready to let if off my grip.
• "The government has been fighting tirelessly for these properties because they understand their value. Are you going to throw it all away?" I pressed.
• "You've worked day and night, striving to be number one all by yourself. Don't you want that anymore? Don't you want to be known outside of San Francisco?" I added.
• "Don't you want to achieve your dreams before it's too late?" I struck a nerve, and his jaw clenched. My heart ached at the painful reminder, but I had to use it to get through to him.
• "I can't spend the rest of my life with just anybody," he said firmly.
• A smile tugged at my lips; I knew I had gone past the first stage. The rest would be easy; I had everything planned out before coming to his house. My son might be difficult, but I knew exactly how his mind worked.
• "You don't have to spend the rest of your life with just anybody. I'm your mother; I'll pick a girl you'll like," I reassured him, but he shook his head.
• "You can't just pick any girl. I'll divorce her within two days," he countered, and I pressed my lips together.
• "Son..." I began, locking eyes with him.
• "Your grandfather made sure you wouldn't dupe him to get his properties. Whoever you marry, you must stay with her for five years," I reminded him, but as usual, there was no reaction.
• "But I can find a girl you'll be with for five years; just trust me," I pleaded, hoping he wouldn't change his mind. He remained silent, keeping me in suspense.
• I waited for so long that I started tapping my fingers lightly on the desk. I was scared of talking so I wouldn’t ruin things. Jordan could be very unpredictable most of the time.
• "Samantha Brandon," he said at last. A frown settled on my face and the deal or plan I had came crumbling down before my eyes.
• "I can only marry Samantha Brandon and no one else," he declared, leaving me gaping.
• "That's impossible; she was your ex-girlfriend and she rejected your marriage proposal, she..."
• "Make it work, Mom. Get me married."
• ~
• The way things turned out totally dumbfounded me. When I came out of Jordan’s house, my security detail were already standing by and waiting. I stepped in the car and the convoy started moving. My mind was troubled with the discussion I had with Jordan.
• I wanted something good for my son, that’s why I was persuading him to get married as his grandfather wished, so that he could get those properties.
• Which was an absurd wish to begin with. I didn’t understand why he was adamant in getting Jordan married before he could get access to properties that were his rights. How could getting married be a criteria to having what was his?
• As we drove along, I suppressed the urge to groan aloud. Things were not going as I had planned. I never knew Jordan still had his eyes on Samantha, and even if he did, it was absurd to want her as a wife after so many years. According to society, she was the best daughter-in-law for a mother such as myself, but then again, I didn’t like her that much. She had the name, the reputation, plus we were pretty close friends with her family, but that was it. Samantha was a spoiled brat, emitting negative energy, and there was something about her attitude and eyes that gave warning signals.
• I fetched my phone out of my bag, and dialed my personal assistant’s number.
• “Get me in touch with Samantha Brandon. I need to know her whereabouts immediately,” I said to her the moment she picked up her phone. “And keep the private jet ready for me. I might be leaving town soon,” I added.
• “Yes, ma’am,” she said immediately.
• I barely had time to end the call when the convoy abruptly screeched to a halt, jerking us forward.
• "What's going on?" I asked the bodyguard beside me impatiently.
• The security detail got out of the car one after another to check.
• I heard cries for help from outside, so I also got out of the car.
• A middle-aged man was holding an unconscious girl, standing in the middle of the road. Next to him was a middle-aged woman, her face full of anxiety.
• Seeing that they were so reckless and disregarded life, I suppressed my anger, "Are you really begging for death?” As soon as the woman saw me, she seemed to recognize who I was, and was frightened. She timidly pulled on the man's sleeve.
• I already get used to people fearing me as the wife of the former head of state.
• “You can't just jump into a busy road like a mad man. Has your poverty-stricken self blinded you enough to not understand the difference between life and death, you almost.......... "
• “Ma’am, I am so sorry. My child is dying, I need to get her to a hospital,” the man said immediately, interrupting my outburst and ignoring the insult I gave them. He had bruises on his head and legs. Yet it seemed all he thought about was the little girl in his arms.
• “What’s wrong with her?” My voice softened with concern as my eyes dashed towards the sick girl.
• “She... she...” He stuttered.
• “Get into the car.” I ordered immediately without waiting for any response.