Chapter 20
When Paul got back to the office, he and Marie went at it again–this time, things got physical. Shouting, shoving, papers flying. Right then, fate decided to play a joke: a group of clients and investors walked in and caught the whole mess in high definition. And if that wasn’t bad enough, one of the major shareholders ended up getting hurt and had to be taken to the ER.S
After witnessing the chaos, the clients just shook their heads and left. A few investors, red–faced with anger, announced right there and then that they were pulling out. The company basically exploded into a disaster zone.
With the investors gone and the clients dropping out, the cash flow dried up overnight. Suddenly there wasn’t enough money to buy materials, so construction sites stalled, projects left half–finished. The main contractor refused to pay the rest of what they owed, and the workers started protesting–some even threatening to take it to the roof in a very public way.
Alan was drowning in problems, running around trying to put out fires.
Watching the Clark Corporation spiral, Sam took a slow, satisfied sip of tea. At least now Alan would be too busy to bother his little sister.}
Desperate, Alan had to swallow his pride and beg people for favors, offering discounts and deals he’d never have considered before. After a ton of pleading, a few clients finally agreed to meet up and talk.
At dinner, one client set the table with every hard liquor you could imagine, giving Alan a look that was all challenge and no warmth. “Mr. Clark, if you can drink every drop on this table, maybe I’ll think about working with you again.“”
Alan’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t been this close to a bottle in ages. When the company first went public, he’d spent every night out with clients, reeking of alcohol, his stomach in shambles. Summer used to worry herself sick, even joining him at those dinners just to help take the pressure off. But she was gone now.
He closed his eyes, grabbed a bottle, and downed it. Then another, and another, tossing the empties aside as the client clapped and laughed. “That’s more like it, Mr. Clark!”
Eventually, Alan couldn’t take it anymore. He staggered to the bathroom, made himself throw up, then slumped down on the cool tile floor, face burning, head spinning.S
It brought back an old memory—him, just as wrecked, sitting on the floor. Back then, Summer had come in, gently cleaning him up, coaxing him to drink something to sober up. She’d looked at him with so much worry, so much care. Half–conscious, he’d tried to reach for her, to touch her face. But as soon as his hand brushed her cheek, she vanished–just a ghost of what he’d lost.
He snapped back to reality at the sound of banging on the door. His assistant’s worried voice called out, “Mr. Clark, are you okay? They said if you don’t come out now, the clients are leaving!”
Alan pulled himself up, barely steady. “Coming,” he said, even though his legs didn’t want to cooperate.
He stumbled down the hallway, vision blurry, and crashed right into someone. The guy he hit was in no mood–he let loose with a string of curses. just stupid? Do you even know who I am? You’ve got a death wish, man!”
Drunk and angry, Alan snapped. “Get lost!” he yelled, throwing a punch. The other guy called for backup, and suddenly there was a full–on brawl. The night ended at the police station.
“Are you blind or
“Mr. Clark, if you want out, you’ll need someone to come bail you out and sign for you,” the officer said, barely glancing up from his paperwork. Alan’s yelling didn’t even faze him.
Alan slumped onto the bench, pulled out his phone, and dialed the number he knew by heart. “Summer, I’m at the station. Can you come pick me up?”
But all he got was a robotic voice: “Sorry, the number you dialed is unavailable…”
He’d forgotten–Summer had blocked him ages ago.”
Out of options, Alan tried calling everyone else he could think of. But his “friends” wanted nothing to do with him after everything that had happened, and even the so–called brothers who’d once promised to have his back had ghosted him as soon as things got tough. His parents? Still in the hospital from the earlier disaster. He was completely alone.
All he could do was sit there on the cold metal bench and wait for morning.”
It wasn’t until sunrise that his exhausted assistant showed up to bail him out and start cleaning up the wreckage.
Alan collapsed into the backseat, rubbing his forehead. “Set up another meeting with the clients. I need to apologize, fix this–whatever it takes.”
But his assistant didn’t answer right away. Instead, a heavy silence filled the car.
Alan sat up, suddenly alert. “What’s wrong?“%
The assistant’s voice shook. “Mr. Clark… the company’s bankrupt.”
