chapter 60

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Han Group of Companies

Main Office Building

The five missed calls on his phone disrupted Jeihral from focusing on the current subject in front of the boardroom. He checked for new messages. The calls were from his father, confusingly. For a second, Jeihral hesitated calling back.

Maybe his father just needed him to check on some stuff—sign some paperwork, handle another disgruntled client of the bank, or read through some policy manuals that needed revising. It was his usual Monday morning, and Jeihral knew he'd better show up in his old man's office fast. Or else.

It was why most of Mr. Eugene Han's underlings called him "The Don". Everybody heeded The Don's every word.  Jeihral didn't always appreciate the way people bowed down to his father, but, around here, it was the norm.  For as long as he could remember, Mr. Han easily had all of his subordinates wrapped around his little finger. His father was just that influential. Within these heavily built concrete walls, The Don's word was the law.

The sleep-inducing voice of the meeting's speaker distracted Jeihral's train of thought.  He glanced at the presentation slides in front of them, mostly bar graphs and numbers, and tried to remember why his presence in this meeting was necessary.  Jeihral tried his best not to yawn.

The balding men around him caught his attention next, his seatmates amounting to fifteen this time.  Why the unusually perfect attendance?

Oh.  Right.  It was time to show off the annual income report.  Only money talk got these old grumps out of their multi-million dollar mansions and private properties.  Of course they would all show up for today's important board meeting.  Money was everything to these folks.

Jeihral studied the older men's neatly pressed suits and graying facial hair.  All of them were decades older than him.  Nothing new.  He was used to being the junior in these meetings.

"Jeihral the newbie", the novice, the rookie who had too much to learn...

He frowned as he listened to the speaker in front, Gerald Han, his uncle.  According to the slides,  their list of bank clients grew almost double the past year.  The quarterly profits of their real estate development business also forced a few satisfied nods out of their hard-to-please audience.

Out of boredom,  Jeihral glanced to the only younger guy in the room.  Daniel remained silent while seated by the corner of the long, expensive conference table.  Daniel, his cousin and the speaker's only child, barely looked at the slides.

For a minute or two, Daniel would listen to his father yapping about profit margins and variances in front of the board of directors.  At the moment Daniel pretended to be busy with the tablet he had been staring at since the meeting started.  At times, Daniel would grin at something on the screen.

Probably just sexting with his girlfriend again, Jeihral thought as he held in a quiet laugh.  A minute later, his phone buzzed in his pocket.  Jeihral saw his father's name on the screen.  Without excusing himself, he stepped out of the uninvitingly cold conference room and took the call. "Yeah, Dad?" he greeted with a frown.

"Where are you?" The Don's tone denoted impatience.

As per usual. "Fifth floor boardroom, Sir."

"What're you still doing in there? Get up here." His father ended the call abruptly.  The big boss probably remembered Jeihral often drowsed off during board meetings.

If ever the Chairman would allow it, Jeihral would skip the boring weekly meetings and do real work instead. "What now..." Jeihral mumbled to himself in a singsong tone, suspecting his father was in the mood to berate him again.

He stood inside the cold elevator to get to the 25th floor where his father's office was, and then rechecked his phone. No new messages.  Great. It seemed his girlfriend wanted him to beg again.

It had been an hour or two—she still hadn't sent back a reply. His previous message must've upset her, since he'd used work again as his excuse. He just wasn't looking forward to going out to dinner with her tonight.

Upon reaching the huge wooden doors to his dad's office, Jeihral inspected the clean print label on the hardwood.

"EUGENE T. HAN, MBA, CEO V"

"CHAIRMAN — HAN GROUP OF COMPANIES"

It was what the lower part said. Some of the silver letters, he'd noticed up close, had lost their shine. Maybe housekeeping had been taking longer day-offs.

He stepped into the Chairman's roomy private office. "Your door sign needs polishing." He shut the heavy doors behind him. Jeihral had high respect for his father on many facets, but he never cared for courteous greetings whenever he faced the non-smiling don on early mornings.

"What? Get over here." Mr. Han didn't bother to glance at the door to acknowledge him.

"You're not attending the meeting?"  Jeihral asked the don as he sat in front of the wide mahogany desk. Piles of paperwork that needed reviewing and signing waited patiently for his father's attention. Probably been the case for a month or two. Some piles looked old enough to pay rent.

It wasn't their fault;  lately his father seemed to only enjoy vacationing out of the country with his old friends, mostly divorced.  Perhaps the casinos there were way more entertaining.  "What's taking them so long to wrap it up?"  Mr. Han scowled.

"Your dear brother's hundred-page slideshow," Jeihral muttered with a grin. He turned serious again when the don kept reading more paperwork before scribbling his signature above each dotted line. The old man badly needed another secretary.

Too bad Mr. Han didn't want another one.  Eugene Han signed another sheet of paper before rolling up the long sleeves of his wrinkled white shirt. Behind him, his dark coat haphazardly hung onto  his swivel chair's headrest.

"Darlene sort those yet?"  Jeihral asked. His father's secretary should have the desk cleared up before six in the evening.

That's if the big boss bothered to sign everything that needed to be signed. Quite a big 'if' these days.  "Can't you tell?" Mr. Han frowned at him.

"Oh,"  Jeihral sighed while he watched his father scanned through a bunch of papers from their bank. He could tell they were from the bank. The blue and green logo on the documents told him so.

"If only there was someone who cared enough to help," the don grumbled with another scowl.

"Why'd you call me up again?" Jeihral asked with creased brows. Were they going to talk shop this early?

Besides losing in golf and polo tournaments and to their competitions in the industry, the one thing his father seemed to hate was talking business with him. Not exactly the case, but, according to his father, he didn't care enough to be involved with their family businesses.

It didn't quite ring true.  Well, at least to his ears.  Being Deputy CEO for the past year just took up most of his time and energy. Every day, all week, every week.  Jeihral just didn't have the patience or time to deal with the other management issues.

Jeihral scratched his forehead at the thought.  Sitting through meetings after meetings just wasn't his thing.  He liked to act quick and get the job done fast;  he wasn't one to dwell on to-do lists, strategy planning and such. "Mr. Ongchua's in the conference room, wants to talk with you after," Jeihral informed the big boss after checking the Rolex on his wrist.  The meeting probably wouldn't end earlier than lunchtime.

"Find out how much this company owes us in total, starting from '98." Mr. Han handed him a full folder of documents.

More bank statements?  Jeihral took the folder and frowned briefly.  Upon checking the contents of the folder, he made a mental note to never ask the boss about the paperwork on his desk.  Because now, the big boss decided he could use a little extra workload this morning.  Jeihral sighed.  "Have Darlene work on it, Dad. I got another bidding to attend to."

"If she had the time, you think I'd bother to call you up?" the don retorted with furrowed brows again.

Alright, then. His dad was in a mood. Clearly stressed and overworked.  "Just hire another secretary."

"Yeah. 'Cause the last time we tried, it turned out great." Mr. Han scoffed. "Darlene doesn't have the time to train."

"Raish Trading?"  Jeihral reclined and reviewed the paperwork in the folder he held. Bank account statements, as he guessed. "Who owns this company?"

"Old friend. He's dead now."

"Old client of the bank?" Jeihral kept reading the bank statements. He even used a calculator to verify the figures.  He squinted and pulled a face.  "Whoa. Almost twenty million."

"Do a background check on the chief accountant, most likely the culprit." Mr. Han scoffed. "The widow called. We will meet with them tomorrow."

"The owner's wife?"  We? Who did he mean by "we"?  Jeihral wanted to protest. Why was his attendance necessary?  He was busy enough with his daily workload and he wasn't tasked with responsibilities involving their banking group. That was his Uncle Gerald's job. Well, his other job.  "Why do I have to be in the meeting?" Jeihral sighed.

"Did you really just ask me that?" Mr. Han pulled a face at the question.

Jeihral shrugged and dropped the confused frown.

"I'll do the niceties, then you smooth things over after Gerald and I are done with the Taiwanese investors." Mr. Han reclined in his big swivel chair while his hand stayed busy signing papers on his desk.

"You're making them pay the balance? ASAP?" Jeihral checked the account statements again. Almost immediately he came up with a sensible hypothesis.  "Their company's no longer generating enough income, and I doubt the collateral's gonna cut it."

"Nineteen point four million,"  Mr. Han replied while shaking his head. "The interest's just killing them. What I want you to investigate is why the widow and the daughter just found out about this."

"Who approved the contract?"

"Tiu. Before he retired," Mr. Han said with a half-grin. "I wonder how much his cut was."

"Well, can't say I'm surprised."  Jeihral drew out a long breath.  That old toad worshiped money like nobody else. It seemed Mr. Han was telling him to come up with a new loan payment agreement. "So, I'll talk to the owner's wife tomorrow? At the meeting?" He got up from his seat.

"Yes. With her daughter." Mr. Han scanned his hair and outfit.  "Dress nicely. Fix your hair; you look like a bum."  The don resumed signing some more paperwork. "Also, someone from NBP called."

What? NBP? Someone from the National Prison called?  "About what, Dad?"

"Forgot the guy's name. Ask Daniel. If it's about your cousin, get it sorted out. Call his lawyer today."

Lawyer? Did that mean something happened to his cousin in prison?  "You think...something happened to Kenji?"

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