Chapter Title: The Man Left Behind
While others felt determined to begin new chapters in their lives, Joseph's morning began with worry.
Real worry.
The kind that sat heavily in a person's chest and refused to move no matter how deeply they breathed.
The house felt unusually quiet.
No sarcastic comments from John.
No arguments about medication.
No complaints about breakfast.
Just silence.
Joseph stood near the front door dressed in a neatly pressed black shirt and dark trousers, his car keys hanging loosely in his hand. Beside him, Mary adjusted her maternity dress carefully, one hand resting protectively against her swollen stomach.
She was nearly eight months pregnant now.
Normally Joseph would have spent several minutes fussing over her, making sure she ate properly, drank enough water, and wasn't carrying anything heavy.
Today his mind was elsewhere.
The image of John unconscious in the hospital bed continued replaying in his head.
His phone suddenly rang.
The screen displayed the company headquarters.
Joseph answered immediately.
His expression darkened with every passing second.
By the time the call ended, he rubbed his forehead heavily.
"The news reached the company."
Mary immediately understood.
"The accident?"
Joseph nodded.
"The board is panicking."
"And the employees?"
"They're worse."
Mary sighed.
That was expected.
John was not only the company president.
He was also the face of Better Choice.
Many employees had worked under him for years.
Some admired him.
Some feared him.
Most did both.
Now rumors were spreading everywhere.
Investors were asking questions.
The media was already sniffing around.
And unfortunately, the vice president was currently overseeing operations at another branch several states away.
Meaning everything had fallen directly onto Joseph's shoulders.
Mary stepped closer.
Gently rubbing his hand.
The warmth immediately calmed some of the tension in his body.
"I'll go to the hospital."
Joseph looked at her.
"When you're done with work, join me there."
Her voice was calm.
Steady.
Comforting.
The same way Mia Bello used to speak whenever things became difficult.
Joseph nodded.
"Call me immediately if anything changes."
"I will."
"You promise?"
Mary smiled softly.
"I promise."
Joseph finally exhaled.
Then escorted her into the car.
The drive to the hospital was quiet.
Neither spoke much.
The morning traffic wasn't terrible for Lagos.
Vendors moved between vehicles selling bottled water, newspapers, and snacks.
Motorcycles weaved through gaps that looked impossible.
The city continued living normally.
Unaware that for Joseph, the world felt slightly broken.
When they reached the hospital entrance, he helped Mary out carefully.
She squeezed his hand.
"Take care of yourself too."
Joseph laughed dryly.
"I'll try."
She watched him drive away before turning toward the hospital.
Better Choice Headquarters
The moment Joseph stepped out of the elevator, the atmosphere changed.
Employees immediately straightened.
Conversations stopped.
Several managers exchanged nervous glances.
Everyone knew.
News always traveled faster than common sense.
People had already seen photographs of the accident online.
Some had seen videos.
Others had heard exaggerated versions.
Every story grew more dramatic than the last.
By the time Joseph arrived, rumors claimed John was dead, in a coma, paralyzed, or preparing to retire.
People were terrified.
Joseph walked through the executive floor with cold, controlled steps.
No smile.
No jokes.
No casual greetings.
Only silence.
Dangerous silence.
His eyes swept across the employees.
The effect was immediate.
Several workers quickly returned to their desks.
Others lowered their heads.
The fear wasn't because Joseph shouted.
It was because he rarely needed to.
When Joseph became serious, people listened.
The emergency board meeting began ten minutes later.
The large conference room was packed.
Directors.
Shareholders.
Senior managers.
Department heads.
Everyone looked anxious.
Questions exploded immediately.
"How severe are his injuries?"
"When is he returning?"
"What about upcoming negotiations?"
"What should we tell investors?"
"Will there be a public statement?"
Joseph stood at the head of the table.
Listening.
Waiting.
Allowing everyone to speak.
Then he raised one hand.
The room immediately fell silent.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Mr. John Bello is alive."
The tension reduced instantly.
Several executives visibly relaxed.
Joseph continued.
"He suffered injuries during a traffic accident."
Silence returned.
"He is currently receiving excellent medical treatment."
Nobody interrupted.
Nobody dared.
Joseph slowly looked around the room.
Making eye contact with each person.
One by one.
"While his injuries are serious, they are not life-ending."
The relief this time was obvious.
A few people even sighed openly.
But Joseph wasn't finished.
His expression hardened.
"Now listen carefully."
The room froze.
"Until further notice, all executive authority belongs to me."
Nobody objected.
Nobody was foolish enough.
Joseph placed both palms on the polished conference table.
"And if anyone believes Mr. Bello's absence creates an opportunity for personal ambition..."
His voice lowered.
"...I encourage you to resign immediately."
Several people stiffened.
"If I discover anyone delaying projects, manipulating contracts, stealing funds, spreading rumors, sabotaging departments, or causing disorder..."
His eyes became cold.
"I will remove you personally."
The room felt frozen.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed loudly.
Joseph smiled.
The smile somehow made everything worse.
"And unlike John..."
His gaze sharpened.
"I am significantly less patient."
A director near the end swallowed nervously.
Joseph continued calmly.
"We are not collapsing."
"We are not slowing down."
"We are not changing direction."
"Better Choice existed before this accident."
"It will continue after it."
The confidence in his voice spread through the room.
People straightened unconsciously.
Fear remained.
But so did reassurance.
The meeting continued for nearly two hours.
Financial reports.
Department reviews.
Pending projects.
Investor concerns.
Logo department complaints.
That last one nearly gave Joseph another headache.
The amount of evidence against several managers was ridiculous.
Unauthorized spending.
Missed deadlines.
Falsified reports.
Poor supervision.
By the time the meeting ended, two managers had been suspended.
One was fired.
Three formal investigations were opened.
Nobody questioned his decisions.
Outside the conference room, employees quickly noticed something.
Joseph was handling everything.
Every issue.
Every complaint.
Every signature.
Every decision.
Without hesitation.
Without rest.
Without lunch.
The entire morning disappeared beneath mountains of paperwork.
His office desk soon looked almost identical to John's.
Files.
Contracts.
Financial statements.
Investigation reports.
Coffee cups.
Sticky notes.
Stress.
Lots of stress.
By eleven-thirty, a headache had settled firmly behind his eyes.
He rubbed his forehead.
Then continued working.
His phone suddenly rang.
The screen displayed:
Precious.
For the first time that morning, Joseph's expression softened.
He answered immediately.
"Hello."
"Joseph!"
Her cheerful voice echoed through the phone.
Instantly lifting some of the pressure weighing on him.
"How's Spain?"
"Beautiful."
"I hate you."
She laughed loudly.
The sound eased some tension from his shoulders.
She quickly updated him.
Costume designs.
Film locations.
Casting discussions.
Production meetings.
Everything related to Twinkle Twinkle was progressing smoothly.
Then her voice softened.
"How's John?"
Joseph leaned back in his chair.
Tired.
Exhausted.
Worried.
" unconscious for now."
The silence lasted briefly.
Then Precious spoke.
"He'll wake up."
Joseph smiled faintly.
The certainty in her voice reminded him of Mary.
Of Grandma Mia.
Of people who simply believed.
"I know."
"Tell him I said hello when he wakes up."
"I will."
After ending the call, Joseph sat quietly.
Staring at the office ceiling.
Just for a moment.
Allowing himself to breathe.
By exactly twelve noon, he finally remembered something important.
Food.
He hadn't eaten.
Not once.
Not even coffee.
His stomach growled aggressively.
Joseph blinked.
Then laughed despite himself.
"Great."
Now even his organs were filing complaints.
He headed toward the executive cafeteria.
The room was calmer than usual.
Employees immediately stopped whispering when they saw him.
Joseph ignored them completely.
He grabbed a tray.
Plain oatmeal.
Boiled eggs.
Fruit.
Tea.
The kind of healthy meal Dr. Leo would approve of.
Which meant it tasted suspiciously like punishment.
Joseph sat alone near the window.
The city stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
Cars moved.
People worked.
Life continued.
Yet his thoughts remained in a hospital room.
A breathing monitor.
White bandages.
Blood transfusions.
And a stubborn young man who never knew when to stop carrying the world on his shoulders.
Joseph rubbed his aching forehead.
The logo department file sat beside his tray.
Waiting.
Threatening.
Mocking him.
He stared at it.
Then at his breakfast.
Then back at the file.
His eye twitched.
"John."
He sighed deeply.
"Wake up soon or I might end up joining you ."
Because for the first time in years, Joseph realized something terrifying.
The company could survive without John.
The business could survive.
The board could survive.
Even the investors could survive.
But Joseph wasn't entirely sure he could.