That night, Rose came into the room with a tray holding a small bowl of warm pap. “Daddy, please try to eat something,” she whispered.
Chief Williams looked at her, his eyes filled with a deep weariness, and said softly, “Thank you, Rose. You are the only one who stayed.”
She sat beside him and cried silently into her hands. “If anything happens to you, Daddy, I won’t ever forgive myself.” He weakly reached out and touched her hand.
The next day, Frank held another meeting at the company. “I have a brilliant new idea,” he announced. “We are going to launch a luxury fashion line. Clothes, bags, perfumes. I want it to be massive.”
One of the few remaining senior workers raised a hesitant hand. “But sir, we don’t have that kind of capital available right now.”
Frank laughed. “Then borrow it! I said do it. It’s still my father’s company, isn’t it?”
When David heard about this reckless new venture, he was furious. He left the office immediately and sped home.
He burst into his father’s room, finding Rose sitting by the bed, holding their father’s hand. “Rose, give us a minute,” he demanded.
“No,” she replied firmly. “Whatever you need to say, you can say it right here.”
David looked at his father, lying frail and silent on the bed. “Dad, Frank is ruining everything. He’s going to destroy the company.”
Chief Williams slowly opened his tired eyes, looked at David for a long, empty moment, and then deliberately turned his face away without a word. He was still pretending, still watching, still keeping his painful secret.
Days melted into weeks. Old Man Williams maintained his performance, pretending to be weak and terribly sick, confined to the same bed in his quiet room. Rose remained his constant shadow, feeding him, cleaning him, and telling him stories to pass the long hours.
But outside the sanctuary of that room, things were rapidly deteriorating. One morning, David sat on the balcony, his expression thunderous. He had just returned from another frustrating visit to the company.
“So Frank really thinks he can just take over everything? That he can waste everything our father worked for? I won’t just stand by and let that happen.”
The next day, David dressed in his finest suit and drove to one of his father’s most prestigious properties in the city, the Sunray Grand Hotel. The manager, Mr. Felix, was surprised to see him.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the manager said, quickly rising from his desk.
“I’m here to inform you that this hotel is for sale,” David stated bluntly.
“What?” Mr. Felix gasped. “Sir, with all due respect, this is one of the flagship hotels your father built. He was so proud of this place. Please, don’t sell it. This hotel means the world to him.”
David’s face hardened. “Are you questioning me? This is my father’s property. Are you joking? If you try to obstruct me in any way, I will have you sacked myself.”
Mr. Felix bowed his head, defeated. “I’m sorry, sir.” But his conscience wouldn’t let him rest.
As soon as David left, the manager picked up his phone and placed a discreet call to the family lawyer, Mr. John. “Hello, sir. Mr. David was just here. He intends to sell the hotel,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t feel right, sir. The Chief is still alive.”
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Felix,” Mr. John replied calmly. “I will handle it.”
The very next day, Mr. John dispatched a team of trusted associates to pose as anonymous buyers. When David finalized the sale, they collected the documents and immediately delivered everything to Mr. John. The lawyer locked the hotel papers away in his private safe, securing them for Chief Williams, whom he knew was only pretending.
But David wasn’t finished. He also sold one of the large, undeveloped plots of land their father had been holding onto for years. The exact same scenario played out. Mr. John arranged for his own people to purchase the land, and they turned all the documents over to him, which he promptly locked away in his safe.
David was pleased, thinking he had just made a massive personal profit. He had no idea that his father, through his lawyer, still owned both the hotel and the land.
Three days later, word of the sales reached Cynthia. She stormed into the living room, where David was sitting and watching TV.
“David!” she screamed. “You sold Daddy’s hotel and the land? Are you completely mad, David?”
David turned around, looking surprised by her venom. “Cynthia, don’t shout at me. I’m not a child.”
“You idiot!” she shrieked, and she slapped him hard across the face. “That land was meant for me! Don’t you ever sell anything again!”
David, stunned, slapped her right back. The two of them began physically struggling, grabbing at each other’s clothes. Chairs toppled over, flower vases shattered, and one of the housemaids ran to find Rose.
“Miss Rose, please come quickly! Your brother and sister are fighting!”
Rose ran into the room and saw Cynthia and David shouting and wrestling with each other. “What is wrong with you two?” she cried. “Why are you dragging our father’s property when he’s still very much alive?”
David shouted back, “Is he really alive? Look at him! He just lies there like a corpse every single day!”
Rose’s eyes filled with tears. “Daddy worked so hard to give us this life. Is this how you repay him? By fighting and selling off everything he built? Please, stop!”
Cynthia hissed and stormed out of the room. David, breathing heavily, stormed out in the other direction.
Two days later, Agatha, their mother, entered Chief Williams’ room. Her face was a mask of pure disgust.
“This room stinks like death,” she said sharply. “I can’t even breathe in here. Why does it smell like someone has already died?”
Williams let out a quiet cough and turned his face away from her.
Agatha just shook her head. “You are only sick, not dead yet. Clean yourself up and open these windows. Do you really think all of us are going to die in here with you just because you’re sick?”
She clapped her hands twice, sharp and loud. “Driver! Security!”
Rose rushed in. “Mommy, what’s going on?”
Agatha turned to her, her eyes cold. “I can’t stand this room anymore. Your father will sleep in the guest room from now on. Even a hospital doesn’t smell this bad.”
“But this is my father’s room!” Rose cried. “You can’t do this!”
“Shut up,” Agatha snapped. “I am still his wife. I decide what happens in this house.”
The driver and two security guards came in, looking confused and uneasy. “Carry him,” Agatha ordered. “Take him to the guest room. Now.”
“No! Don’t touch my father!” Rose shouted, standing defensively in front of the bed. But the guards moved forward slowly, caught between orders.
Williams remained perfectly quiet, still pretending to be too weak to move or even speak. As they lifted him gently, he looked around the room he had shared with his wife for decades, his heart heavy. He wasn’t sick, but the pain his family was inflicting on his soul felt worse than any disease…
