Page 1 of Devilish Bully
THE CEO
LUCIAN
Welcome to Hell on Earth…
The digital screen in my executive lounge blazes fiery orange, my face burning at the center of the flames like a storybook villain.
I sip my coffee, waiting for the next insult.
Remember: NEVER make eye contact withSatan,our “beloved” CEO.
Now my face is slapped onto a serpent, above a collage of every person I’ve fired this year—all of them in matching T-shirts:Fuck Lucian Pearson.
On any other day, I’d probably find this amusing, but with a huge IPO looming, the last thing my staff should be doing is plastering this nonsense on every screen in my building.
I’m definitely firing whoever did this.
“You know…” My father stares at the screen, shaking his head. “When I was in charge of this company, I knew everyemployee by name. I knew when their kids’ birthdays were, and hell, I even got invited to all their weddings.”
“You had twenty employees—total, and your company was nothing like the one I’ve made it into today.”
“My employees loved coming to work, and they never compared me to Satan because I treated them like family.”
“Family on a payroll…”
“Your mom and I wanted them to be happy because happiness equals productivity. And when you add those things together, what do you get, son?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’ve never believed in that equation.”
“Clearly.” He crumples his cup and tosses it toward the trash bin.
He misses it—as always—and my assistant Brian picks it up and re-shoots.
“That was a very nice shot, sir.” He lies. “You’ve still got it!”
“I know.” He smiles. “I would’ve been in the NBA if I didn’t get into business.”
Right…“Brian, can you give him a tour of the conference level I renovated last month?”
“Don’t bother.” My father huffs. “I’ve seen enough of what you’ve turned my business into, and I’m sure it’s just as soulless as everything else.”
I grit my teeth.
“Isn’t being worth one billion enough, son?” He looks at me. “Do you really need to go public with an IPO to strive for even more money?”
I don’t say a word.
We’ve traveled down this road of conversation too many times before and our final destination is always Misunderstanding Lane or Animosity Avenue.
Somehow, he’s forgotten that he begged me to take over his company when he was bleeding money, when his “family”employees were taking his kindness for weakness and stealing millions right in front of his eyes.
Within five years of me taking over—after putting a lot of distance between me and the growing staff and taking a far more ruthless approach to “business”—Pearson Industries grew from a small upstate paper supplier to the top supplier in the country.
I still pay him and my mother CEO-level salaries even though they’ll never have to lift a finger for the rest of their lives.
“I’m worried that you’ll never find true happiness in life, Lucian.” My father is still talking. Unfortunately. “You barely have any friends, I never hear about you dating anyone, and your mother is worried we’ll never get any grandkids from you.”
Okay, that’s enough for the day. “I need to get to work, Dad. It was nice seeing you here uninvited. Again.”
