The Dumb Heir

The door swung open and Rudy announced, "Here come Mr. Bossman and Henry."

Mrs. Comfort, who had arrived a little later, scanned the room and sensed that the atmosphere was tense. She asked, "Is everything okay?" but Rudy's immediate response was a curt "No".

As if on cue, Simon jumped up from his seat and said, "Mrs. Comfort, please, sit down." The room had grown quiet, with no one bothering to offer their guests a glass of water or inquire about their day.

Jerry, always direct, cut to the chase. "Mr. Bossman, how much is left in the company account?" he asked, his eyes fixed intently on the man.

Mr. Bossman hesitated before responding, "One trillion, I think." Mrs. Johnson's eyes widened in shock, and Jerry pressed on, "Even that? The auditor and you need to explain how two trillion shrunk to one."

Both Mr. Bossman and the auditor exchanged a nervous glance, their faces pale. "Two trillion?" they said in unison, their voices barely above a whisper.

Jerry's anger was palpable as he turned to Simon. "Why are you such a blatant liar?" he demanded.

Mrs. Johnson, emboldened by Jerry's outburst, stood up and said, "Leave this house and go to your mansion. Let us have some peace in this house."

But Simon remained calm, almost serene. He countered with a question, "When did the company account become a family account?" His words cut through the tension like a knife, leaving the room in stunned silence.

Their eyes wide with realization, Jerry and Mrs. Johnson seemed to come to their senses at the same time. Simon, still composed, stood up and said, "Hmm, let me grab a bottle of wine to calm our nerves." He walked over to the bar, his movements smooth and deliberate.

As he poured himself a glass, Jerry turned to Mrs. Comfort and asked, "Mrs. Comfort, how much is left in the family account?"

Mrs. Comfort's voice trembled slightly as she replied, "Fifteen million on one side and ten million on the other." Mrs. Johnson shook her head, took a step back, and collapsed onto the couch, her face ashen. Rudy's mouth hung open, her eyes wide with shock. But Simon, sipping his wine, seemed almost amused by the drama unfolding around him.

Jerry stood confidently in front of Mrs. Comfort, his bossman, and Henry, who were all seated and listening attentively. He spread his arms wide, his palms facing upwards, as if to emphasize the magnitude of what he was about to reveal. 

"So, Mrs. Comfort, just to clarify," Jerry began, his voice firm but polite. "When you say the family has $25 million in the bank, you're referring to the family trust, not individual accounts, right?" He paused, his eyes locked onto Mrs. Comfort's. "I mean, the family trust, not the individual accounts," he repeated, as if to ensure he was understood.

Mrs. Comfort's expression turned slightly apologetic, and she leaned forward, her hands clasped together. "Sorry, Jerry, I think there's still some confusion here. Let me explain it again," she said, her voice gentle but firm.

Jerry's face remained calm, but a hint of frustration flickered in his eyes. "No, no, Mrs. Comfort, I just want a straight answer," he pressed on, his hands still open and gesturing.

Mrs. Comfort nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Okay, then. The family account, which includes both investment and non-investment funds, currently stands at $25 million," she stated, her words clear and concise.

Bossman and Henry exchanged a look, their faces filled with interest and curiosity. They had been listening intently, trying to follow the conversation, but they still didn't know the tail end of the story, nor its beginning. 

Jerry's eyes narrowed slightly, as if processing the information. "So, you're saying that the family trust has $25 million, and that's the figure we're working with?" he asked, his voice seeking confirmation.

Mrs. Comfort nodded, her expression unwavering. "That's correct, Jerry. The family trust account has $25 million, which includes both investment and non-investment funds."

The room fell silent as Jerry's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean by 25 million?" he asked, his voice laced with incredulity. Mrs. Comfort, the bank manager, replied with a calm and collected tone, "Data never lie, Mr. Jerry."

Jerry's face scrunched up in confusion as he tried to process the information. He looked like he was struggling to connect the dots. Suddenly, his expression turned stern, and he slammed his fist on the table. "How can a trillion dollars dwindle down to 25 million? This is not acceptable, Mrs. Comfort!" he shouted.

Just then, Simon, Jerry's younger brother, chimed in, "Actually, it's 1.5 trillion." Jerry's eyes darted to Simon, and he burst out laughing. "So now you are conspiring to steal the family investment too?" he accused.

Rudy, their sister, looked equally perplexed. She turned to Simon and asked, "Simon, how can the 500 million investment just... disappear? That money is not to be touched, no matter what."

Simon set his wine glass down and turned to Mrs. Comfort. "Mrs. Comfort, my sister is asking you a question," he said, his voice calm and measured.

Mrs. Comfort nodded and pulled out her tablet, attempting to explain the situation. But Jerry cut her off, his anger boiling over. "You can't just plan and try to fool us! I must call the minister about this. We are not here to play games!" he angrily declared.

Simon's eyes flashed with irritation. "Stop the disrespect and listen to what she has to say, Jerry," he retorted.

Jerry snorted. "Listen to her cooked, massaged figures? You expect me to believe that?" he chuckled derisively.

The tension between the two brothers was palpable. Simon's face darkened, and he shot back, "Yes, the cooked figures are what's left for you."

Jerry's expression turned stubborn. "I will never buy into such concocted lies from her," he said, his words cutting Mrs. Comfort. She looked like she'd been slapped, and Simon raised his hand in assurance.

"You're calling a noble woman a corrupt madam, right?" Simon accused, his voice rising.

Jerry repeated, his tone unwavering, "Yes, if not, then why merge the 500 million investment into the trillion-dollar account?"

Simon's eyes locked onto Jerry's. "Why don't you ask your mother how that investment was lost?" he suggested, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

The room seemed to hold its breath as the brothers' banter reached a boiling point. Mrs. Comfort looked on, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration, as she tried to intervene. "If I may just.."

But Jerry and Simon were too far gone, their argument escalating into a heated exchange.

The scene unfolded with Jerry, his eyes flashing with defensiveness, as he tried to protect his mother, Mrs. Johnson. "Is my mom now the teller?" he jabbed at Simon, his tone laced with hostility.

Simon, however, was not fazed by Jerry's outburst. Instead, he revealed a bombshell that left the room reeling. "No, she is not a teller, but the access you granted her to the money made her redraw the $500 million to stake a bet, so asked her," Simon said, his words dripping with a mix of disappointment and frustration.

Rudy turned to her mother, seeking clarification, and asked, "Mom?" Her voice was laced with concern, and her eyes were fixed on Mrs. Johnson, who had yet to speak.

Jerry's eyes widened in shock, and his face contorted in disappointment as the truth began to sink in. Simon, sensing Jerry's distress, pressed on, his words cutting deep. "Why are you still standing? Your mother staked the family investment for a bet. This same mother redraws a million dollars daily from the bank. So asked her what she used the money for."

The room fell silent, with all eyes fixed on Mrs. Johnson, who seemed to be shrinking under the weight of her secrets. Simon turned to Mrs. Comfort, his expression somber, and apologized on behalf of his late father. "Mrs. Comfort, I apologize. Please, let go."

Mrs. Comfort, her expression softening, accepted the apology. "It's okay, Simon. I knew how just you are. I may take my leave." She gathered her belongings, picking up her tablet and eyeglasses, and began to exit the scene.

As Simon followed her, he turned back to the room and declared, "I'm proud that I took not a single dollar from the money." His eyes locked onto Mrs. Johnson, and he added, "Hope you now got what you want? Thank you for sending your own children back to poverty." With that, he left the room, leaving behind a stunned Jerry and a silent Mrs. Johnson.

Jerry's voice cracked as he turned to his mother, pleading for the truth. "Tell me this isn't true." The room remained frozen, with Mr. Henry and Mr. Bossman exchanging a charged glance. Finally, Mr. Henry broke the silence, his voice firm but gentle. "Let go."