Everything was unfolding just as Jacob had anticipated. Sanderson was still clinging to the sweet dream that Jacob was the dutiful son, easily manipulated by his father.
"Looks like you hit a nerve; he's been blowing up your phone," his assistant remarked. "Even called me, wondering why you weren't at the office."
"Let him stew," Jacob said as he strode confidently towards his car.
What could Sanderson possibly need him for now? The most pressing issue at hand was the investigation by the Financial Crimes Unit.
Sanderson's name wasn't on the list, but he was the puppet master behind every scene.
After the shareholders' meeting, Jacob hadn't set foot in the office for three days, socializing from dawn till dusk, meeting with every heavyweight in town.d2
Truth be told, when compared to Graham, Jacob's name carried more weight.
Slowly but surely, the old leader was stepping down, making way for the sprouting new generation to take the reins of major corporations.
Among this new breed, if you had to pick the two most beloved figures.
Jacob was certainly one, and the other was Wayne.
But Jacob was different from Wayne, who ruled with an iron fist and audacity.
Jacob's currency was his social prowess.
Over the years, he had become a conduit, silently orchestrating collaborations among the scions of wealth and privilege.
Whenever there was an irreconcilable conflict between families.
Mr. Strand would set the stage, inviting both parties to break bread, indulge in small talk, and share a drink. With mutual interests at play, resolutions were swiftly found.
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