Chapter Fourteen
Steven sat back in his chair, reviewing his game plan while awaiting Eagle Triple Eye Securities' additional report on Rebecca's whereabouts. They had narrowed it down to three countries, but which one had she truly chosen?
He was tempted—dangerously tempted—to travel to Harvard and seek an understanding with Rebecca's son, the boy many believed was Steven's true heir. Steven himself shared that belief. Yet instinct told him otherwise: Rebecca needed to speak first. She alone held the key to the door of the boys heart.
No. He waved the idea off bitterly, recalling their first encounter—a meeting that had left a sour taste he could not rinse away. He didn't even know the young man's name. Everything pointed back to Rebecca.
Lost deep in thought, Steven barely noticed when his secretary's indicator light blinked softly. He sighed and allowed her in. In seconds, the blonde-haired secretary stood before him, her long, dangerously enticing legs on full display. Steven Kock had spent months disciplining himself not to look, knowing too well that a single slip of the eye could trigger a chemistry so fierce it would consume or complicate everything still standing.
"What do you have that's urgent, Miss...?" he asked, keeping his voice flat.
"Sir, our point man for the Venezuela Refinery project says he must speak to you immediately. He sounded urgent."
"That's fine. I'll call him right away."
When the voice on the other end came alive, Steven spoke first, using their private code.
"AA1, over."
"V1, sir," came the crisp reply.
"Good. What's the situation report? I hear there are new developments."
"Yes, sir," the voice said, tense. "I've heard from reliable sources that the Venezuelan authorities have instituted a panel of inquiry into the licensing process that awarded Kock Petroleum the refinery project license. Apparently sir, some factions are opposing the refinery's location. As we speak, sir, the matter has been taken to one of the High Courts. We must act fast before this spirals out of control."
Steven nodded, already calculating.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention early," he said. "You'll have our formal response by noon tomorrow. In the meantime, I want you to contact one of our trusted private security firms. Find out who the principal actors are behind the scenes. I need that report within forty-eight hours."
"It will be done, sir," the voice affirmed quickly before the call ended.
Just then, another update came through: Eagle Eye Securities had finally confirmed that Rebecca was currently residing in Northern Nigeria with her grandmother.
Steven leaned back heavily. This journey was becoming more dangerous—and more critical—by the day.
This may be the greatest adventure of my life, he mused. Can I survive it?
He didn't answer himself. He didn't need to. The truth was obvious. Without Rebecca and her son, his life would be empty, meaningless.
Adding to his agony, recent investigations hinted at another cruel blow: there was a chance he was not the father of Cherry's second child. If that was true, then everything that mattered to him now lay hidden in Africa—and to Africa he must go.
Against Senator Goldman's expectations, Steven was quietly charting a new course. He had no illusions about Senator Goldman's pivotal role in securing the initial success of Kock Refinery, nor was he unaware of the Senator's deep influence within the current Venezuelan administration. Yet Steven made a deliberate decision to bypass the old power structures his father had trusted.
Where David Kock had been loyal to old alliances, Steven Kock would be loyal to results.
Instead of leaning on Senator Goldman, he hired two former American ambassadors to Venezuela as lobbyists on behalf of Kock Petroleum. He also ordered the constitution of a new legal team, choosing the distinguished law firm Las Cámaras del Pueblo to lead their defense.
His reasoning was strategic. First, the firm's principal partner was an American woman who co-founded the firm alongside her Venezuelan husband—a political advantage Steven intended to use. Second, they had recently won a landmark victory at the International Court of Justice over territorial disputes in the Essequibo region of Guyana, a feat that made them a legal powerhouse enjoying goodwill both locally and internationally.
Steven smiled to himself. Competence over sentiment. Always.
Pacing his expansive office, he eventually found himself in the private gym attached to his suite. Climbing onto a stationary bicycle, he pedaled furiously, sweat pouring down his back—but his mind remained busier than his body.
The Venezuelan crisis.
The African mission.
The haunting possibility that his destiny, his bloodline, his very soul—all rested in an unknown village across an ocean.
Yet before embarking on this life-altering journey, Steven had to secure his empire.
Only a handful of trusted confidants knew the real purpose of his travel plans. For everyone else—including his board of directors—a cover story had been circulated: Steven Kock would be undergoing a minor surgical procedure in Germany, followed by a period of convalescence.
The ruse worked perfectly. Lobbying among senior executives to fill the leadership void began immediately, but once again, Steven surprised them all.
He brought back Mr. Arwood from retirement.
Mr. Arwood had been one of his father's original and most loyal directors, a man who had once run the company during David Kock's recovery from an assassination attempt. He had bled and fought for Kock Group when loyalty was a matter of life and death. In a time like this, Steven needed no less.
Loyalty is everything.
Preparations continued at a fevered pitch. Steven demanded detailed intelligence reports on his destination, trusted contacts, and potential challenges he might face.
And for the first time in his life, Steven Kock turned to something he had always considered optional—faith.
He asked his mother, the only religious member of his family, to pray for him. Together, after deep and painful conversations, they agreed: this was a journey he must take. No matter the cost.