Chapter 1 OH NO
Lavio’s silk italian suit got drenched in the heavy rain as he hurried in the Bentley. “Oh no” he thought. The other company’s head would certainly be unimpressed with his suit. His hair was a mess. Everything today was going wrong . His coffee was too strong. He never got the pleasure to fire any of the lowly employees. The driver was better at driving than him, the list go on forever.

Lavio was the CEO of a major bank, In fact the capital bank of the country. Lavio had a mop of black hair that looked suspiciously like a toupee. He was always in some kind of expensive suit.
“You dumb thing, drive this junk NOW!” He shouted at the weary driver. Lavio pounded the armrests so hard it nearly broke. The driver hit the gas and there they went, driving way over the speed limit. An immense towering rock face was in the way of the Bentley. The driver panicked at the enraged Lavio and the car went speeding right into it.

It collided and it flew backwards and the once grand and majestic Bentley was now covered with battle scars and upside down. Lavio looked at his phone for help but it was crushed into smithereens. He heard a painful crack on his leg and Lavio could tell his leg was broken. Help had to come.

“Brat, is there a doctor anywhere?” “Yes sir but I think we have to walk there.Plus, its four hours away from here.” “Double oh no” Flavio thought. He made a mental note to force someone to add another thing to the four kilometer list. The list was the list of things that went wrong today. Lavio was also going to be off work for a few days.

Chapter 2 the formal dinner
Rose watched the immaculately dressed guests stroll sensibly by. She knew her job,
Witness the party and write the article. A tall man in an annoyingly expensive suit strolled stiffly by and down at her. “Ve are getting sstarted. I expected a male CEO, come and take a seat.” “You own a nice bank though..” Rose wasn’t a CEO, she was just a journalist writing was her thing. He gestured towards a long dinner table. Medieval wine glasses stood upon it. Rose tried to retaliate but the man already pushed her in. Smoothing the dress and heels, Rose had no choice. The venue itself was well chosen, an old manor that the host owned.
The vaulted ceiling boasted a fifteenth century oil painting. Sweet cherubs smiled down. The architecture was intricate. The chandelier was suspended over the dining table. Among the many clear diamonds there was just a hint of red, perhaps a ruby.

The guests filed around behind their seats. Then the guests elegantly did that without a word. Rushing to the last seat next to a woman with an ostrich feather gown. She did that without grace or elegance. Embarrassment coiled and slithered up Rose’s heart, squeezing so hard her cheeks burned. Rose noticed the chair had a name engraved.
On it in a loopy script, Lavio Parvarotii. Who was this Lavio Parvarotii? She tried to take a seat but in the middle of it she noticed the others stood unflinching. It squeezed and more patches of red appeared on Roses cheeks. The guests bent further to take a look at the sound. The tall man who had ushered her in looked quizzically around.