Though curious about the reason for Alex's call, Mark's voice came through with the answer to his question:
"Information just came in. Ulzio Group is interested in cooperating with us. They just confirmed it."
The words reverberated softly in Alex's ear the phone was pressed against, as he frowned, and his eyes narrowed. A chill sharply tore through the calm in his brown eyes, making the floating silence suddenly gain a weight that seemed to pull it down.
Mark waited without saying anything. After a moment, which he judged must have been enough for the crest of the wave to have fallen back, he asked cautiously:
"Do we…?"
Alex closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, calm had returned inside them. His usual smile, which had been missing for the past hour, returned, and he leaned back in his seat:
"Yes, we negotiate with them, and if the price is right, we cooperate with them. There is no conflict of interests between us."
Mark hesitated:
"Alex…"
"..."
The silence gave him the answer to his unvoiced question, so he took a breath, and exhaled:
"I understand."
Alex spun his seat to face the blue sky interspersed with fluffy white under the harshening rays of the sun, and calmly continued:
"They are reaching out now because we have pushed Arland Group away. Since we are at it, the conditions for the negotiations will change. I want you to create something for me, an association for disaster relief and help around the world. We will call it Global Helping Hand. The prerequisite for anyone partnering up with us for the project will be joining that organization and signing up to contribute for fifty years."
Mark's shocked voice came through the receiver of the phone:
"Is it just to get back at the Kester and the Stork!?"
Alex paused, then rolled his eyes, speechless:
"Even though we will be the biggest beneficiary, the others joining the association will also see a spike in reputation. Do you think I'm that generous to reward evil with good? Seriously?"
The sound of Mark choking on the other side could be heard, as even he, after his brain caught up with his mouth, had found his words a little too embarrassing. Fortunately, Alex didn't outright help him drown in that viscous sea, and spared him, as he went on with a head shake:
"I don't get back at people in a roundabout way, Mark. You should know that."
Looking out of the window, Alex let himself get lost in the wide, bright sky. His voice took on a faraway softness, as he listened to his heart, steady, rhythmic, and strong, unlike that day, unlike ten years ago:
"Since I didn't pursue what happened ten years ago, I will not pursue it now, or ever. You will get a list. Apart from the disaster relief that will make our name known far and wide, the countries on that list will be the priority for the help, especially for infrastructure and technology."
"Are they special in any way?"
To Mark's curiosity, for which Alex could almost imagine him raising his brows, he nodded:
"I have some investments there. Also, add education among the tasks of the association."
"I see. Not only will you exchange those help with goodwill, you will also get some favors in return from the local authorities. Moreover, you will also find talents to bring into the fold."
Alex didn't deny that. He added, his smile deepening:
"And you failed to see how the market will be expanded, how others' pride will be stung enough that they will try harder to keep their lead at the forefront of the world, and how the content of your bank account will keep growing, because we will be at the forefront of the wave."
"I get it. I get it. I really don't know whether to call you a noble businessman or a ruthless, manipulating one."
Alex laughed at the mock surrender and the comment:
"Does it matter?"
"No, it doesn't. At least my son will lack nothing after coming into this world."
Alex scoffed, his tone full of sarcasm:
"Yeah, your Lee family is so poor that its last descendant is at risk of starving."
Mark laughed wryly:
"Alright, my bad. Just, don't repeat those words of mine to my mother. I don't want her to threaten me with my grandpa's walking stick. He should be left to rest in peace where he is."
"Pfft! I will think about it…"
Hearing Alex's stifled laughter, Mark exhaled in defeat, and changed the subject, at last:
"Didn't you call me for something? Even if not for me, give some face to my wife and get to the point."
Alex shook his head at the unashamed way Mark used Ga-yeong as his shields:
"You are lucky she is like a sister to me."
"Yes, yes, I know. Now, tell me the reason for your call. You must be busy, where you are."
The corner of Alex's eyes twitched at the barely veiled jab that only further diminished the comfort of the chair under him. He breathed in while thinking about Ga-yeong's ballooned belly, then exhaled, his breath filled with magnanimity. Thinking about the reason for his call, he lost the mood to joke:
"I need you to prepare something for me."
Mark picked up on the change, and his own tone went low:
"Go on."
Alex's eyes left the clear sky, and his gaze went to the side, landing across the desk, on the chair that was just losing the warmth from its last occupant:
"Get me a shop, at the mall. Make it a designing studio, neither too big nor too small. It must be modest but comfortable, and not lacking in any way."
There was a moment of silence on the other side. Mark seemed to understand something from what Alex said, making him full of earnestness when he replied:
"I will get it ready. Should I put it under your name?"
"No."
The answer left Alex's mouth reflexively, but after that, he paused, then changed his mind, as his dazed eyes left the seat across the desk, and returned to the monitor of the computer:
"Do it. Put it under my name, then let me know when it is ready."
"Got it."