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There was no sound in the room, only an icy silence—perhaps was it a little too quiet, in hindsight. Like the blue sky and sunbeams before the destructive storm. A dark omen.
Jona was leaning against the wall of the men's restroom, his face resting on his praying hands. He was thinking, or at least trying to, with all the willpower he could muster at that very moment. He swore he was trying to stay calm, but it was easier said than done, unfortunately...
Then, after a while, he made up his mind. A long sigh escaped his lips and he finally left the room, his stride determined. He knew exactly where to go—or almost, at least. It wasn't as if Pro-Mink's premises were huge, and it only took a few minutes to walk around and find what one was looking for. There was the warehouse, the break room, and the offices. Nothing more, nothing less.
Of course, Jona intended to change that.
The company would shine again, regain its former glory throughout Finland and even beyond.
Customers would flock to it just like in the old days, when his father was still at the helm. When he created it.
But to achieve this, it had to break free from its chains.
And it was with this optimistic outlook, jacket perfectly ironed and hair neatly styled, that Jona strode through the almost empty depot, heading almost against his will toward the shrill sound that his poor ears had just intercepted, as if to guide him more easily, yet with agony, toward...
“Mikael? Hey, Mikael?” He tried to call out, a grimace on his face. The person whose attention he was vainly trying to attract had one knee on the ground, a drill in his hands and... well, drilling holes in the lower part of the wall. Pro-Mink certainly needed a makeover, sure, but wasn't there something more important to do than... whatever he was doing right now? Of course, he couldn't hear Jona with his thick noise-canceling headphones on. “Erm, Mikael, I really need to talk to you, so if you could...” And while saying this, he patted Mikael on the shoulder, who finally seemed to notice him.
“Ah, Jona! It's you!” He stopped his machine and took off his helmet, a smile playing on his lips. “Haha, you should've told me sooner that you were there!”
The remark made Jona roll his eyes, a fist on his hip.
“I've been... no, forget it,” he said with resignation. “Mikael, we really need to talk, and it's important. It's about—”
“Oooh, you mean our latest order from Granholm, right? Don't worry, it's all under control! Already working on it, you don't need to bother with it. But, urgh, it's unfortunate, but I really need to get back to the drilling I was doing, if you don't mind. By the way, there are those boxes over there that you can put away. Since I plan to work there too, it would be nice if the wall were cleared before I get there, you understand? Could you do that?”
... however, Jona had only listened to half of his spiel, if anything at all.
He wasn't stupid.
He knew Mikael had deliberately cut him off mid-sentence and spouted nonsense to keep his nephew from mentioning that right in front of him. Hiding in the distance. But the truth—oh, the truth was that he was tired of waiting, tired of believing in promises that were never kept. He was a man on a mission he fully intended to complete. Things at Pro-Mink had to change—starting with the one who claimed to be its CEO.
So, before his uncle could put his damned helmet back on to find yet another excuse for not listening to him, Jona roughly snatched it from his hands and held his arm up in the air. The same gesture as when punishing children by taking away their favorite toy. Because, apparently, that was what he had to do to finally get Mikael's attention. It was disheartening, but... what could he possibly do?
“My father, Mikael. Were you able to call him?” He asked, his tone colder than usual. And, unsurprisingly, Jona saw a faint, faint glimmer of guilt shine in the eyes beneath him, before vanishing as quickly as it'd appeared. Of course. Still, he wasn't so cocky now, was he?
“Ah, yes, Raymond. Raymond, Raymond... well... you know, with the time difference and his long nights drinking piña coladas... plus, he has to work a lot when he's not at some grandes fiestas, so it wasn't easy trying to reach him. That kind of issue...”
“Yes, yes... that's what you told me last time, too. But I'm not buying your bullshit anymore,” he spat, his words dripping with venom. It was rare to see Jona even slightly annoyed, as he tried his best to be friendly—to bring back the sadly lost positivity within the company, still... he had to. If he wanted Mikael to take him seriously, then he would resort to drastic measures. “We both know that you've never tried to call him, because you know what he'll say if you ask him what we're doing now with Pro-Mink.”
Ouch.
That just hit a nerve.
Faced with such an implication-laden announcement, Mikael jumped to his feet, his drill long since abandoned on the floor—but the worst part was that he didn't even overpower Jona. After all, they were exactly the same height, the two men on equal footing. A bittersweet twist of fate, without any doubt...
A voice rose, ready to retaliate against the threats.
“Listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me!” Jona retorted quickly, an accusing digit pointed forward. Toward his designated culprit, Mikael. “Dad explicitly bequeathed his company to me. I'm the rightful heir, and whether you like it or not, I'm therefore the new boss. And all you've been able to do is lie to my face, over and over again, even though you've never tried to contact him in the first place. Not even once. I've tried to be understanding, patient, but here's the thing: it pains me to say it, but I'm getting fed up with being sidelined and doing all the thankless tasks while you spend your entire day in my office. So, I have a proposal,” he said while taking his phone out of his pocket. “I'll call him while you are here, so you can hear what he has to—”
But as Jona scrolled through his contacts looking for Raymond, a hand larger than his suddenly grabbed his wrist, hard and tight—and soon, in mere seconds, he was pinned against the wall behind him by Mikael. It'd been so sudden that he hadn't been able to say anything, the information only slowly sinking in. Too slowly.
In shock, his fingers went limp and his device fell to the ground.
“What... what are you doing? Get away from me! Don't touch me—this is my personal space!” He struggled, hitting his arm—to force him to release it, but to no avail. Unfortunately, he wasn't strong enough to fight a man of such stature. Nevertheless, he still murmured under his breath, clearly not keeping his priorities straight. “Luckily, my phone case is sturdy...”
“Y—you won't call Raymond!” Mikael warned him. His voice was still as loud, as booming, as if to drown out any sound that didn't come from him. To assert himself, to show who was in charge. A beautiful lie that had gone on long enough, and Jona intended to bring him back down to earth. That was why he'd come here in the first place, after all.
“I understand why you don't want to do it, you're afraid of hearing him say you're no longer the CEO of Pro-Mink,” he continued, strangely calmer—as if his earlier panic had quickly vanished. A single breath had been enough, a feng shui technique he'd learned in his spare time in his cubicle. It might as well have been useful for something... however, almost as if to taunt himself, or just to prove the opposite just to be annoying, he discarded the peaceful tactic as quickly as it'd appeared and smiled. “How does it feel to be replaced by the new generation?”
Oh, Jona tried to provoke him. A small impulse had come over him, daring. Feeling like he was growing wings.
Hitting where it hurt, the sensitive chord he was biting.
Just to be a little brat—just to show Mikael he was fed up with being too nice and kind when all he got in return was a beating.
And that it wasn't just because he was his uncle that Jona was going to let himself be walked all over.
... obviously, this hadn't gone down very well.
“You have absolutely no experience in this, while I've been a business owner almost my entire life! I've been running Pro-Mink ever since my brother decided to go eat nachos and paella at the beach, and things were going great until you came along and... screwed everything up!” With his free hand, Mikael made a sweeping gesture to emphasize his words. “Pro-Mink needs a real man to lead it, which you aren't and never will be! You're the weakest link!”
The young man could have been hurt in his ego by such a statement.
... which, in fact, was the case.
But Jona didn't show it, preferring to continue his argument, arms now crossed over his chest—he'd finally managed to break free from Mikael's grip. Urgh, he was convinced he'd have a mark on his wrist for days...
“Listen, Mikael. I'm begging you. Let me have Pro-Mink for even just a week, where I control everything, and you'll see the difference. The employees will be much happier with my performance than yours. Do I need to remind you of the disaster with Gun on my first day?”
“Absolutely not! I wouldn't risk a single day so you could have an excuse to do whatever you want behind my back and drone on about your... your... your woke stuff all day long in the employees' ears! It already had a terrible influence on them. Have you even thought about Emilia? She's a fragile woman!”
“... my what?”
Jona's jaw almost dropped—so stunned by such an accusation that he hadn't even listened to the rest of the sentence.
Did Mikael seriously just call him woke, or... ?
“All your weird stuff, your questions and suggestions, it's... it's weird!” He grimaced—no longer even trying to hide how much it was weirding him out. “It really impacted everyone negatively, I can see that! No, I don't want that here. Pro-Mink is about punctuality, production, profitability.”
... okay, he could understand that the older generation struggled to adapt to 20th-century standards, to what companies need to implement to remain dynamic and attract talented, young people, but this... this was bordering on the ridiculous, even for Mikael. Yet another reason why Pro-Mink needed to evolve quickly if it wanted to keep up and not go under. Admittedly, Jona's last attempt to hire interns hadn't been very successful, but that had only been the warm-up! A trial run to test the waters! He'll surely find more appealing internship opportunities! Anyway—he had a discussion to wrap up, which, to be honest, didn't exactly thrill him... but he had to do it.
For his father's legacy.
Although, it was starting to seriously annoy him—and he didn't like that. Because when he got a bit too annoyed, he knew he could do screw things up.
“First of all, I was only laying a solid foundation while asking the necessary questions to get to know my employees well and use language that wouldn't trigger them, something you clearly didn't do,” Jona said, hands clasped together again in a silent prayer. As if hoping his uncle would quickly grasp all the benefits this would undoubtedly bring to the company. Not that Mikael had a choice, though... one single call to Raymond, and he wouldn't be able to try and scam him with flimsy excuses. “Have you even paid attention to Tommy, for example? He needs encouragement, he needs to be given confidence! He needs to be allowed to express his creativity! And, excuse my language, I get the impression you're trying to keep him caged rather than letting him fly on his own.”
Ah, poor Tommy. Someone had to start taking care of him the way he deserved... yes, he'll be Jona's number one priority once he's fully settled inas the new CEO. However, of course, he was quickly brought back to reality by a cutting remark from Mikael.
Clearly, he hadn't appreciated a certain turn of phrase. Had he even liked anything in the whole conversation, though?
“Ah, so they're your employees now?” He gave a forced sneer. “You know what they say, catch your bear before you sell its skin. Or rather, catch your mink! Ah!” Then, he laughed once again, this time genuinely at his own joke. Which wasn't... quite bad, indeed. But Jona didn't want to fall for his childish game, not now.
Not when his career was on the line.
“Indeed.” There was a pause, a freeze in time. To catch his breath. “Because they always have been, ever since Dad officially appointed me as the new boss of Pro-Mink,” the young man retorted, his eyes narrowed and his voice hissing. But he didn't stop there, daring to take a step forward, a step large enough that his forearms were pressed against Mikael's stomach. And it returned: that smirk. The one he knew was hated. “I've worked my whole life to take over Pro-Mink, that's how Dad raised me and guided me through my studies. And that's exactly what I intend to do, whether you like it or not.”
“No, you won't—”
“Try me.”
That seemed to be the last straw.
Mikael, exasperated, grabbed Jona by the shoulders and slammed him against the warehouse wall for the second time already, using his bulk and natural strength to hold his nephew in place. Disciplined. Jona squealed at the impact, his head hitting the metal behind him—yet, that was the least of his worries. He struggled, flailing his body once more. He had no intention of being humiliated a second time, not before someone who was, in fact, his employee.
Which he'd always been, in reality.
The hard truth.
After a while, in the endless fight, Jona's fingers finally found his uncle's shirt collar and pushed. To pull him away. To break free from his grip. Refusing to be sandwiched like that.
... and slowly, gently, anger rose in his heart.
Oh, he'd sworn he'd try to remain more or less calm, no matter what schemes Mikael tried to throw him off—it seemed he wouldn't keep his own promise, though. Something that had already been broken since the beginning of this conversation, actually, but that was just a minor detail now...
His grayish-blue eyes fixed on the man in front of him—his own family, a face just as frustrated and agitated as his own. Mirrors facing each other, and their gazes met. Intensely. A sea of fire in their pupils.
“You little—”
... yet, Mikael never finished his sentence.
It was dead, like all the others before it.
Passed away in the most stunning shock.
And the worst part of it all—
Was that Jona didn't know why.
Not why he'd done it.
Madness, perhaps.
It shouldn't even have crossed his mind, but, well... blinding rage could make people do terrible things.
Screw things up.
Like savagely pulling Mikael toward him and making their teeth chatter, for example.
... ahem.
Of course, the most logical explanation for such an action was that, originally, Jona had simply wanted to silence him. Take the words right out of his mouth, save him some breath—maybe even more literally than he'd intended. It was a well-intentioned idea, even, wasn't it? How could anyone possibly blame him... ?
If it weren't for the method he used.
Such a blasphemy.
Eyes wide and blood running cold, Jona's fingers relaxed in an instant—then slipped from the collar he'd previously gripped tightly. As if all life had just left them, too. An empty shell, a wandering soul.
What?
“I, erm...” He swallowed, confused and lost in what had just happened. Then, he felt it: his cheeks flushing with shame. Not even daring to look Mikael in the eye, for fear of dying on the spot, he managed to wriggle free of his prison—the fact that he was no longer clinging to his shoulders had surely helped. D—damn, how was he supposed to explain this calmly, now? He himself didn't fully understand why his brain had decided to do this, of all things! Argh, why had he gotten himself into this mess?! “Forget it. Yes, forget all of it. I just wanted to—just. Call him.”
To be honest, Jona hadn't even really registered what he'd just said. He'd simply regurgitated the first words that came to mind, praying with every fiber of his being that it formed a somewhat coherent sentence, and that it wouldn't make everything any worse.
Not that it could be worse than having kissed Mikael, at this point. Unfortunately.
Ah, thank goodness all his employees had gone home over two hours ago. He wouldn't have survived the possibility that Emilia, Tommy or Gun had witnessed... whatever had just happened in Pro-Mink's own offices.
Shit.
Jona hadn't even looked back when he left, fearing nothing more than Mikael's reaction—which had been strangely quiet, actually. Damn... he'd rarely felt such shame in his life, but it was now official: he just wanted to dig a hole in the middle of a field and never come out again. And, in hindsight, maybe reminding him to call Raymond afterward hadn't been such a wise idea...
Fear gripped him again, clinging to his heart like a lifebuoy as he slumped against his car.
Please, God, don't let his father ever find out about this, otherwise he'd lose his job at Pro-Mink for sure... he might even be disinherited—ah, no! He shouldn't even think about something like that! Jona was already going to have enough nightmares for years to come...