When a New York business mogul inherits his fathers house in Ireland, he decides to build a new hotel there. But after meeting a local young kindergarden teacher, he finds himself on a crossroad. What is more important to him- buisness and money or true love?

"No, Mom, I don't want to talk about him!" I smash my hands on the oak table in my mom's house. "But honey, I need to tell you something!" She insists, placing her hand on my shoulder. "No," I wipe her hand away,"and it's final! We're never talking about him. Ever! You hear!" 

I know I'm hurting my mother, not talking about my father, but I can't do this. She bursts into crying. "Stop Mom, I know how I feel about him, but... It's just, I don't want to know anything about him!" I hug her tight, she's still crying. I feel my shirt turning moist and I just can't bare looking at her this way. 

"Can I atleast hug you?" she asks, as I push her away. I can't hug a woman who's crying. Even if it's my own mother. It's always felt uncomfortable for me, and I can't control myself. I just stand next to them and if I'm lucky, a pat on the back is the best I can do. 

"Well... if you stop crying, then you can!" I seem cold, arrogant and stupid. She wipes her tears and grabs my hand. "Baby, I can't wait, until the time comes, and you forgive! Forgive 'you-know-who' and finally understand, why he did everything he did! I have, and I hope you do also!" Her face is red, eyes are puffy and her mouth has formed a straight line. "We'll see, mom. We will see!" 

I close the door behind me and take a deep breath, I feel as my lungs have collapsed and there is nothing, I can't do. Please, let me breath, God! I stand there on the street curb, waiting for my car to arrive. Shit, I'm late for a meeting as well. I fish out my phone and dial the number, before calling him again. I raise my phone to my ear, but the car turns the corner and parks infront of me. Driver's side door opens: "I'm here, sir! Sorry, I'm late." Sean better have a good explanation, or his fired. 

Sean is my driver. I usually drive only on weekends or late in evenings, when I need to go somewhere. I hate being late and on that moment I even thought fireing him would make my mood better, but I burried that idea fast. Sean has worked for me over 2 years now and he makes mistakes like this occationally, but today I really got angry. 

I sit in the car silently, checking my emails and going throw my notes. Pages and pages full of ideas, concerning my latest projects. I like to work in car. There is no office noise or people asking me stupid questions. Even Sean knows that when we sit in car, he can't ask me anything or start chit-chating. There must me complete silence. Sometimes I listen to some classical music, when I'm really tired. That's all.

I step out of my Audi and the doorman opens the office building door for me. "Mr. Stone! Good Morning!" he says politly. "Thank you Frank. Same to you!" I pass the front receptions, not paying almost any attension on the blonde bimbo sitting behind the desk. Her breast are huge, almost poking out from her red silk blouse. Her lips are deep red as well. I walk to my elevator and push in my code. This takes me on my floor. Sandy is waiting me by the elevator doors, when I arrive. "Mr. Stone. Everything is ready for you're meeting with Saunder's brothers. They are already waiting for you in the conference room." I hand her my jacket and go in my office. I need to change clothes. My mother left wet stains and lipstick marks on my shirt, when she poured her tears into my expensive suit. 

I fix my silver striped tie and pull on a jacket. I also changed my shirt, leaving my dirty clothes on Sandy's desk, for her to take them to the cleaners. I crab my notes and step into the south side confrenceroom. "Gentlemen. Thank you for coming." I shake hands with both of them. 

"Well? Have You decided yet?" I ask while I take a seat at the end of the table. "Yes we have!" Kyle Saunders pulls his chair out and sits down. "I accept to sell and for 14 million dollars." He says calmly. "What? I thought we agreed on 10?" I stand up, slamming my hand on the confrence table. "Are you shitting me, you're hotel isn't worth more than 9, and anyway, I offered you extra 1 million for it!" Is he trying to screw me? This is not going to happen. I calm myself down and look out to the window. I need that hotel. The land under it will cost double the money in four years and then I can sell it foward with a nice cost. "Well, has anybody made you a better deal?" I ask, clentching my jaw. "Yes, Plot Corporation!" He answers.  Fuck, Tom Hamick. That sleasy little brick. I can't let him take what was supposed to be mine. "Fine! 14 million it is!" I surrender. Knowing that little asshat won't get his claws under this deal.

Few hours later I'm in my appartment, drowning myself in whiskey. As the CEO and founder of Stone Enterprise, I can't take shit from anybody. I know how to get what I need and that's why I don't give up never. Even, if it means, that I need to spend few more millions. This was a bull-shit deal, but in the end of it, I win. And I love to win.

I sit in my living room, wearing only my black sweatpants hanging on my hips. I'd better be home drunk than somewhere in bar, where paparazzi would have a great day after getting some shots of me kissing some hooker or passed out. I've learned my lesson and on the hard way. I have a reputation to hold and I won't make the same mistake again. 

"Mr. Stone! Your company is one of the biggest hotel management companies in United States. How do you get all the energy to run this enterprise and how did you get so successful?" the news reporter asks me. "Well. People need to work hard for their goals. If you don't try, you won't succeed. And I try, hard. I know how to read people and what they want. After all everybody want money, and I agree. So do I. But, about my energy; I put all of if in my work, I work out regulary, I eat well and don't waist time on things that don't matter." My answer is clear and on point. 

The shrugs, before asking another question. "What about your personal life? Do you have anybody in your life right now?" I stop him. "My personal life is personal. That's why it's called *personal*!" I raise my voice at him but don't lose my cool. "Ok, then what about your deal with the Saunders brothers? Does Stone Enterprise has a plan to buy their hotel?" He smirks at me. I don't like it. "I've already purchased it and will be making changes. What's going to happen with the hotel, you can ask me in a year!" I answer, hoping that the interview for New York Times ends here.

"Thank you Mr. Stone! It was my pleasure!" He stands up, shaking my hand, his hands sweaty. I do this to people. I make them nervous and uncomfortable. But I must admit, I'm quite happy about it. This keeps them alert and won't let them betray or fail me on any way. I won't say that I like control, but I like to pressure them. 

"Mr. Stone, there is a gentleman waiting here to see you." Sandy pops her head throw my office door. "Does he have a appointment?" I ask, while opening my laptop. "No. But he says it's urgent!" I shrug. Doesn't people know already, that I don't take meeting, if I don't plan them. "How much time I have?" I ask. "15 minutes before your lunch with your mother." she checks her watch. "Fine! Send him in!" I breath deeply, excausted as hell. "Mr. Stone.!" An elderly man steps to my office. He looks 80 and can barely walk. "And you are?" I ask before reaching for a handshake. "I'm Paul Brexton. I'm your father's lawyer!"

What the...? This day keeps getting better and better, I think to myself. I press my feelings down and ask him to sit.  "Thank you for seeing me, I know that it's not appopriate to fly in here un-announced but I have something that you should have." He takes a large white envelope from his briefcase. "Here!" he says, when he hands it to me. "What is it?" I ask, looking at it. "It's your fathers will. I'm sorry to let you know that your father passed away a week ago! Sorry for your loss!" He says. I cramp at my desk, pushing myself not to stand up and toss him out from my office. I set the envelope on my table, not taking another look at it. "I don't have a father. You must have me confused with someone else!" I stand up, fixing my tie and buttoning my jacket. 

"Your mother said, that you would react this way." He says, after sending me a polite smile. "You talked to my mother?" I snap at him, forcing myself not to grab him by his colar and push him againt the wall. "Yes! I visited her yesterday." he smirks. I lose myself in anger. "Get out!" I shout. "But...?" I stop him. "Get out, or I will get the security!" I even open the door for him. He marches out, giving me a pity look. I slam the door behind him. 

I sit down and look at the envelope. My father's will. Come on Christian. Calm down! I dial my phone and after two rings she answers. "Mom, we need to talk!"

When Sean drops me off, I can see my mom already sitting in the restaurant. She is flipping the pages on the menu and plays with her hair. Why isn't she upset? She already knew about him but she didn't even call me. I enter the restaurant and give her a kiss on the cheak. "Hey honey! What did you want to talk about?" she asks and puts her hand on mine. "Mom! I had a interesting meeting today!" I pause for a second, before getting myself together. "A lawyer came to see me. He had a will with him!" I look for any reaction from my mom, but there is none. "I know. I sent him to see you!" She lowers her head, as she was embarresed. "What? Why? I already told you yesterday, that I don't want anything to do with him!" I keep myself back, but I feel as I'm going to explode from anger. "Please, don't get angry! I wanted to tell you yesterday, that he died, but you didn't let me!" My mom retaliates.

As I was about to ask my mom a question, the waiter arrived to take our order. "I'll have tunasalad and a lemon icetea." My mom ordered. I decided on a chicken pot pie and water. "Have you opened the envelope?" My mom asks, taking a bite from her salad. "No. And I'm not going to!" My answer is short. The hell with his will and what ever he left for me. I don't need any money- I have pleanty.

"You should! You'll regret later, if you don't!" My mother tries to get me to surrender. "Why would I? I've said it before and I will say it again. I don't want to know anything about him!" I lost my appetite. "I'm sorry mother, but I need to get back to the office. There is something I need to take care off." I lied. Actually I didn't have any meetings until tomarrow and there was nothing to do. Sean picked me up after I said good-bye to my mom. 

I sit in my home office, surronded by shelves of books and old antique furniture. Table lamp shades light on my desk and I can't keep thinking of that envelope. I look at it, turn it and place it back to the table. There is nothing written on it and if I hold it against the light, I see only small scribble text. Open it, I know you want to know, what's in there: my conscious tells me. No. No you don't! I put it back down and take a small sip from my whiskey. 

The hell with it. I open the envelope with a paper knife and take out a punch of papers. I start reading the will and first time in life I see his name. And it's not money what he left me, but something else. Something bigger and more important.