The millionaire director of a power-hungry company doesn't think twice about jumping through a few loopholes to maximise his profit margins. But an old friend arrives, uninvited, and makes him realise that he is not in control. Who will bear the ultimate responsibility for the atrocities that are looming?
“Fascinating,” he considered, as he towered over the pedestrians below, their ugly features, dufflecoats and desperately fake woollen hats. He had never before seen such a dreary, miserable stream of Christmas shoppers, commuters and beggars. In fact the beggars looked cheerier than most. The Big Issue man on the corner sang a lonely carol as he hawked.
He mused a little on how different his life could have been. And laughed.
Goldsworthy was a businessman. A business owner and director. A CEO in fact, of a top performing company, nonetheless. And proud. Definitely proud. It was with this pride that he delivered his services.
Acquiring the family business, when he was just sixteen, he knew at once what he wanted: success. And from tiny beginnings, Gold Standard had risen from the slums.