CEO's proposal

of danger and poison for the heir to the traditional family of cattle ranchers from the Midwest. Arnaldo got out of the elevator and found himself in the second floor hallway. He was not authorized to participate in the meeting between the executive and representatives of the Sacramento medium-sized cattle ranchers association. However, Maria Rita, the executive's assistant, managed to include him in a tour that Pedro Alacrán and the others would take at the farm to see the facilities of the artificial insemination center.

Deep down, the journalist knew it was a marketing maneuver, given that the eldest son of the owner of it all was the director responsible for the biotechnology sector. He settled into one of the chairs arranged against the wall of the long hallway, interspersed with the green plants in huge pots. He took a notepad from the shoulder bag he wore across his chest, crossed his legs, chewed his gum twice and tried to control his nervousness mixed with anxiety. He would much rather cover the extramarital affairs of farmers' wives. The buzz in the corridor warned him of the arrival of the beelzebub from the cerrado. He stood up from his chair when he saw the CEO arrive followed by his assistant and an older man, who he recognized as the head of the genetics laboratory. He understood the reason for his own nervousness. Pedro Alacrán was a legitimate underwear wetter. Arnaldo felt every inch of his body manifest. The pores dilated, the glands produced more sweat and more hormones, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, a shiver ran down his spine and a flutter in his stomach left him on alert. Tall, almost 1.90m tall with a slender frame, the gunmetal gray blazer fit his body with a perfect fit, giving him lightness and elegance, combining with the turquoise blue shirt and beige Stetson hat. His eyes were protected by sunglasses, a sports model from Ray-Ban, and Arnaldo knew they were green, an emerald green. The most cynical and sarcastic look that he had never had the pleasure of being the target of, but that he had already seen in action in the photographs published in the newspaper, in agribusiness magazines and in celebrity magazines, since the young man only dated women of the social level of his peers. Alacran. His chin was firm, masculine, a dimple gave him a sexy look. His jaw was clean-shaven, he had a clean face, like an urban man and not like most of the cowboys in Sacramento, who had a more rustic, unshaven appearance. I couldn't consider him as a wild and rude man, he was more like who he really was: an agribusiness CEO who dressed like a Dallas farmer, who paraded around the interior of Brazil with his very expensive Rolex hanging from his wrist, his pickup truck luxury, the jet chartered for his trips around the country and abroad, his Stetson collection, leather boots, race horses and, it was said, that he also owned a luxurious yacht that cost him 45 million reais . Information that would soon be confirmed by Pedro himself. He extended his hand when he saw him approaching, but his gesture and his person were ignored. The assistant, flanking the boss, gave him a friendly smile and stopped to greet him. - How are you, Mr. Freitas? Did you bring your photographer? - I am very well and grateful for the opportunity to get to know the famous Pedro Alacrán more closely. - he noticed the hint of a mischievous smile on the assistant's painted lips and continued: - And, yes, the newspaper photographer will arrive at the scheduled time for the tour of the farm. - Great, feel free and... - Maria Rita. She was interrupted by the boss's deep and low voice. They both turned and found him without his sunglasses, the brim of his hat slightly lowered showing part of his serious eyes, his jaws set and his lips drawn in a rictus of annoyance. He seemed impatient. - Well, I'm sorry, please. I'll open the door for Mr. Alacrán. - he said, a little awkwardly and, already walking away, added jovially over his shoulder: - If you need anything, printed material about our facilities or about the history of Grupo Fazenda Alacrán, just ask me. I am at your complete disposal, Mr. Freitas. She was a lovely young woman who looked 25, 26 years old. She was wearing a blouse and a knee-length skirt, discreet, high heels. The well-combed hair, little makeup, the restrained style one would expect from an executive assistant. But all his attention soon shifted to the young CEO, heir to an empire that encompassed thousands of hectares, heads of cattle and the biotechnology company. You could see in his physical posture, his straight back, his raised chin, the air of superiority that he knew his place in the world and that it wasn't among the poor mortals who weren't born under the sign of Scorpio's wealth. At no point did Pedro Alacrán pay attention to him before entering the meeting room and not closing the door behind him, as it was his assistant who did this for him. *** - Fazenda Alacrán offers breeding bulls that will

he middle of the room, put his hands in the side pockets of his Italian fabric pants, spread his legs in a position that expressed control over the situation and said: - The main objective of using improving genetics through superior breeders is to achieve the weaknesses found in the herd. The current scenario requires a more competitive stance from livestock farmers, even if it is a traditional family property. Now I will hand the floor over to our veterinarian, who will explain the technical aspects of both artificial insemination, embryo transfer and in vitro fertilization.

Afterwards, our commercial manager will briefly talk about how to be successful in choosing and using the improved bull. Thank you very much for your attention and, after the coffee break, our general manager will take you on a tour of our property. - He finally finished, showing the shadow of a smile. He touched two fingers to the brim of his hat and left without turning around. He stopped in the hallway and saw Arnaldo Freitas, pretended not to recognize him and continued on, followed by his assistant. - Fire the guy who made that amateur film of the meeting. - He spoke softly to Maria Rita. - Can I Know the reason? - Have I ever given you the reason for my decisions? - he asked, in an ironic tone. - The film was perfect. - Boring, didactic and tiring. - Oh, but if that's why, he can remake it. - Great, well thought out. - He said, turning to the woman with a gentle smile on his lips. - Send the boy to reshoot the film and schedule a meeting again with the same ranchers, warning them in advance to forget everything they heard at today's meeting. For a moment she maintained the smile until the instant she finally assimilated the meaning of the words. - I understand, I will contact HR. However... - she had to run a little to get into the same elevator as him and continued: - Mr. Alacrán is bothered by the high turnover of employees under his direction. Pedro checked his cell phone calls, noting that almost all of them were professional, except the one from his girlfriend. Without turning around, he spoke to the secretary: - What Alacrán? My father? - No, Mr. Paulo Henrique. - Thank you for informing me about something that doesn't interest me. Now, yes, you can be useful. - He said, looking at her with a charming smile. - Buy ​​Diana a nice gift, I think yesterday was her birthday, I'm not sure. - He frowned. - Yes, I warned him... - Did he warn you? - It's in your notebook and cell phone diary and, at ten o'clock yesterday morning, I went to your office and informed you personally. I thought he heard me, as he gave me a nod and a wave of his hand, both sending me out of his office. - Irony, Maria Rita? - A little, Mr. Alacrán. - Great, that shows how intelligent and prepared you are for the role. Now, take the morning off and go buy something expensive and flashy for my sweet Adriana. - Diana. - She corrected him, acidly. - That's right, I just wanted to know if you were paying attention. - He scoffed. In fact, he had dated Adriana two months before he started dating Diana. The two were tall, blonde, models, well-born, coming from families that did business with the Alacrán. Both bored him most of the time. But he wasn't the kind of guy who valued emotional relationships too much, his strength and energy were focused on business, on beating his competitors and keeping the name of the company he ran with a tight rein on the top of the podium. - What about the journalist? The elevator reached the penthouse, and Pedro went out into the hallway that led to the boardroom. There was a sign with his name and surname written in gold. A few meters away, another door, and the engraved name was his father's. The hierarchical position was higher than his, as Eduardo Alacrán continued to clock in at the company every day. One day Pedro would enter the next room, more spacious and worthy of his person and his years of study and work in the family business. It was practically impossible for the father to choose his youngest son, no matter how responsible and sensible Paulo Henrique was, even calm, with the air of a civil servant without ambition. The Alacrán's impetuosity coursed through Pedro's veins. He was the turbulence, the rough sea, the modernity and progress of the Alacrán Group, which is why he was responsible for the biotechnology area. He stood at the glass wall, his chin stubborn and his eyes fixed on the open fields where the cattle grazed, his herd the most superior of any in the region. The best genes previously selected to create products with the best meat and the best milk. - What about the journalist? - He came especially to interview you, he's going to write an article about you. I even authorized you to participate in the tour of the farm, since the plan was for you to lead it. - I changed my plans. - I understand. - She paused, and he yawned before hearing her continue: - So what do I do with the journalist? - Send him to hell. - He replied, calmly, turning around with a serene smile on his face. - He wants to feed his fifth-rate tabloid with gossip about me. - He commented, sitting in the high-backed armchair that resembled a leather throne. -But you authorized your entry. - she said, sitting on the chair in front of the huge desk - I don't understand. Will I have to ship it? - Yup. - She replied, now, keeping an eye on her laptop screen. - No interviews other than with my commercial manager. Freitas wants intrigues and scandals, and I will give him numbers and figures. -I'm going to make this proposal to him. - She commented, looking resigned. - First, however, I need to reinforce the importance of paying attention to your personal commitment schedule. He looked at her, arching an eyebrow in amusement. - Another family dinner I forgot to attend? She gave him the same smile. - Not yet, and I hope you don't forget this one, it's the celebration of your parents' 50th wedding anniversary. - And how can anyone forget? It will be the party of the year in Sacramento. - She mocked. The assistant's cell phone rang in the other room. Maria Rita asked him for permission and left the office to assist him. She noticed her flushed cheeks and wondered why she felt embarrassed about having to answer her own cell phone. It was not prohibited to use it in the company or for personal calls, just as it was free to use the internet on computers. The woman had been advising him for more than five years, it seemed like she read his thoughts, anticipated her orders, was proactive, loyal and trustworthy. The silent presence stood solemnly before her desk. - I need the managers' reports in ten minutes. - he said. - I already have them with me. He looked at her, smiling with satisfaction. - And the bovine semen stock control spread

bustle if I won't have a place to hold my business meetings? - Normally you ask me to book discreet hotels because of your companions... the app, that website... Well, you know. He didn't catch any censorship in the voice. - Ah, but now I'm committed, right? - He returned, trying hard to look serious. - It was... I mean, the call I just got. - She began, looking nervous. - I'm sorry, but your girlfriend put me in an embarrassing situation. - What news. - He commented, annoyed. - Block her number on your cell phone, that will solve the problem. - Well, that's more or less...

Well, just the other way around... She asked me to tell you that the relationship was over. Pedro smiled. - True? - Yes, I said that since she talks more to me than to you, she could end their relationship through me. - She commented, visibly embarrassed. - How inelegant of her. - he said, sighing deeply. She looked around as if searching for the right words to say to her subordinate. Not finding them, he turned to her and calmly commented: - The girl won't receive her birthday present, and you lost your morning off. The assistant showed no reaction that she wasn't going to continue looking at him as if she didn't fully understand why he didn't express any feelings in the face of the unexpected breakup. - Do you need anything else? - She returned to her solemn posture. And he focused back on her spreadsheets. - Cancel the trip to Pantanal, it will coincide with the date of my parents' golden wedding. - He sighed, resigned. - And I don't want to hear another Sermon on the Mount because of my absence and lack of empathy towards family social events, you have no idea how much yawning I have to control. He thought about Diana once again, the last time, considering she would no longer have company to take to her parents' wedding anniversary party. And that was a problem. Old Alacrán trusted married professionals more than singles, he was from the old guard, when everyone got married as soon as they entered their third decade of life. He believed, for example, that a married CEO was more mature and responsible. An old mentality that extended to children. Pedro and Paulo Henrique were mature and responsible and both single. But it seemed like their father didn't see them that way. For him, they were still kids in suits. And that's why he continued to work, postponing his retirement while he still occupied the room and the chair that so interested the Alacrán's firstborn. And now this! The breakup with the daughter of one of the Alacrán's friends. In fact, it was the third time he had been dumped by an acquaintance of his family, which caught his father's attention and took him further away from the presidency of the group, leaving the way clear for his brother, since he was involved in a relationship. apparently serious. He needed to reverse the situation, find a girlfriend who wouldn't bother him, leaving him free to work, exercising his right to be a workaholic without pressuring him, framing him, annoying him or ending the relationship. He no longer even remembered when he dumped a woman. What happened was that he forgot about their existence, it seemed strange to think that a man could forget that he had a girlfriend, but that was exactly what happened to him. He spent more time on the farm and traveling, leading meetings and conferences, giving talks and interviews. He had practically no personal life for years. Women were a detail, an accessory to take to ceremonies, as well as to vent their sexual needs. He eventually fell in love, he wasn't a guy with emotional problems and hell, he had feelings, he wasn't raised in a dysfunctional home. It just happened that, even in love, he didn't lose control of his feelings. He knew, for example, that passion was nothing more than a chemical change in the brain with a limited shelf life. And his life was much bigger than a mere hormone. Chapter 2 Pedro took a shower and shaved. He wore a dress shirt and dark jeans. He smoothed his light brown hair with his fingers as he walked down the stairs towards the dining room. He ignored the new decor, the dark, heavy furniture, the draped curtains, the antiques acquired by his parents on trips to Cairo, Dubai, and Athens. The mansion was filled with furniture and expensive objects. Two floors of luxury and ostentation, but also solidity. They had been rich for a long time, even before he was born, a fortune that grew year after year based on the pioneering work of the first Alacrán generation in the Midwest. His mother welcomed him in the middle of the room, with a smile on her face stretched by two plastic surgeries. His hair was brown, his makeup was impeccable, his clothes were discreet. He was wearing a beige skirt and blouse set, which matched the low-heeled shoes. Pedro inherited his mother's calm and controlled temper, the way he was able to deal with situations that took him seriously, his ironic smile and superior air were also inherited from his mother. The impetuosity and hunger for power, however, came from his father. - Apparently he'll be leaving after dinner. - she commented, approaching to kiss him on the cheek. - I hope it's at least for fun. He took her by the hand to take her with him to the dining room. - Yes, I'm going to have fun at a cocktail party with possible future clients. - Possible? - Ahem, possible, not every farmer thinks like a businessman. Some can only visualize the cost of the artificial reproduction business and cannot see its benefits. - Or they don't want to see the benefits. - That's right, mom. - He said, kissing her on the top of her head. - And Diana, will she come to dinner? No, she just dumped me. - A lot of work. - Poor thing. Then they say that the life of a model is easy. The funny thing... - he continued, now, stopping and turning to him: - is that I was with Julieta and she told me that her daughter was on vacation. Dona Luíza knew better than anyone how to throw green to harvest the ripe one. - So I think this vacation applies to me, I haven't seen her in days. - She commented, with studied naturalness, standing in front of the bar to serve herself a whiskey without ice. - These girls today value work more than their lovely boyfriends. He turned to his mother and saw her smiling at her husband. He thought, for a moment, that she was being sarcastic. But she was mistaken when examining her dreamy appearance. She had been married to the same man for fifty years and still seemed in love. She didn't remember ever seeing her parents fight. Frictions were resolved silently, with meaningful looks. She grew up in a happy, successful, harmonious and serene home. A perfect life, a safe haven, a well-structured family. She just wanted her old man to rest at home and let him take over as president. - Maybe Diana's boyfriend isn't that adorable, since he doesn't leave the office. - said the father, with a mischievous smile. - I hope she