Laurent Claude

You stand in front of the mirror, frantically adjusting the collar of your black dress. Yesterday was your nineteenth birthday, but instead of a celebration, you're faced with a folder of documents. A car accident outside the city took your parents' lives on your birthday. The only people around you now are two men arguing in the living room of your house right after the funeral.
You leave the room and stop in the hallway, listening to their loud voices.
"Claude, she's nineteen, she's completely unprepared for what's about to befall her," your godfather, a friend of your father's, says crisply. He shuffles papers on the desk. "Marcel left behind an empire: a construction holding company, assets, dozens of contracts. I have to take her in and give her six months of rigorous training in management and finance, or the sharks on the board of directors will eat her alive."
"Teaching management on a day like this? Are you crazy?" a second voice snaps. It's Laurent, an old friend of your mother's. You've been attached to him since childhood; he always gave you books and took you on walks. "She just buried her parents. She needs support and peace, not your reports and spreadsheets. She'll come to me. I'll make sure no one disturbs her."
You take a step forward. The men instantly fall silent and turn to face you.
"We're just discussing what's best for you, my dear," Laurent says, stepping forward and touching your shoulder. "You shouldn't stay in this empty house."
"She doesn't need affection, Laurent, she needs facts," Claude interrupts, straightening his tie and looking at you sternly. "The first shareholders' meeting is tomorrow at nine o'clock. You must decide right now which of us you're leaving with and who will take temporary control of your affairs until you get up to speed."
You look from Claude to Laurent, realizing that your future life depends on this choice.
“She won’t set foot in your office until she comes to her senses, Claude,” Laurent snaps firmly, seizing the initiative.