22. EXPOSED
EXPOSED
KARSON
Gus pulled up in front of the glassy building as I went over my speech in my head one last time.
“Well, this is it, kid,” he said.
“Wish me luck.”
His eyes locked on mine in the rearview mirror. “You won’t need it,” he said with an unwavering stare. “I have complete faith in you, lad. Just give me the word when you’re ready. I’ll make sure the escape car is ready and waiting.”
I drew my shoulders back and gave a brief nod.
“Now get in there. I know you’ll make me proud.”
“I will, Gus. Whatever happens, it ends tonight,” I said quietly.
With my pulse sprinting, I stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk. The doorman greeted me by name as he held the door open. It was like entering the lair of a dragon. My palms were sweating, my stomach knotting.
I scanned the room, where hundreds of immaculately dressed investors congregated in the enormous, elaborately laid-out conference center.
Silverware and glassware sparkled beneath the glimmering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
The crystals illuminated the room with elegant streams of light.
Each round dinner table was set with fine porcelain and an opulent orchid bouquet as the centerpiece, the delicate scent lingering in the air.
Waitstaff clad in black pants and crisp white shirts moved through the crowd, balancing trays of wine and appetizers, the room abuzz with chatter.
Drink up, enjoy yourselves while you can.
I was sorry my news was about to ruin the evening, but I had bigger problems to be concerned about. I waited patiently, standing to one side in the shadows, avoiding everyone. This was not the night for small talk.
I scoured the room. No sign of father dearest yet. What if he’s a no-show? My mouth was dry, and a light sweat broke out on my brow. This will end him… it’s the only way.
What he was doing was wrong on so many levels. I knew beyond a shadow of doubt now, that he had no limits to what he would do for money, even risking me going to prison by pinning his crimes on me.
As a waiter passed by, I grabbed a drink, draining it in one gulp. After taking a few slow breaths, I set the glass down on another waiter’s tray. As I declined her offer of another, I pulled out my phone.
KARSON: Gus, be ready. I’ll be out right after I topple him.
Applause echoed around the room as the speaker on the podium concluded. I headed for the stairs. My heart pounded in my ears, but I blocked it out.
The previous speaker slapped me on the back as she passed me on her way down from the stage. “Good luck,” she said jovially.
“Thanks,” I replied, taking a shaky breath and walking over to the podium. I studied the room as the crowd chatted merrily, waiting for me to get started. Is he even here? I drew my shoulders back, steadying myself as I raised my chin to the audience.
“Good evening. Thank you for having me tonight. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Karson Wells.” Applause and murmurs resounded, my gaze fixed on the crowd until the noise dissipated. “As you probably know, Karlos Wells is my father,” I said calmly.
A sea of heads turned to the right, pulling my attention to the far corner of the room.
So, he is here.
He stood poised, next to the side exit. I bristled at his confident posture and polished appearance.
“As you know,” I continued, “SolStar has gone from strength to strength over the years and become the vastly successful company you all know. Many of you here have invested heavily in it.”
I shifted my attention to the floor for a few seconds before looking up again. “I’m sure you’ve all seen the controversial media coverage SolStar’s been generating lately. But it hasn’t stopped the share price from climbing to the highest level on record.”
I bit down on my lip, suppressing a grimace. The room filled with chimes of laughter as heads bobbed in delight.
Right, here we go. “Unfortunately, SolStar’s long pattern of success is about to end.”
I’m taking you down, you prick.
Confused murmurs grew into discontented shouts that swelled through the room. One woman almost choked on her canapé, while beside her an elderly gentleman’s mouth fell open.
Across the room, a man in a navy business suit and bow tie peered over his glasses at the stage, his disapproving expression frozen into place.
The murmuring grew louder. “If I may continue… please,” I shouted over the noise.
A deathly quiet fell over the room as all eyes fixed on me.
“It gives me no pleasure to report that corruption has reached deep into the heart of the company’s management.”
Gasps rippled through the room as people turned to each other in shock.
“Irrefutable evidence exposing ongoing systemic criminal activity has come to my attention.”
Chaos erupted.
Guests leaped from their chairs, scrambling in pockets and bags for their phones, desperate to dump their shares before the news broke and the price plunged.
The bright lights came on, my eyes shifted to the side exit, expecting to see my father.
Broken.
But I was too late… he was gone.
I flinched as the glass door leading to the pickup area swung back and forth. Through the thick glass, I caught the blur of a figure getting into a metallic silver Porsche. The powerful roar of the engine cut through the room as it sped away.
Cries of fury rang out as panic took hold. “Quiet, please,” I said, raising my voice a notch.
Angry stares locked onto me in search of answers, but a hush fell over the room.
“Evidence confirms my father, Karlos Wells, was at the center of these illegal activities. I’ll hand that evidence, and any other details required, to the authorities for them to conduct a full investigation, with which, of course, I will cooperate fully.”
Relentless shouting erupted from every corner of the room.
“Please, allow me to continue.” Sweat broke out across my brow.
“I’m aware many of you have invested in SolStar and want answers.
” I loosened my tie and undid the top button on my shirt.
“As an investigation unfolds, more information will come to light. However, while it’s underway, I will not be making any further comments about this matter, publicly or privately—”
Propelled by angry shouts, I abandoned the stage and hurried out the door to the pickup area. As promised, Gus was waiting. I dived into the back seat, slamming the door behind me.
“Gus, head to the fucking airport. Fast,” I said in a strained voice.
“Going somewhere?” Gus glanced at me in the rearview mirror, then I filled him in on the speech and Karlos’s hasty departure.
“Yeah, I saw him leave. He was in quite the hurry… I guess he didn’t want to stay for dessert,” Gus said drily as he pulled away.
I flopped back against the seat, my muscles weak. “He’ll want to flee the country to avoid prosecution.”
“Are you sure you should go after him?” Gus asked in alarm.
“He’s a monster and I fucking hate him. But I need to look him in the eye and ask him why.”
“Hold tight,” he said with a quick nod.
Gus hit the accelerator. As we sped off through traffic, I imagined what I’d say to the bastard.
But halfway there, three lanes of traffic merged into one, slowing the car to a crawl in the tunnel as flashing lights glowed up ahead.
“No!” I groaned, putting my head in my hands. “Not now!”
“Sorry, mate, that’s bad luck,” Gus said with a frown. “Don’t give up yet. There’s still hope.”
A symphony of horns blasted as one guy got out of his car. He started yelling at the young woman directing traffic, demanding to know how long the delay would be.
When he poked her on the shoulder, Gus let out a gasp.
My hand shot toward the door handle.
Fucking moron!
“Gus, pass me your cap,” I instructed, before he handed it to me without a word. I pulled it down over my brow, flung open the door, then got out.
“Can I help at all?” I asked, stopping in front of the traffic controller.
“Look, I was just explaining that we’re trying to get the traffic moving as fast as possible,” she said shakily. “I’ve asked this man to get back into his vehicle.”
I tilted my head, signaling for him to go back to his car. “C’mon, just do what she asked. Don’t make her job harder than it needs to be.”
“Fuck off, mate, this is not your business,” he replied, his mouth turning up at one corner into a sneer.
The traffic controller took a step back, then flicked me a quick, grateful glance.
I strode toward the man, grabbed his arm, pinned it behind his back, and marched him to his car, ignoring his shouts, then closing his door after him. Despite his protests through the window, he stayed where he was.
I was glad I’d pulled my cap low when I spotted someone filming through their open window. More media attention was not something I wanted.
After a twenty-minute hold-up, we crept past the cause of the delay—a truck and two cars locked together.
The tow truck drivers worked to separate them. Thankfully, it seemed no one was injured. Finally, the blocked lanes cleared, and we raced ahead.
I was sure the chance to confront my father had slipped through my fingers.
But I had to try.
***
Gus pulled into the airport departures zone just as the silver Porsche drove away. I shoved open the car door and lunged onto the sidewalk, searching frantically as I made my way inside.
Have I missed him?
Pushing through the thick crowd, I scanned the sea of travelers until my gaze landed on a familiar head and shoulders.
Gotcha!
He was hurrying toward the security line. The vein in my neck spasmed as I strode toward him, my eyes boring into his back. I drove my finger into his shoulder blade.
“Why?”
He spun around, mouth agape.
“How could you do this?” I demanded, my nostrils flaring. “You had it all,” I rasped. “But you fucked it up.” I swung my clenched fist through the air.
His face was like stone as he tried to push past. “Get out of my way.”
But he wasn’t getting off that easily. I blocked his path.
“You’re not going anywhere. I want some answers,” I said bitterly, curling and uncurling my fist. “Weapons trading, hey? What kind of person does that?” I shoved him in the chest.