30. CARLOS
CARLOS
I t’s early evening and the sun has started to set.
I’m sitting in my bedroom, waiting for a call from Dima, who texts me to say that he is calling me in the next few minutes as they have arrived at their AirBnB, not too far from here.
I’m nervous that they are here in case they do something stupid, like try to storm the mansion.
My phone rings with a video call, and I answer without hesitation.
Dima and Lev’s faces fill the screen. They look tired, pissed and agitated.
Lev’s hair that's normally in a military cut has grown a little.
His green eyes stare me down like they can hurt me through the screen.
Dima still looks impeccable, considering the journey.
His black hair is perfect, his beard neatly trimmed and those husky blue eyes full of ill intent. Maybe for me or the whole situation.
“It’s hot as fuck here,” Lev complains.
“Will you shut up about the damn weather and focus?” Dima admonishes and Lev scowls.
“How was the journey?” I ask. They don’t look impressed.
“Who gives a fuck about the journey? We’re here and want to get our boy back and get home. I assume you have a plan?” Dima says, irritated and eager to get the ball rolling.
“I’ve agreed to take over from my father as heir. But it's complicated. I’m meeting with a rival group who I think I can make a deal with to help me secure the house. Get Simon out and then clean up the problem.”
“How many men are there?”
“Guards, I’m not sure, but at least twenty to twenty five on rotation, if not more.”
“Shit. This rival, can they take your dad on? Do you trust them?” Lev asks.
“No I don’t trust them, but I have something they want that I can give them.
It’s a deal I think they will snap my hand off for, but I have to be careful.
I can’t leave the house currently until I’m trusted not to run, so I have a contact setting up a meeting.
Then I just need to find a way to get there. ”
“What can we do?” Dima asks.
“When they come to secure the house, you can come in and retrieve Simon and take him home. You don’t need to be involved with the rest. That's my concern.”
“Hold on, what about us that want in on the action?” a voice shouts from behind them. Half of a face appears on the screen. Ivan.
“How many of you are here?”
“Aside from us, Jules and Aaron. Noah and Chase are flying over too,” Dima says.
“Tyler’s brother, Chase? Why?”
“Noah wanted to see what was going on, apparently. Chase couldn’t convince him not to get involved. Besides, it's his jet we’re using so I couldn’t say no,” Dima says.
“Yes you could if you had the balls. That Noah is a dick,” Lev says.
I haven’t met Chase. But I briefly met Noah at the docks when he came to disperse of that Tim guy. He didn’t talk. But he was freakin’ intimidating.
“Don’t talk about my bestie like that. He’s great and we could use him if needed,” Ivan says like a fangirl.
“Look, I’ve got to go as I have to meet with my father, but I will message you when I have made contact with the rivals and then we can end this.”
“How is Simon?” Dima asks.
“In pain. Broken. Hates me.”
“I’m not happy about what's happened, Carlos. Far from it. But I get the situation. You had to do what you thought was right to get you all out safely,” Dima says and I’m suddenly overcome with the feeling of a weight lifting off my shoulders that someone else understands. Can see that I would never hurt Simon.
“Thanks D.”
“We’ll wait for your call,” Lev says before bluntly ending the video call.
I’m actually glad they are here. It will be good for Simon to see them, to know he has people who care, because I’ve done a pretty shit job so far.
A knock on my door, before it opens, pulls me from those thoughts. Mark.
“Hey. you remember dinner with your father, right? I’ve just seen him downstairs waiting.”
“Oh shit. I got carried away talking to the guys.”
I stand up and hurriedly change my shirt and spray on some deodorant. I haven’t had time to shower, so I need to mask any smells. I quickly wash my face and fuss with my hair until I look acceptable. Like a Silva. Because I need to act my ass off.
My phone buzzes with a text. Pedro.
P: I’ve made contact. They’ll meet with you tomorrow at eleven pm. I will forward you the location in the morning. It's only a thirty minute drive. Please be careful. They were on edge when I spoke to them. I think they’re expecting an attack so keep your cool, and text me when finished.
Me: Thank you. I will.
Yes. This will help in the dinner meeting tonight. I need to convince my father I'm serious. And what better way than bringing peace between rivals.
Walking into the dining room is like deja vu of our previous meal in terms of the layout and obnoxious dinnerware.
The only difference is a new addition that makes me nauseous with disgust whenever I see it.
My brother, Enrico. Not only have I got to fake my way through this dinner, I will have to physically restrain myself from launcing across the table to bleed the fucker.
I take my place to the right of my father, Enrico on the left, meaning I'm staring right across the table at the piece of shit that will soon know what consequences are.
Revenge. I will make sure he feels as hopeless and afraid as he made Simon feel.
But I need to be smart. The reward will be worth the wait.
“Tell me son, now that you have had the day to reflect. Are you ready to start work? To forget about your old life?” my father inquires as he cuts into the seabass on his plate.
I have zero appetite, but I nevertheless force myself to be normal.
Like nothing has happened to cause me to lose my appetite.
I taste nothing as I eat a piece of the fish, I'm just doing the motions of eating, swallowing and repeat.
“Yes. I’ve actually been catching up on what I’ve missed, making sure I’m in the loop.”
My father reaches for his wine glass, but stops mid drink, looking at me with shock and a mild admiration.
“Really? Well that's great news. Anything you have heard in particular that you have any suggestions on? He asks before taking a sip of his wine.
“Actually, I was surprised to hear about the issues you’ve had with the Marins. It sounds like they have grown considerably since I left.”
He does a dismissive grunt while placing his glass back onto the table.
“They’re a nuisance. Greed has gotten the better of them, thinking they can take any of my holdings. Out of their depth.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Enrico mumbles, stuffing his face like the piece of trash he is.
“That’s because you never watch and listen,” my father scolds him. It's like being teenagers again with the constant push and pull between them, just before my father would tell him to be more like me.
Before Enrico starts to kick off, starting another argument, I quickly move back to the topic, not wanting my father to lose track.
“I was thinking, it might be a good idea if I go meet with them? A little persuasion to make them back off for good.”
“You want to meet them?”
“Yes. It's a perfect opportunity for me to prove my loyalty. Plus the more I think about it, the more I remember how much I miss this place. I want to jump back in. No point tiptoeing.”
My father nods slowly, agreeing while processing what I've just said.
“I also think it would be a great opportunity to take Enrico along? Get him acquainted with meeting these people. Call it training.”
“You’re not seriously listening to him are you, Father? He just wants me to get hurt.”
“Oh if I want you to hurt, I’ll do it myself,” I provoke, and it works.
“You smug…” Enrico starts to say, but my father raises a hand to stop him.
“Hush, Enrico. Your brother has a point and I agree. You need to start becoming more involved with the business.”
“But why? Golden boy is back now. What use am I?”
“You are here to work. If for some reason, Carlos was unable to perform a task, you would be his number two. You’re not a man of leisure, Enrico. We’re Silvas. We work and run empires.”
“Not everyone is made for this world, Enrico. I can always assign someone else if it's too much,” I say, revelling in his look of pure hate toward me. He wants to lash out like the spoiled child that he is. I’m gonna make him squirm before taking him apart.
“I can handle anything, just as much as you can,” he sneers. I take a gulp of wine, enjoying the heat of the alcohol as it lights up my blood with determination.
“Good. We’re meeting them tomorrow, so be ready.”
“Since when did you arrange this without my approval?” my father demands.
“You said you want me to become the heir, be by your side. I would assume you wouldn’t want me asking you to hold my hand like a child.
I wanted to take initiative, prove to you that I’m in this.
I’ve had time to think and what better way than for me to just get the ball rolling.
The Marins will be more receptive to a new face. ”
“I’m not sure about this. They play dirty.”
“I have gotten experience dealing with new crews everyday from what I did back in America.
I know how to woo a new client. That's what I'll do here. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Make a deal to get them to back off, and when it's settled, attack them. Take over their business and expand the Silva name. Put fear into others that we bite,” I sound so convincing for a second I forget that I’m lying. But he’s falling for it.
His ego would never allow him to read between the lines.
“I’m impressed, son. Your ruthless side you get from me.”
I smile, and it hurts my face to force the muscle to perform the move.
“What about fuckboy?” my brother says. I curl my feet in my shoes so as not to show my true emotion.
“What about him?” I ask with a shrug.
“Have you checked on him? Seen my handiwork up close?” he laughs.
“No. I’ve been too busy working. You both conflated what that really was. It was never a thing. We can send him back to the states in the next day or two when he can sit upright.
“I knew you would come back, son. A toast…” he says raising his glass, and we both follow.
“The Silvas,” he says with pride, like it's something to be proud about. “The Silvas,” we say together, and the bile in my throat struggles to stay down as I swallow the wine.