Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
“Iam sorry, sir,” Yuki says during the drive, and I glance over, looking for clarification. “I shouldn’t have made you go to that party last night—”
“Yuki, it isn’t your fault my ex is a prick. Thank you for taking me to Nikko when I asked.”
“More like demanded.” He grins. “I think the actual words were, ‘Take me to my boxer or I’ll kick your formal ass.’”
I scoff, and he grins. Reaching over, I pat his arm. “I mean it. It isn’t your fault. Thank you for trying to cheer me up yesterday. I enjoyed seeing my friends. Ignore Faiz, that’s what I intend to do.”
“Yes, sir, but say the word and within ten minutes, I will have every news outlet reporting his dirty dealings,” Yuki offers, and I glance over with a wicked grin.
“Been collecting secrets, have you?” I tease.
“Always, sir, when it comes to you. You never know when we’ll need them. Even though he was your fiancé, I couldn’t take any risks. You say the word and I can destroy him for you.”
“You’re a good friend, Yuki.” I sigh, and he startles, blushing slightly. “I’m lucky to have you, and I mean that, but let him destroy himself. I’m focusing on the future, nothing else.”
“Yes, sir.” His voice is choked, and I look away to let him have his privacy. Despite what Faiz did, I had a good night with Nikko, and this morning was fun. Teasing him and his dad, having breakfast with them . . .
I liked it and want to do it again, but reality comes crashing down as we pull up to the construction site. My workers are yelling and rioting, with police leading some into a van.
“What’s happening?” I ask Yuki.
“I’m not sure, sir.” He leaps from the car, and I follow closely, striding over to the closest officer.
“Who is in charge here?” he asks, the officers turning to eye me.
“I am Zia Xander, and this is my project. What’s going on?” I ask.
“You are Mr. Xander?” he calls.
“Yes.” I wait impatiently, and he nods.
“We need you to come with us, sir, just to answer some questions.”
“What questions?” I inquire, and I look at my employees who are being arrested. “What’s happening?”
“We can discuss that at the station, if you will follow me,” he says, but it’s an order.
“Are you telling me or asking me?” I retort, making sure he is very clear. This isn’t my first run-in with the law.
He hesitates at my tone. “Asking, sir.”
“Fine, then I will follow you. Yuki,” I snarl as I turn.
We take our own car, but it’s very obvious we had no choice as we are led to an interrogation room. There are no cuffs, but I still sit stiffly. Yuki was not allowed in, but I know he’s already called our lawyer. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a police station, and it won’t be the last.
Power brings its own issues.
Leaning back in my chair, I eye the officers opposite me and let them sweat it out, even as they try to do the same to me, but they should know I don’t scare easily. I know they are only doing their job, but I’m annoyed. They have put me behind schedule and brought me here without any explanation.
“Sir—”
“You will explain why my employees are being detained and why you brought me here,” I demand. “Now.” I rap my knuckles on the table for emphasis.
“Sir, we ask the questions here,” the one on the left replies nervously.
“Then ask and be quick about it. I am very annoyed right now, and that does not bode well for you. I am assuming you have around four minutes before my lawyer arrives and you lose your jobs,” I admit.
“Pretty cocky for someone being interviewed by the police. Obviously you aren’t scared of being here. Faced a lot of charges? Does money always get you off?” the one on the right taunts.
Ah, this one has issues with power and money. Good to know.
“Is that a question?” I ask, refusing to give him a reaction.
“Sir, we had anonymous reports that your employees were using the construction as a money laundering front. We have to investigate claims like this,” the one on the left says.
Interesting. Someone reported the project?
Who?
Faiz?
Another family?
Annoyed landowners?
The list is endless, but I will get to the bottom of it. You don’t fuck with my family and get away with it, and whoever is responsible will pay.
“You have nothing to say to that?” the one on the right snarls. Hatred burns in his eyes as he tries to intimidate me, but I relax back, a smirk dancing on my lips.
“It was not a question,” I drawl just as the door opens, and I glance at my watch. “Two minutes, impressive.”
Queenie Mitchel sweeps into the room, taking a seat. “I am Mr. Xander’s lawyer and representative. It is unorthodox to begin an interview without me here—”
“He asked,” the one on the right interjects, looking sour.
“And I am telling you this interview is over. Any other meetings will go through me with the proper procedure, is that understood? You overstepped, officer. Mr. Xander is here as a willing guest, yet you are treating him like a criminal for what charges?” They share a look, and she pins them with a cruel glare that would make grown men cry.
She’s highly intelligent, but it’s her ball busting personality I love.
She knows how to handle herself, and she isn’t afraid of anything.
“Exactly. Either file charges or we are leaving, but if you had any evidence, you would have booked him already. Are the police so bored that they must chase rumors about an upstanding businessman like Mr. Xander?”
I smirk as I let her talk.
“Does she do all the talking for you?” the one on the right retorts.
“When I pay her millions to? Absolutely.” I arch a brow. “I’m not an expert at the law like her, just well versed. Why wouldn’t I defer to those with knowledge in this area?”
“That’s enough. We have been more than accommodating of this waste of Mr. Xander’s precious time. I will not let this stand.”
The door bursts open, admitting a familiar ruddy face who glares at the officers.
“What are you doing, you morons?” he roars before glancing at me.
“Mr. Xander,” the commander gushes. “I am so sorry for this mess. I had no idea my officers were bringing you in. All I can do is apologize. Please tell your father I am very, very sorry. I will ensure this never happens again.”
“You better,” I inform him, my voice cold to show how serious I am. I might not have reacted, but I’m mad.
Very, very mad.
“You have wasted my and my employees’ time.” I stand, buttoning my jacket. “Next time, I will not let this go.”
“Of course, Mr. Xander,” the commander replies as he presses against the door to allow me by. “Allow my officers to escort you out—”
“No need.” I hold my hand up. “But they will escort my employees back to work or home, wherever they wish to be, and will apologize to them.”
“Of course, Mr. Xander.” He nods, and as soon as I walk away, I hear him shouting at the officers who brought me in.
“I will deal with this, Mr. Xander. I apologize for being late,” Queenie says as we head to the front door.
“No problem. If you discover who put in the complaints, I would be interested.”
“Of course, sir, have a good day.” She heads back into the station as we walk through the doors, Yuki falling into step at my side.
“Yuki, compensate the employees for today and make sure no bad press or records are recorded on them,” I tell him.
“Yes, sir.” He hurries to the car that idles outside and opens the door for me, but two males cross my path, cutting me off.
“Baby,” the man whines. He looks familiar, and I eye him. His yellow-and-purple-striped jacket has a racing logo that I’ve definitely seen before. I think we considered sponsoring them.
“Enough, Skylar.” The tattooed man across from him crosses his arms. “You promised no more arrests.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he begins.
“Assault charges—”
“I hit him once. He was looking at your ass!”
The tattooed man sighs, and the other man, Skylar, kisses him softly. “You look so sexy when you’re in lawyer mode.”
“I thought we were past me bailing your ass out,” he grumbles, but he relaxes, letting Skylar take his hand. “I’m going to tell Noah.”
“No, baby, please—” He follows after him, and I chuckle, shaking my head as I climb into the car. It seems I’m not the only troublemaker in Pine Valley.
The lights in my office are bright, the sun long since set, but I had to clear up the mess from today, ensuring staff and investors as well as the board that everything is fine and we can continue. I have a blaring headache and want to hit the fuck out of someone.
My computer dings repeatedly as emails come through, and I pinch my nose in exhaustion, trying to stave off the headache. Grabbing my reading glasses, I put them on and focus on the screen, loading my emails. I reply one by one until I come to the most recent.
It’s from a random email address I’ve never seen, and the content has my eyebrows ising.
GET OUT OF PINE VALLEY
OR ELSE
“Or else what?” I scoff. “You need to be more specific if your threats are going to scare me.” I mark it and shoot it off to security, then I pick up my phone. “We have another one. Try to trace it.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hang up. Threats are an everyday occurrence in my line of work. From families who are pissed off we are selling land to competitors or petty keyboard warriors, we take everyone seriously since we can never be too careful, especially after today.
It’s clear someone is gunning for me.
I will find out who, and when I do, they will regret ever coming up against me.