Chapter 19 - Kristopher
Last night I was up late, watching Georgie sleep. I can’t believe how pale she looked; usually, her porcelain skin glows with luster, but she just looks ashen and exhausted. I’m worried about her. I wish she’d told me earlier.
If she’s still feeling horrible when I get home later, I’m going to take her to the doctor. But today is already getting out of hand at work. This whole week has been a nightmare. I blame that for me not noticing what Georgie was struggling with. I feel terrible that I didn’t notice sooner.
Leonard walks into my office on the top floor of the warehouse. He looks defeated. He drops a pile of paperwork onto my desk. “You’re not going to like this,” he huffs. Instantly, my hackles are up.
“Just spit it out,” I snap at him.
He clenches his jaw, sighing in agitation. “Our alliances are all crumbling. The inner city agreements are disintegrating because of a series of attacks. I got the full report a moment ago.”
Last week, two strong inner-city allies messaged to inform me that we were no longer tied together, that they would not tolerate my power-hungry ego. They refused to say more, but the alliances were severed.
Yesterday, another of my allies withdrew from our previous agreement, and I had no choice but to get Leonard to start an urgent, very deep dive into whatever the hell was going on.
“And?” I huff. “Don’t make me read the whole fucking thing, just tell me.”
He pulls the chair out from opposite my desk and sits down, folding his arms across his chest as he leans back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this tired.
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask, a pang of guilt shooting through me for always being so hard on him.
“Not since Tuesday,” he grumbles. “Look, what’s happening is that someone is playing out a series of attacks against our inner-city alliances—but they are making it look like we did.
Our MO. Even some of our weapons are being used.
Most likely the ones stolen when we were experiencing those annoying attacks. ” He waits.
“Fuck,” I mumble, folding my arms across my chest and tilting my head back as I roll my neck. The muscles between my shoulders blades are tightening with stress. “And do we have evidence pointing to who it might be?”
“We both know who it is,” he snaps.
I nod. “We do. But do we have evidence?”
“Subtle. Not enough to show our allies and reassure them, but enough that it’s clear to us. If you plan on approaching the allies and proving anything to them, we need more than what we have.”
I swallow hard, huffing out a tight breath.
“Alright. Okay. Well, all we can do is try. You get out there and find me the evidence I need. I’ll get on the line with our allies and see what relationships I can salvage.
And this evening, I’m going to see if I can visit my father in person.
He won’t be able to resist gloating, and hopefully he’ll slip up and say something that damns him. ”
Leonard stands. “I’m going to put a team on that evidence hunt. I desperately need a few hours’ sleep, then I’ll be back in action. And if you’re going to try bait your father into confessing his shit, make sure you’re recording the conversation.”
“I will. Go ahead and get some rest,” I nod, gesturing for him to get out of here.
He’s no good to me in that state anyway.
It’s going to be another day of phone calls. Endless calls trying to mend these damaged relationships.
After each call, I hang up and immediately dial the next.
I don’t have a lot of time, and I have to try to speak to everyone.
If I can at least plant a seed of doubt in their minds, letting them understand that someone is trying to frame me, I can stop the cascading effects of being thrown to the wolves like this.
I talk for hours, working tirelessly to fix things. Leonard checks back in with me after he slept for a few hours. He stands in the doorway of my office and reports some good news. Finally, his team might be onto something. He’s going to check it out himself.
“Where?” I ask.
“Your old territory. The one you traded to Ali.”
“I’m coming with you,” I say immediately, standing up and getting ready to leave. I am so desperate for solid evidence. I’m tired of sitting behind a desk; I want to get my hands dirty.
“No, sir. We need to be stealth. You’re too well known. I’m sending a team of guys whom I’ve worked with for years. I’ll stay in the vehicle listening in, but they’re doing the footwork. I assure you, it’s better if you stay out of this for now.”
Frustration rolls through me, and I hesitate, caught between telling him I’m the one who calls the shots and he has no right to say no to me, and the fact that I know he’s right. If I show my face there, it will be like setting off an alarm. Everyone knows me.
“Fine. Keep me in the loop. I’m going crazy here,” I huff, dropping my jacket onto the back of my chair again.
“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything at all.”
I watch Leonard walk out of my office. I’m standing there without direction, unsure what to do.
I’m exhausted, I’m drained, I’m hungry. But I don’t want to go home just yet, because I can feel something is about to break in this investigation.
We’re close to something, and I want to be nearby when things happen.
It’s still early enough. Almost seven. The sky is only just starting to grow dark.
I sit down at my desk again and wait for his call.
***
Eight thirty-seven. That’s when my phone rings. Just as impatience is getting the better of me.
“Sir, the info was right. All of the material used in the attacks against us and our allies is being stored in the warehouses that make up Ali’s new territory, including a large number of your father’s products. This proves that they were working together.”
“Are you certain?” I growl, anger pulsing through me. Yes, I knew it was my father, but somewhere deep down, in some pointless pit of my thoughts, I had hope.
Pointless. That’s an understatement.
“Your father tends to store his weapons disassembled, to hide what they are. But I recognize it. I’ve seen it before in his own warehouses over the years. Ali and your father are definitely working together, from this territory.”
I shake my head. There seems to be no limits to the depths of my father’s betrayal of his own family.
“I guess I should go and see the old man, then,” I sigh.
Even though I said earlier that I was going to try to meet with him tonight, I was hoping to avoid it until we had more to go on. But now, it seems I don’t have much of a choice. Perhaps with this new information, I can force a confession out of him.
It’s late, and I find him at his home.
The guards let me in, and I park outside the front entrance and walk towards the door with a knot in my stomach.
I hate this.
I hate that this is what I have for a father figure.
That this man is the one who was supposed to teach me about life and how to be a decent person despite the world we live in.
I wish I had someone else. But those kinds of thoughts are also pointless.
Perhaps him being my father was karma left over from another life.
Some form of punishment for things I’ve done.
I don’t bother knocking. I’m sure the guards have already alerted him of my arrival. In the foyer, it’s quiet and dark; in fact, most of the house looks dark.
I walk through to the living room and find my father sitting next to the fireplace, the entire room filled with an orange, flickering glow.
He hears me coming but doesn’t turn to greet me.
“Hardly cold enough for a fire,” I remark, standing near the window with my hands shoved into my pockets, my face devoid of emotion as I watch him. He’s the one who taught me to be so stoic, so cold in negotiations. He taught me the importance of trusting no one.
“It’s not about the heat. It’s about the ambiance,” he replies without looking at me, his eyes glowing with the flames he’s staring into.
It’s to warm his cold heart, I think to myself.
“Why don’t you sit?” he gestures vaguely toward the sofa.
“No, thank you, I’m here on business.”
“Is that so? And what business might it be that you’re here for?”
“The business of the land I was forced to trade to Ali Koskos after you kidnapped Georgie and put her in danger.”
He snorts. Finally, he looks at me, amusement tinting his expression.
“Forced?” he muses.
“Yes. The very same territory where you and Koskos are now storing the weapons you’re using to attack my allies, making it look like I’m responsible.”
I keep my voice even, but the anger is edged in my words, and the accusation is clear.
“That’s a very bold thing to suggest,” he says, finally tearing his eyes from the fire and glancing at me. He looks amused.
“I have proof,” I say with confidence.
“Mm. Interesting. It sounds to me like what you’re really saying is that you fought for years to take full control of my companies, but now you can’t handle the stress of it, and you’re folding in a time of crisis.”
I sneer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of aggravating me, but fuck me, he’s smiling. Gloating.
He chuckles, a low, bitter sound as he stands, rolling his shoulders and moving towards the bar in a slow, lazy walk. “Do you want a drink?” he asks.
“I don’t want a fucking drink,” I snap.
He laughs again. “You really need to find a way to unwind. Being this worked up won’t get you anywhere, son.”
“Maybe if my own father wasn’t trying to throw me to the wolves, I’d be in a better mood.”
“Again, a bold statement. Blaming me for your inability to keep things in order is hardly a leadership quality. If you want help with the business, just ask. I’ll be happy to step in if you’re struggling.”
For years, I’ve been running the business. Years. He’s been off living a luxurious life, pretending to everyone else that he adds value, but anyone who works with me knows he’s been out of the picture.
All he wants is the title. I’ve taken it away from him, and now he’s throwing a tantrum.
If my father took control of the businesses, they’d collapse. He knows nothing about what’s been going on. He wouldn’t have a clue how to keep things running.
The fact that he can’t admit this, or give me an ounce of credit…
I’m losing control, ready to punch him in the face. I want to hear the satisfying snap of his nose breaking.
He picks up a crystal bottle and pours gold liquid from it into a matching glass. Ice chimes against the side of the glass as it stirs in the bourbon.
I take a step towards him, my fists clenched, diplomacy disappearing.
I want to grab the bottle from his hand and smash it against the side of his head.
This wasn’t my plan. I didn’t come here to fight him.
I came here to manipulate a confession from him.
But so far, all I’m gaining is more stress. More reason to hate the guy.
My phone rings.
The sound is jarring, pulling every muscle in my body tight for a second. But it also causes me to pause, pulling me from the brink of doing something stupid.
I turn my back on the old man and tug the phone from my pocket.
Georgie’s personal bodyguard.
Why is he calling me?
I answer in a hurry and speak in hushed tones.
“Is she okay?” I ask, my hand cupped over my mouth to muffle my conversation.
“Sir, she collapsed. I have her in the car, we’re on our way to the hospital. I don’t know what’s wrong, but she looks terrible.”
“Which hospital?” I demand.
“The Gold State. City Center. We’re a minute away.”
“Is she conscious?”
“In and out.”
“I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, I don’t even bother saying goodbye to my father.
He calls after me, “Kristopher? You aren’t staying for a drink? I thought you wanted to discuss me taking the stress of the business off your hands?”
A minute ago, his remark would’ve had me frothing again, but now my thoughts are elsewhere.
All I want is to be at her side.
Why didn’t I stay home today and take her to the doctor? Guilt stabs into me. It’s okay. She’s going to be okay.
I drive like a bat out of hell, realizing that there is only one thing in this world that really matters to me—her. I could lose everything else and still pick myself up. But if I lost her, I’d be destroyed.