DARK FAÏZ Book 1: Every hero has his legend

by Sandra L. Kiss

  An icy breeze grabbed me once outside. The change was radical. Fortunately, a driver with African American features and a short beard was waiting for us at our exit. Faïz and I rushed into the big black sport Range Rover 4X4. I remained silent during the whole journey, without really wishing to talk or provoke Faïz for pleasure, as I often did. I preferred to watch New York march before my eyes. I checked that I had packed a pencil and a notepad in my bag so that I could begin immediately during this first visit. Trac-Word's offices were located in Times Square, while one of the many laboratories was located elsewhere in Manhattan. The others were scattered on each of the other continents.

  "Are you all right? You haven't said a word since we landed." Faïz stared at me.

  It was not my habit to remain relatively silent, so he'd guessed that something was wrong.

  "It's all right. It's just the jet lag and the fact that I got up early this morning."

  I forced myself to adopt a positive and relaxed attitude. He observed me for long seconds, as if to inspect my thoughts.

  "Would you want to go shopping?"

  I almost strangled myself with surprise. Faïz Mattew wanted to do something with me, and what's more, shopping? The proposal was really tempting when you knew that New York was recognized worldwide as the capital of haute couture for its avant-garde taste in fashion. However, it was out of the question for me to be offered anything by this future business owner.

  "Not today, Faïz. Actually, I prefer to focus on my project."

  He turned his head to the other side, leaving me no chance to analyze his reaction. After several minutes of silence, it was as if Alibaba's doors were opening in front of me. I had the impression that the skyscrapers were moving away from each other, and we finally arrived at a place that I had only seen on television until then. The animated advertising billboards were gigantic, while the posters took over the entire front of the buildings. A flood of colors jumped to my retinas. Trac-Word was in the middle of other buildings, and the golden letters at the very top of the skyscraper did not go unnoticed. All this seemed unreal to me.

  Faïz contemplated me with a small grin at the corner of his lips, happy with the effect the view of the place caused. It was considered one of the most famous places in the world.

  "I don't get to see this every day," I whispered, hypnotized. "It’s even more impressive in real life."

  "I know. Even I don't get tired of it."

  His sentence seemed heavy with meaning, as if he were trying to get a message to me. I then turned to him, but before I could even say a word, our vehicle stopped beside the building. The driver opened the door for me, all his actions conditioned on not making any mistakes.

  "Please deposit our things at the Plaza Hotel," Faïz asked him before heading towards the front door.

  "Yes, sir, as you wish."

  The hall of the building seemed warm to me, contrary to what the exterior could well suggest. When the hostesses caught sight of Faïz, they immediately stopped whatever tasks they were carrying out.

  "Mr. Mattew, good morning. I will warn the management of your presence," one hostess said with a nice smile, and then she punched in a number on her phone.

  She had a pretty porcelain complexion marked with a fairly pronounced blush. Her short mahogany-colored hair highlighted her hazel eyes. A slightly mischievous, barely concealed look added charm to her character.

  "Thank you," replied Faïz in a neutral voice without one look for her.

  "Mr. Heath? Mr. Mattew has just arrived with Miss..."

  The hostess, embarrassed, looked at me, distraught, like a cry for help.

  "Reyes," I whispered to her.

  "With Miss Reyes."

  As she hung up, she gave me a grateful look.

  "Mr. Mattew, Mr. Heath is waiting for you in room K02."

  "Thank you, Mira," Faïz said, moving towards the elevators.

  Inside, he pressed number fifty-eight. "The view must have been worth it at this altitude," I thought. The elevator rushed through the transparent glass tube at a speed I didn't expect. Reflexively, I grabbed the railing next to me.

  The doors opened onto a large, curved corridor that led to a row of desks, closed doors along the walls. The impeccably clean black glazed floor reflected our own reflections. Faïz walked in silence, with a steady gate, in front of me. He suddenly stopped in front of a door where he knocked before entering.

  "Faïz Mattew!" exclaimed a man in his fifties, with pepper and salt hair, looking very classy.

  He wore a beautiful black suit with a white shirt, completely offbeat with Faïz's casual outfit that day. The man approached and gave him a familiar hug.

  "Oscar, this is Zoe Reyes."

  "So you're the one? The young spy in charge of writing the article?" He addressed me in a friendly and joyful tone.

  He held out his hand to me.

  "That's me, Mr. Heath," I replied in a shy voice.

  The CEO raised his hands to the sky.

  "Please call me Oscar!"

  He immediately relaxed the atmosphere. Oscar sat at his asymmetric dark oak desk and pressed a button on his fixed handsets.

  "Gladysse? Would you bring us some coffee and tea, please?"

  "Yes, Mr. Heath, the woman at the other end of the line answered."

  Oscar then turned to Faïz and clapped his hands, which reminded me of two bear paws. They seemed so thick to me.

  "So? What's the news from LA, my friend? Sorry about business class. I promise you that next time my assistant will make no mistakes with your private jet reservations."

  Surprised, I turned to Faïz and understood that he had not been joking with me on the plane. He dropped on the azure blue sofa, which was decorated with cushions embroidered with the company's initials, before answering.

  "Well, apart from the list of things I have to deal with, there's also also the succession of the position in Trac-Word. We are celebrating Victoria's birthday on Saturday. You are, of course, invited to the event."

  "Time passes quickly," Oscar said. "Already seventeen years old, and I saw her born. And you, look at you. You're a man now. I was practically your age when I came here. At the bottom of the ladder, certainly, but it was such a beautiful adventure for me."

  Oscar, now nostalgic, looked into the void. I began to detail the room. The modern and light decoration highlighted the contemporary style of furniture. The lamp, near the desk, formed a semicircle with an endless curve. After a short while, Oscar moved in front of the large windows overlooking Times Square, thus focusing entirely on the city. I, in turn, stepped forward to contemplate the winter view. At that moment, I felt like I was on the roof of the world. I, Zoe Reyes, from a small suburb of Paris, was in New York in one of the largest buildings.

  Faïz and the current CEO were discussing the figures and statistics for the last quarter. I managed to hear some snippets of their conversation. Oscar expressed concern about new competitors entering the market. Genetic research had never been more of an interest for scientific industry tycoons than it was now.

  "You understand, it's the new black gold for these sharks who don't understand anything about science!"

  "S&C and KFL will merge. That was to be expected. They will certainly work more deeply on the molecules in order to propose targeted therapies and meet an ever-increasing demand."

  "That's likely. Trac-Word must focus on the treatment of rare diseases. Our diversity in the current market would be detrimental."

  At that moment, Oscar's assistant came to slow down the conversation on a thorny and complex subject. I had every interest in assimilating the language necessary for the future of this company if I wanted to join the team. When I touched my hot cup of tea, I remembered that the temperature outside was near zero degrees, far from the dramatic heat score currently being achieved in Los Angeles. Faïz and Oscar resumed their discussions even more. While I tried not to let go of the thread of the conversation, someone came knocking again at the door. Two
heads appeared. The first was a small man in his early thirties, blond and with a bowl cut. His round glasses literally ate his baby face. I was amazed by his relaxed style, which was none other than low-waist jeans and a hoodie. The second, of the same age, was more enveloped, just as blond and with a short, military-style cut. Both seemed comfortable, as if they were at home, obviously happy to be there.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Mattew."

  The young man with a Playmobil's haircut mimed a small amused bow towards Faïz, followed by his accomplice. Oscar introduced me immediately.

  "Gentlemen, this is Zoe Reyes, whose mission is to write an article on Trac-Word. It will appear in the next issue of So Home News magazine."

  Faïz instinctively took the floor by pointing to the two men.

  "You have in front of you Tick and Tock."

  "Hello, I'm Andy," one said, staring at my eyes, undoubtedly impressed by their color.

  "Hello, Miss Reyes. I'm James. Don't listen to Mr. Mattew, he likes to joke," whispered the other to me, making fun of his future CEO.

  I raised my eyes to heaven. He likes to joke? Well, come on. It was the first time I had seen Faïz joking with other people. It comforted me to know that he had a social and human side, far from the image of the sociopath he liked to give.

  "Zoe, tomorrow you will be with Andy, James, and Chloe, who will brief you on the company and answer all your questions," Oscar said.

  "Thank you, Mr. He... Uh, Oscar."

  He nodded at me, then turned to Faïz again.

  "Did you introduce Chloe to Zoe?"

  "Not yet. Given the late hour, she must have already left. They'll meet tomorrow morning, but Chloe knows about Miss Reyes' visit."

  "Perfect. Oh, yes... I almost forgot, there's an important reception tomorrow night at the Sainte Regis. Your presence is required."

  Oscar then addressed me.

  "This also applies to you, Zoe."

  — "For God's sake," Faïz grumbled putting one hand behind his neck. "I had completely forgotten about that reception."

  "I am still the CEO for a few months, so I will not accept any excuses for tomorrow's gala."

  Despite the time difference and my waking up early that morning, my brain started to work at full speed. Gala meant crowd, meant reception, meant evening dress, meant disaster. I went through my things in my mind and realized that I had absolutely nothing to wear for tomorrow night.

  We headed for the exit to take our leave.

  "See you tomorrow, Miss Reyes," James said, shaking my hand.

  "Call me Zoe," I said with a big smile before going out into the hallway.

  "She looks adorable," he whispered to his colleague.

  Adan was waiting for us downstairs. The night had fallen on the city. I noticed that Times Square had doubled its numbers, despite the unbearable cold. The crossroads attracted many people with its neon lights, restaurants, and shops open day and night. A perfect place for insomniacs. I rushed into the vehicle, followed by Faïz. A few seconds had been enough to refrigerate me. I blew on my hands to warm them up as quickly as possible.

  "To the Plaza Hotel," Faïz said to the driver.

  "Yes, Mr. Mattew"

  Faïz then turned to me.

  "How did you find Oscar?"

  "He seems to be a good person, from what I saw today. He was even affectionate with you."

  He looked satisfied with my answer.

  "He is a good person indeed. I've known him all my life. He really managed this company with a masterful hand, and as my grandfather wished."

  "Does he know about you and the other Leviathans?"

  "I don't think so. We are very discreet on the subject, even with family friends."

  He suddenly changed the subject, as usual.

  "The hotel has very good restaurants. If you don't mind, we'll have dinner there."

  "That's fine with me. I'm starving."

  He stared at me, amused. He was once again in a good mood, so I was as well, even if Rachelle's image on the screen of his iPhone remained in a corner of my head.

  "Here is Broadway, a mythical street in the city," he pointed out to me through my window.

  My head turned around to discover the place with its world-famous name.

  "It is one of the oldest areas in New York."

  The biggest television shows had their headquarters in the area, as well as the big stock exchange companies. People from all over the world went there to realize the American dream. Indeed, everything was possible. It was a totally different world.

  We rode along Fifth Avenue. The horns in the heavy traffic drowned out Leon Bridges' voice in "Coming Home," which played over the Range Rover's speakers. After several minutes, we arrived at our destination. My eyes widened at the facade of the hotel, worthy of a real palace. A valet rushed to meet us and welcomed us. As I descended, I noticed a parade of luxury cars stopping or leaving from the prestigious entrance. It was partially covered with greenery and plants that gracefully climbed the walls. Faïz approached very close to me to whisper in a charming voice in my ear,"You don't seem too disappointed with the hotel."

  "The outside is... I can't even find a word to describe it."

  "Wait till you see the inside, then."

  He passed in front of me to enter this scandalously sumptuous place. Indeed, when I arrived in the hall, I noticed that he had not lied. The place had all the ostentatious signs of wealth. Great chandeliers descended from the ceilings, creating a timeless parenthesis, as if we were in a palace filled with personalities from all over the world. Works of art such as Monet or Picasso were hung on the walls, blending into this luxurious and ancient setting, with the powerful technology of our time. I discreetly took my Samsung out of my bag.

  "What are you doing?" objected Faïz.

  "Pictures for the girls."

  At the reception, a man immediately appeared before us.

  "We have two reservations in the Mattew name."

  The man consulted this information on a computer and then looked up with a very courteous smile.

  "Would you like the Royal Plaza Suite as usual, Mr. Mattew?"

  "No, just two communicating suites, please."

  The receptionist validated the request and then put two badges into service.

  "The suites are on the fifteenth floor. The bellboy is leaving your luggage in your rooms. If you need any service, do not hesitate to ask one of our staff. I wish you a pleasant stay in our establishment, Mr. and Mrs. Mattew."

  We left for the elevators, a little embarrassed by the young man's a priori, but deep down inside it didn't bother me completely. Faïz had not bothered to correct the misunderstanding. Inside the cabin, the lift operator took us to our floor.

  "Are you going to be all right?" asked Faïz in front of my door without taking his eyes off me.

  "Yes, I think so," I confirmed. I couldn't turn my eyes away from his sublime face.

  "I'll pick you up at nine o'clock."

  With an effort, I managed to detach my pupils from his, thus breaking the disturbing atmosphere between us. I looked at my watch, realizing that I only had thirty minutes left.

  Upon entering, I discovered a room with an immense surface area with a high ceiling. My suite had a living room, a kitchen, a private terrace, and a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom in marble. This included a shower and a large and deep bathtub. The incredibly charming suite housed chandeliers, gold-plated furniture, and a marble dressing table in an old-fashioned style for glamorous comfort. I had a wonderful view of Central Park and all of Manhattan. The city seemed infinite. The soft and muffled lighting accentuated the graceful setting. I took my phone out of my purse again and decided to call Asarys on video call to share it with her. In Los Angeles it was early afternoon. She immediately answered, and to my great surprise, I noticed that she was at the library in a place where she managed to pick up the good network.

  "Oh, my God! You little bitch. You don't deny yourself anything." She cursed softl
y to avoid being noticed.

  "I am in my suite at the Plaza," I articulated carefully to provoke her.

  "Take me around so I can enjoy it, too."

  Without waiting, I began the tour of the place, not forgetting a single corner.

  "Look at that! There's even perfume for our pillows!"

  "When I think that I'm here, working like a slave, in a heat to drop dead, while you're playing Cinderella…" my friend grumbled.

  "There is justice in this world. That's all."

  "What justice?! Did you know that architect Henry Janeway Hardenberg designed that little gem?"

  "Of course not. Why would that interest me? I've never heard of it."

  "An effort, Zoe. A little history wouldn't hurt you," she scolded me. "He was inspired by the castles of the French Renaissance and the Louis XV style. You love Hitchcock. Scenes from North by Northwest were shot there, as well as Bride Wars and Suits."

  "It's totally romantic. I appreciate this place even more now," I said in a low voice, lost in thought.

  I pulled myself together without delay and added,

  "Anything new in Los Angeles besides the heat wave?"

  "Haven't you watched the news yet?"

  Asarys' worried voice alerted me immediately.

  "No, I haven't had time to sit down since we landed."

  On the screen, her expression changed. I felt that something serious had happened. I froze, dreading the rest.

  "A violent fire broke out near Santa Monica, along the Pacific Coast. No one knows how this disaster will develop. Some areas had to be evacuated. It decimates everything in its path and threatens the interior."

  Immediately, I thought of Faïz's family.

  "Victoria, Lily, and Charles are safe?" I hastened to ask, a ball in my stomach.

  "Yes, for the moment the interior is not concerned. However, the trip to Sonoma may be canceled. Highways in this direction are completely blocked."

  "I'll call the Mattew tomorrow."

  I pinched my lips, not able to stop thinking about The Maestro.

  "Okay, I have to get back to work. I'm in an annex wing where the network is good, but they'll be looking for me soon. Enjoy your meal with your prince, and I want to know everything about your evening."