by Olivia Harp
Jason, the man in charge of the borough, counted money in the office upstairs.
They walked in without knocking at the door. They never knocked in the places they owned.
Jason didn’t even look up.
“Shit guys, what took you so long?”
Wads of cash piled on the desk. His big-screen laptop sat on a chair, showcasing a dozen spreadsheets filled with numbers.
“Morning Jason,” said Lucian, “things are good, I see.”
Jason finished counting the money in his hands and put it in a bag, looked up and shrugged.
“What can I say? We’ve had it worse.”
The brothers smiled. Crow sat on a sofa next to the door. The office was barely decorated, Jason was a spartan kind of man. He only had what he needed. Nothing else. He never rambled or tip-toed around a problem.
“I got got the files you asked for.”
“Good,” Crow replied, “send them to us.”
“Already did. You’re doing an audit?”
“Any problem with that?” Crow spat.
Jason looked at him, raising his head slowly, “if you don’t trust me you can either tell it to my face or hire someone else.”
“Yeah, we’re doing an audit,” Lucian said.
“Good,” replied Jason, “maybe you’ll give me a raise after you see my numbers.”
The brothers looked at each other. Jason was loyal, and a hard worker. Yeah, they trusted him. Not that they would tell him. They were professionals. If he wasn’t happy he could leave.
“You need more money?” Crow asked.
“Don’t we all?”
Good answer. The man was smart.
“Oh yeah, you don’t,” he continued, it was more friendly teasing than reproach.
“We’ll see what we can do,” said Crow.
Jason poured all of the money in another bag, zipped it close and put it on his shoulder.
“I need to make a deposit before ten, don’t wanna get caught in the mid-morning rush. Anything else you need?”
“We’re expanding our operation,” Lucian said.
Jason just stood there, his face contorted, almost comically, more so for a man man big enough to break your neck with one hand.
“When?”
“Depends on the results of the audit. We were planning to do it within the next six months, but we might start sooner.”
“Wait. Something’s wrong with the books? Shit, that’s not good.”
“We need your expertise. See which families own Texas. We need to start buying people, letting others know we respect them but if they fuck with us, we’ll go medieval on their asses.”
Lucian did not answer Jason’s question. Employees don’t need to hear anything that doesn’t directly concern them.
“The organization is always strong,” their father used to say, “don’t let anyone think it isn’t. It’s a fucking monolith. Bigger than everyone, bigger than life. It’s perfect, like God. The moment someone thinks there’s a crack on it, they’ll start thinking they can do better, they’ll try to compete.”
“Just say the words,” Jason said, “you know I’m ready.”
Crow got up, ready to leave.
“Wait for confirmation,” he said.
This was going to be hard, but they had the manpower.
And enough money to buy anyone they wanted.
CHAPTER 36
LEXIE
By the time Lexie opened her email in the coffee shop, she had received fourteen emails, each of them containing more than twenty files.
Ten years’ worth of business operations.
She knew she was dealing with sensitive information. They laundered their money perfectly; she knew she had to be careful not to make the IRS turn its eyes on them.
They were owed money, that’s it. She’d make the books look as if the fuck up was a beginner’s mistake, easily fixable. They must have dealt with issues like that on an every-day basis. Nothing to worry about.
She ordered an espresso while downloading the files using her cell phone data. She didn’t know much about IT security, but some articles popped here and there on her Facebook timeline about how easy it was for hackers to get all they wanted from strangers in public networks.
Maybe she was just paranoid.
But I’m not taking any chances.
She cracked her knuckles and began arranging the information, Income and expenses by enterprise name, year, month, day. Then we dig deeper from there.
The generalities were easy, she was able to identify the same kind of problems she’d already found, a pattern of errors that stretched a long way back, through all the business units. What a nice way to call all those sex clubs and illegal gambling houses.
She was so good at this that she linked a spreadsheet to a new one where every change in the original was reflected with the entry name and all the identifiers for it. She had to set up a semi-automated workflow if she wanted to do this fast.
She worked for six hours before she remembered she had to eat. Damn. Every time she found a new piece of data she knew was wrongly accounted for, a brief rush of satisfaction ran through her veins.
It was almost three in the afternoon. She stretched her arms and got up to order something.
It might have been a lot of work, but it wasn’t hard at all. After the first few years, every operation just repeats itself without many changes, month after month, year after year. The numbers change, of course, but the method doesn’t.
She’d already worked on eight years. Just two more before she was done.
“Alexa,” the barista called, her order was ready.
She picked it up and went back to her computer, took a bite of the chicken panini she bought and kept on looking at the numbers on the screen.
Gosh, this food’s better than I thought. She smiled, this wasn’t bad at all for an office.
She opened the summary sheet where every change was being recorded. Her heart stopped, she almost spat her food. It took her a few seconds to be able to come down from the shock.
The cell read $27,189,016.42
Twenty seven freaking million dollars.
Things were much better than she thought.
CHAPTER 37
LUCIAN
Lucian rang the bell. This was the last stop of the evening. A restaurant on the edge of Brooklyn. Hip enough to bring the attention of both tourists and locals.
“Something’s up,” Kitchen, the manager, whispered to them, “the Kingsmen came, asking for fifty percent of the profit. They started selling coke and other shit in here. They said they’d kill me if I don’t comply.”
“The what?”
“The Kingsmen,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I thought the same thing.”
Lucian shook his head, “never heard of them.”
“Me neither, until the fuckers arrived with guns and bats and you know… that kind of stuff. They weren’t kidding around.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Fuck, man. What did you do?”
Kitchen shrugged.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Lucian.
“I wanted to deal with it myself—”
He looked sideways at the men’s room, “one of them is here, he sets up shop an hour before opening.”
Crow nodded and walked over to the bathroom.
“Tell me why the fuck do we have to learn this two weeks after the fact?”
“I told you! I made someone follow the guy, but I haven’t found the fucker who threatened me.”
“Did you tell him about the organization?”
“Of course I did!”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t give a rat’s ass about—”
A big, bald, Hispanic guy flew out of the bathroom, screaming in pain, breaking the door in his path.
He hit the ground with a thud, he turned around to see Lucian and Kitchen, his nose a red ruin. Crow walked out of the bathroo
m, the drug dealer raised his hands, muttering something that sounded like a plead.
Good thing this place is empty. We’d have people screaming in fear if it wasn’t.
Crow looked so calm you would’ve thought he was playing golf, thinking about what club to use next.
The guy looked up at him, then turned to Kitchen, spitting blood and teeth, then turned around to face his attacker.
“Please! No!”
Crow grabbed him by the collar and crashed his fist like a hammer right on his nose. The cracking sound like made Kitchen shudder.
“No, what?” Crow said, cocking his arm again, ready to destroy this poor guy’s face.
“Wait,” said Lucian, and met Crow’s blue eyes. They looked like the fire of a welding torch.
“I know you’re just doing your job,” Lucian said, his voice soft and calm, “but you messed up, my friend.”
“I’m so—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Crow interrupted him. The way he eyed him let him know who was in charge here.
“You need to answer a few questions. If you tell the truth, you might be able walk out of here in once piece.”
The guy thought about it for a second. He’s gonna tell us everything.
“Your name.”
“Conrad.”
“Fucking ugly name,” Lucian said, “you threatened my friend here?”
“No sir. I just sell—”
“Who the fuck are the Kingsmen, anyway?”
He shook his head, not wanting to say anything, but his mouth betrayed him.
“We’re new… we—”
“Have you heard of the Soldiers of Satan?” Lucian asked, taking out his phone and tapping on the screen.
He looked at Lucian with almost pleading eyes. The man began to weep.
“Answer the question,” Crow said in his cold, detached voice.
He nodded.
“This is their territory, you know that?”
“I… I…”
“Mad Dog Markus, the president, is a close friend of ours. He won’t be pleased.”
“Lloyd Brennan,” the guy blurted.
“What?”
“That’s our leader, the head of the—”
“Fucking hell,” Lucian said, “his name is Lloyd? Shit. This is worse than I thought.”
Kitchen snorted, holding back laughter. Crow’s look was enough to quiet him.
“I thought you’d be harder to crack,” Crow said, taking his wallet and ID.
“I… I…”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Lucian said, “the Soldiers might pay your bosses a visit. I recommend going away for a while, maybe a year or two, let things cool off. Unless you want to go away for good.”
“Yes, sir.”
Crow let him go. He ran away faster than Usain Bolt on a bout of diarrhea.
“That was easy.”
“Dude!” Kitchen said, “they’re gonna kill me!”
“Relax,” Lucian replied, “Butcher is coming here, I’m sure the Soldiers will deal with this problem by tomorrow morning, or the following day.”
“But man, without you here—”
“He said relax,” Crow said.
Kitchen went stiff, then nodded.
“Are we done here?” Crow said.
Lucian looked around, trying to remember if there was anything else he needed to do before leaving. Nothing comes to mind.
“Sure, all right.”
Business was good, as usual. Some hiccups here and there —like this— but nothing they couldn’t handle.
Now it was time to go back to their princess. He felt butterflies in his stomach the moment she came into his mind.
He laughed. I’m going soft, I guess.
If someone was going to do that to him, it was her.
And he didn’t care.
He didn’t care at all.
CHAPTER 38
LEXIE
She couldn’t wait to tell them. But how? Would she act cool, or just spew it out?
How boring! I need to do something special. Wait for them to see the numbers, I’ll act as if it was nothing. Maybe record their reactions.
She surprised herself. Holy crap, that would be awesome!
She checked the time. Two hours before they arrive.
She did a quick search online. How to connect my laptop to the TV. She tried the instructions on the first result, it was super easy.
She took the cable from the Blu-Ray player and connected it to her computer. That’s apparently it.
She checked her phone, she had all the time in the world, but she started to get nervous. This was big news. Twenty seven million.
She felt butterflies in her stomach. She checked and re-checked the numbers. It was all there.
They’d need to find a lawyer to help them deal with the legal hoops but everything seemed fairly simple.
“They’re going to go crazy.”
It was the least she could do. They saved her, showed her a better world, made her value herself. Gave her a chance to do something she was good at. That was worth much more than anything she could find in their books.
They changed her life.
And the sex. Damn, I’m ruined for other men.
She bit her lip, just thinking about it.
Everything was ready. The big TV showed the spreadsheets. She thought about doing a presentation but that would be so cheesy she blushed. You’re still a nerd.
That she was. A proud one, even.
“Can’t wait!” she blurted out.
She went over to the TV stand and hid her cell phone amidst all the electronics, facing the sofa, ready to record their reactions.
It was perfect. The phone was impossible to see, the framing was perfect… anticipation built inside of her like a forest fire. Slow at first but uncontrollable.
She needed to do something, anything, to keep herself busy. Should she make a presentation?
Oh, screw it. I still got time.
She was so giddy she was already thinking about what she was going to say. She opened PowerPoint when someone knocked on the door. Three hard thuds.
What?
You needed a special key for the elevator to come up here. Did they lose their apartment key? Oh, crap, did they arrive early?
Her stomach churned. Suddenly, she wasn’t ready to tell them the news.
Whatever, you got this.
They knocked again.
She sprang from the sofa, quickly went over to where she hid her phone and tapped on the recording button.
Act cool. This is just another afternoon. Do not jump in excitement or anything. Okay, breathe. She took a deep breath and relaxed as much as she could.
She was a professional. She had to act like it.
“I’m coming!” She said.
“Okay,” they replied.
She smiled and arrived at the door but suddenly stopped. Something did not feel right. It was too early for them to arrive.
That voice…
“Lucian?” she asked, her voice coming out weaker than she wanted, “Crow? Are you there?”
“Who is this?” said someone with a high pitched voice, “Where’s the guys?”
Shit. She recognized him.
“It’s Oscar,” he continued, “I was in town and…”
She opened the door, the security lock still in place.
Oscar stood there, wearing dockers and a blue polo, two big men behind him, a radio in their ears, one of them was Theodore, the man she met outside the Tea House club. He didn’t seem to recognize her.
“You?” Oscar said, his face turning from a greeting smile to a why-the-fuck-are-you-here expression.
She smiled. Suddenly, she didn’t like the man. He worked for the boys but he looked… heartless.
“Hi, Oscar,” she said, “what’s up?”
It took him half a second to compose himself, his eyes still trying to understand what was going on.
“What’s your name again, darling?”
>
“Alexa.”
“Alexa, right. Are the guys home? I need to talk to them.”
“No, they haven’t arrived yet.”
“Oh,” he said, still looking at her, but she didn’t say anything else.
“Will they be home soon?”
“In about an hour.”
“That’s great, that’s great,” he nodded, his black eyes not reflecting anything. The bodyguards didn’t move.
“Maybe you could come back later—”
“I’ll wait for them inside, I guess…”
“What?”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
Yes, she minded. She minded a lot. But why? She was just being paranoid. The man looked like a creep, and he yelled at her and treated her badly. He wasn’t a gentleman at all. Prone to violence. That was her idea of him. But it was their partner. She couldn’t just say no to this, could she?
She’d be brave, she’d tell him to wait downstairs until they arrived.
Oscar stepped forward.
“I kind of need to use the bathroom, too…”
Shit. Fuck. She wasn’t very good at saying no. Shake it off, you dork, he’s their partner, don’t be an ass to him.
She opened the door and Oscar stepped in.
“Good place, good place,” he said, his annoying voice sounding fakely amicable.
She smiled.
He walked over to the sofa, the bodyguards by his side.
“Earl, please, bring me a soda.”
One of his men, the one with a pony-tail, went to the fridge and picked up a can.
“You want one?” Oscar said to Lexie.
“No,” she said, “the bathroom’s over—”
“Oh, that can wait,” Oscar said, “what do you have here? Making a presentation?”
Every hair in her body bristled. Suddenly, she didn’t want to show him what she found. Lucky her the spreadsheets and all the data weren’t up on the screen.
“Just playing around with my new computer.”
“Oh, that’s nice… that’s nice.”
Earl brought him the can of soda and the cracking noise of Oscar opening it almost made her tremble.
Please, guys, just get home.
“So, are you going to tell me?”
She shivered.
“Tell you what?”
“What you’re doing here.”