Boss: Romantic Thriller

by Sienna Mynx

  “Burn it to the ground,” Tarek said.

  Vladimir’s son Yegor whispered in his ear. The old man took another hit from his oxygen mask and nodded. He said something very low in Russian. His cold cataract eyes returned to Tarek. “And the deal you intend to make with the government?”

  “I have enough on my father to make it appetizing. Trust me. Your name will be off the table. To save face after all of this, the feds will take the deal.”

  Vladimir stared at him for a long moment before giving a slow nod of acceptance. Tarek let go a deep breath. He stood to shake Kovalevsky’s hand.

  “Not so fast,” Vladimir said.

  Tarek paused.

  “What about the black woman. Her name Yegor?”

  “Kassandra Turner,” Yegor answered.

  “Yes. Kassandra Turner. I see her on the news. She is a protected witness. Care to tell me what she is a witness too?”

  “Nothing. She knows nothing about you.”

  “She’s the one he kidnapped,” Yegor answered.

  “She’s testifying against me not you,” Tarek said.

  “Did you not bring her to Alaska. Was she not there with that messy affair with LuxeOil?” Vladimir asked.

  “She saw nothing father,” Yegor said. “Tarek ended his affair with her two months ago when I told him who he really was. He knew he had to keep her away from our business.”

  “She was working for an environmental company trying to take down our off shore drilling. She never understood the nature of our business.” Tarek said.

  “Doesn’t sound like it’s over between you two.” Kovalevsky said.

  “It’s not,” Tarek informed them both. Yegor eyes stretched with surprise.

  “Aaah...” Kovalevsky’s gaze swept Tarek. “Why go through so much trouble for her?”

  “She’s out of this,” Tarek said. “She’s my woman.”

  “Are you sure?” Kovalevsky asked, “Sounds to me that she belongs to the government.”

  “She’s mine.” Tarek said. “It all points to me. Nothing touches you.”

  “Still, I think we keep an eye on her, for you while you go to prison. Just to be sure she's a good girl. And to be sure you're a good boy.”

  “She’s under federal protection. She'll disappear,” Tarek said.

  Vladimir smiled. His dentures gleamed. “No one disappears from me.”

  51.

  Two days later –

  Tarek waited in his car. He wasn’t expected to return from El Paso for another day. He came back earlier. He came back for his brother. Several cars went through the guard gate to the luxury apartment home building. However, the one he expected did not arrive. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his brother wasn’t staying here any longer.

  Tarek released a frustrated sigh. He wanted to talk to Kassidy. Hear her voice. Argue with her. It was harder than he anticipated when he set his plan into motion. She was out of his reach. His gaze shifted and his brothers Maserati drove up to the gate. Tarek smiled.

  Some people never changed.

  He got out of the car and dashed across the street. He used his brother’s birth date to open the gate. He kept his head down as he passed the security cameras. His cap was pulled down low to his head. He darted over to the stairs instead of the elevator and took them up.

  When he finally arrived on his brother’s hall he saw him struggling with the key and bags in his hands.

  “Henry?” Tarek said.

  Henry froze. He opened his door and rushed inside. Tarek was faster. Before Henry could close it he knocked it all the way open. Henry ran into his living room area. Tarek closed the door and stepped on his brother’s grocery. Egg’s, bread, something in a carton squished under his feet. And Henry being the coward he was turned with a gun. “Get the fuck out. Now!”

  Tarek stared at him and the gun. He smirked. He stepped into his brother’s living room.

  “I’m serious Tarek. I’ll shoot. I won’t put up with your shit anymore. Get out!”

  “Dale and I have been fighting since the day I came into this family. When I was four Dale pushed me down the stairs. I bit through my tongue. Had to have stitches in my mouth.”

  “Get out!” Henry said.

  “But you little brother. You never had the balls that Dale had. You just always found yourself caught in the middle of our war.”

  “Not anymore. Both of you are going to jail. I’m the one that’ll be left here to run the company. To clean up your mess.”

  Tarek smiled. “My mess? Or the mess you created.”

  Henry frowned.

  “At first I thought, why would Cash turn on me. And then I figured it out. Dale was lining Cash pockets. Everyone has a price. But what didn’t make sense was why Daniel, the goody two shoes moral crusader, would try to kill Kassidy. I mean, Dale would dispose of Daniel once he sent Cash after us. He wants that USB destroyed. Because he thought it had incriminating evidence against him. Daniel knew the truth. That USB had incriminating evidence against me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about the biggest play between Dale and I. The one you made. You found out Daniel and Kassidy were hacking our servers. You’re our technology guru. The one that deals with our cyber security. And somehow you set this up, not to get Dale. Though I’m sure he was part of your plan. But to get me. Am I close?”

  “Stay right there!” Henry said with the gun trained on him. “I’ll shoot. I swear to God.”

  “Am I right?” Tarek asked.

  Henry smiled. “Very good. You’re right. I put up with your shit and abuse for years. Dale pounding on me, and you pounding on me. Dad, never seeing me. I’m just the whipping boy. Not anymore. Six weeks ago I found access that EPU was using to dig in our company. I traced it to Daniel Messina. He denied it. So I started my own digging. Found out how he had a spurned lover, named Carmen. For money, and a shoulder to cry on she gave me all of Daniels secrets. Including how his little brother died and what his parents did to cover his crimes. I guess everyone has secrets. I told Daniel I was going to have the prosecutor reopen the case into little Timmy’s death in his swimming pool. I would l flood the internet with the story and ruin him, just on speculation. He freaked. He gave me Kassidy and told me about the account numbers with the Russians. The rest was easy.”

  Tarek nodded. “Well done.”

  “Not quite. You’re still here. Cutting deals. You need to go prison with Dale and father. And I’m not done with you yet.”

  Tarek smiled.

  “Why are you smiling? You think I won’t shoot. The feds won’t arrest me. They all know you’re the real villain. I’ll tell them you attacked me and it was self-defense.”

  “Go ahead. Pull the trigger. Show me you’re a man Henry. Do it.”

  Henry held the gun with both hands. He strained. Tarek could see him struggling. The weakness was still there.

  “Not so easy to kill a man, is it?” Tarek asked.

  “Get out!” Henry lowered the gun.

  “You made a big mistake coming after me Henry. And I will be able to pull that trigger.”

  “You are going to jail Tarek. You can’t touch me.”

  “Not yet. But a year from now, maybe two years, when you’re comfortable, and thinking you’ve won. A person’s going to come and pay you a visit. When he puts you on your knees and puts the gun to the back of your head. Think of me. Only me Henry. It’s my finally gift to you little brother.”

  “Get out!” Henry shouted and tears welled in his eyes. “You fucking monster. Dale was right about you. You are a fucking monster.”

  Tarek winked and turned and left.

  52.

  One Year Later –

  Tarek didn’t move. He didn’t speak. The attorneys did so for him. After a year of legal wrangling, this is what his life came to. He glanced over to the table where his father sat surrounded by his team of lawyers. The old man refused to look him in the eye. He was no longer
confined to a wheel chair. He was the great Alek Marshall again. And he loathed Tarek. In fact, since Dale’s death, Alek Marshall cut off all communication with Tarek. The police never caught the person or persons responsible, but everyone knew, including the feds that Dale’s car crash and the subsequent explosion was no accident.

  What kind of son puts a hit out on his own brother? That is what his father yelled into the phone when he called him in the middle of the night to deliver the news. I know it was you. I know it! I will make you pay for this. Do you hear me? Do you hear me? What kind of son turns on the only family he has ever known? Answer me!

  His only reply was: the son you raised, and I’m not done. All of your sons lives belong to me now.

  “You are no longer a son of mine!” Alek Marshall shot back.

  “I never was.”

  Reese Johnson fate wasn’t as dramatic. She cut a deal with the prosecutors and got five years for her attempted murder charge. Henry had absconded. But Tarek had no doubt he’d eventually find his brother. Now it was time for Tarek and his father to face the law. The prosecutor would call Tarek to the stand to give his testimony. And under his plea agreement he’d be ushered off to a four-year sentence in a minimum security federal prison. No early release. He’d have to serve every single day of his time. That was the price he’d pay. The federal prosecutor stood when the attorney for Alek Marshall rested.

  “Your honor I’d like to call our witness Ms. Kassandra Turner.”

  Tarek’s gaze slowly lifted from the polished dark wood surface of the table. The feds guarded her like the jewel she was. He'd lost contact with her soon after he set his plan in motion. His heart raced, his palms began to sweat as he anxiously waited. The door opened to the left side of the courtroom. Kassidy entered. She looked the same. Except her hair that was once short and tapered to her face, was longer and in a curly style and it reached to her neck. She wore a blue dress under a dark blue long sweater that covered her curves. When she looked up to the courtroom, her gaze was immediately drawn to him. And he saw everything he wanted to hear her say in her eyes.

  “Ms. Turner, please take a seat,” the judge said.

  She blinked out of her trance. “Yes, Your Honor,” she mumbled. She stepped into the booth and was sworn in as a witness by the bailiff. She sat without removing her coat. Her eyes never returned to him. Instead she focused on the prosecutor. She would play the role to the very end.

  “State your name.”

  “Ah, I’m Kassandra Grace Turner,” she said.

  “And how do you know the defendant?” the prosecutor asked. “Mr. Alek Marshall.”

  At first she looked at the elder Marshall. Then to his surprise her gaze slipped over to him. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Don't do it Kassidy. We've come too far. Don't look at me. Stay focused. I miss you too baby. I miss you. She turned her gaze away. Their time together was so brief, he was an idiot to think she felt any of the things he felt. But he knew she did. And she had proven it by never veering off script in the past year.

  “Ms. Turner? How do you know the defendant Mr. Alek Marshall?”

  She leaned in to the microphone and answered. “He was my boss.”

  53.

  Three years later –

  “Inmate!”

  Tarek lifted his gaze from his book. He sat up on his bed. The doors to their cells were open all day except for the nighttime lockdown. They had the freedom to come and go around the penitentiary. No hardened criminals amongst them. Not for white-collar crimes. His biggest worry in prison now was boredom. Since he didn’t enjoy television, he took to reading to pass his time.

  “Come with me,” the guard said.

  To be summoned by a guard meant something of importance. Maybe he had a visitor. Maybe the warden wanted to speak with him. He no longer had a family or an identity. His father was in prison, the woman he called his mother had severed all ties. And dear poor Henry’s body had washed up on the shores of Jamaica with a single bullet to the back of his head. The press had labeled Tarek the Judas who turned against the prominent Marshalls. Like a reality show Tarek and Alek Marshall legal battle of the patent to the Marshall fortune played out. And with the secret backing of Pakhan Vladimir he defeated his father and bankrupted the Marshalls. People respected and hated him for it. And the world went on.

  Tarek followed the corrections officer without speaking. Prison was good for one thing. It kept him fit. There was not an ounce of fat on his body now. He was lean, he was focused, and he was ready for the year to pass to reclaim his life. He walked with his corrections officer out of his wing and through several doors. They headed to the back of the prison where the kitchens were. Three other guards waited. Tarek was led past the cooking area to a steal door like that of a meat locker. The guard gave him a smirk and pulled the door open.

  Inside the steel refrigerator Yegor was seated at a table with two other men that were of his same age. They all stared at Tarek as he walked in. These men weren't alone. Tarek only realized it when the door closed. There was a chair waiting for him.

  “Do you know what today is Tarek?” Yegor asked.

  He glanced to the men and then back to Yegor. “Thieves in law,” he said.

  Yegor smiled. “That is right. And after today you will join the Vory. No longer as Tarek Marshall, you will take your father’s name. We will only address you as Viktor Bychkov. You are a criminal—you have corruption in your veins. You are a thief—you have stolen from people to satisfy your greed. You are a murderer—you placed the order of death on our brother Dale and Henry Marshall with my father’s blessing. You are a victor—you have crippled Alek Marshall and reclaimed your birthright. And that story will be told. You will stand by the mark and bars. You will follow the rules of the Vory. You will become a thief in law.”

  “I’m ready.” Tarek unbuttoned his shirt. He tossed it to the floor. He then loosened the strings to his pants and dropped them as well. He sat down before the men on the table. The man in the corner turned on the tattoo needle and brought his equipment over.

  Yegor smiled. “Welcome to the brotherhood.”

  54.

  Eight months later –

  Chicago, Illinois

  “Are you going back upstairs to your room or to the event center?” Charmaine asked.

  Kassidy checked her watch. It was close to four. She could catch the last meeting and still have time for a quick shower before they left for dinner. “I’m going to go hear the speaker. It’s just next door. I’ll call you from the room when I get back.”

  “Okay. Take notes, Clarissa. I’m counting on you!” Charmaine winked.

  Kassidy smiled. Her name was Clarissa Wilson. She lived in a small town called Danbury, Illinois, and she sold Mary-Kay part-time as she worked as a beautician full-time. The big convention in Chicago was the first trip she’d made out of Danbury since she moved there. The first time she’d even allowed herself a vacation. Kassidy walked out of the spinning doors of the hotel and arrived on the bustling sidewalk in the heart of downtown Chicago. She smiled to herself. The city was vibrant and alive with honking horns, cursing motorists, and pedestrians walking briskly past her. The little town of Danbury had a population of about 13,000 and only three percent of that population were people of color. Anonymity for her had come at a big price. She lost her family and she lost contact with the world. She was nobody. Just a beautician who started selling cosmetics to her clients, and found she was really good at it. Charmaine was her regional consultant and had already awarded her with many perks since her sales spiked over the holidays. This trip was one of them.

  And after all these years the city of Chicago held the same meaning to her as it did before her childhood scars caused her life to fall apart. Before Daniel betrayed her to cover his childhood secrets. And before her boss kidnapped, tortured and made her fall in love with him. A love that felt empty and abandoned since she hadn't spoken or seen him in over four years.

  Kassidy hitched her purse up
her arm and headed in the direction of the event center. In the winter she heard the city was frigid with high-winds whipping around the tall skyscraper buildings. But in the summer, like today, it was hot with humidity.

  “Hey lady! Looking for the daily news? Got it right heah for you! Ah huh, got it right heah!” A man jumped out in front of her. She smiled politely and tried to side step him. “Awe, c’mon beautiful. Help a brother out. It’s only two bucks. I haven’t eaten.”

  Apparently the man was peddling for the vendor. Kassidy tucked her hair behind her ear. She had put in extensions and it was longer now, reaching the middle of her back from a center part.

  “Here you go, thank you,” she said and accepted the paper. The man grinned and disappeared back up the sidewalk. She started walking again. As she rounded the corner and headed for the event center, with the paper in her hand and her gift bag from the convention center in the other, she felt awkward and over-burdened. She decided to toss the paper when the headline caught her attention.

  Billionaire Tarek Marshall Free!

  Kassidy stopped on the sidewalk. Several people bumped into her. “Ah, sorry, excuse me,” she said and ducked over to the right near the building. She held up the article. Today was the day Tarek was released from prison. The article said he would have a six-month probationary period. It went on to say that he was currently in a legal war with his surviving brothers over his control and demise of the Marshall fortune. His father Alek Marshall had died of a heart attack in prison six months ago. His brothers Dale and Henry Marshall were dead. The article said this was the last gasp of the surviving Marshalls’ to stop Judas. That’s what the papers called him now. Judas. They even said his name was legally changed to Viktor Bychkov. The world Tarek came from had crumbled and burned to the ground. She stared at the man seen walking out of the prison. He didn’t look weathered or downtrodden. He looked stronger, hardened. He didn’t duck his head in shame or hide from the cameraman. He looked the photographers directly in the eye.

  “No. I can’t. Oh, God I can’t do this,” Kassidy said as anxiety gripped her and the urge to run became so strong she turned and fled to her hotel. She didn’t stop running until she reached her room. And inside Kassidy sat and read the newspaper twice more.