by Willa Thorne
“Tell me what you know,” I prompted as I sat adjacent from him.
“I know that Wei wants you in his pocket, just as he had your father eating out of the palm of his hand.” Ian was not grinning. “He knows how to bribe and blackmail the right people in exchange for their silence.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked inquisitively. There was no challenge in my tone. It was an honest inquiry; I needed a better understanding of what I was going up against.
“He tried to put me in his pocket once.” The expression on Ian’s face was solemn and masked with stone. “That was strike one. He had no fucking clue who he was dealing with.”
I wondered what Wei did to infuriate Ian. I couldn’t help but question what transpired between Ian and Wei, or how Ian knew him previously.
“You remember the news story about the lass who was found in the Hudson River a few years back?”
“Yes, I think I recall the news story.” I vaguely remembered.
“I knew her.” Ian’s lip curled into the faintest trace of a snarl.
The man sitting in front of me said nothing as he silently removed his shoes from my desk. It was evident, judging by the expression on his face, that he was finished discussing his own personal story. There was a fire in his eyes that I had never seen before. That’s when it became perfectly clear: Ian wasn’t looking to make another dollar off my dilemma. His business with Wei was personal.
****
The following morning sped along at a rapid pace. I accomplished almost nothing, as my mind was flooded with questions about Wei and what the bloody hell he could possibly want. My brief conversation with Ian gave me some insight, but still left me profoundly stressed and puzzled. Promptly at the noon hour, Mr. Wei was shown to my office. There was a dark glint in his almond eyes. His smile towards Elizabeth was professional and polite, but I saw through it. As I’ve stated before, I know all about men like Jian Wei.
Elizabeth showed him into my office, and he was followed by two large blokes in business suits, as well a smaller, wiry fellow with thick spectacles and a balding head. This man held a briefcase, and walked beside Wei, seemingly ready to shit his pants. That’s always a good sign.
Without speaking a word, the goons opened every door in my office. The bathroom and closet were examined. The even did a quick search of my office furniture, including under my desk. I didn’t need to ask what they were looking for. Wei wanted to ensure that I hadn’t implemented any other bugging devices or had uninvited guests lurking in the corners.
“Have a seat,” I offered in my business-like mask that is always reserved for important clients and colleagues. “Might I offer you tea or coffee?”
“That will not be necessary,” Mr. Wei answered. He spoke perfect English, and smoothed his impeccable red silk tie. I gestured for him to have a seat at the polished, round cherry wood table some feet away from my desk. He nodded in agreement and we sat in unison, facing one another on opposite sides of the table. The wiry fellow with him continued to appear nervous and I could only assume the man owed Wei a favor of some sort. He didn’t seem to fit in with the mix of company Mr. Wei kept with him.
“I’m going to get to the point of my visit, Mr. Woodward.” Wei spoke bluntly. “Your father and I have known each other for many, many years. In those many years, he has accumulated much debt.”
He snapped his fingers and the nervous fellow beside him unlocked the briefcase and handed me a manilla envelope. Without a word, I opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of signed documents and receipts.
I leafed through the documents. My father’s signature was scrawled on each document, along with the date of the agreement. I reminded myself to breathe as I looked through each unpaid debt. The amount owed toward Mr. Wei was obscene, and all from favors and horrendously accrued interest.
“I consider myself to be a patient man, Mr. Woodward, but when your father suddenly died without paying the debt, I was left with no choice.” Mr. Wei spoke calmly but there was underlying threat in his voice. “It is now under public record that you are the legal heir to your father’s estates, and company.”
A whirlwind of thoughts whipped through my mind, although I had very little time to process each of them as I fixated on the impending dread that Mr. Wei was about to dish out.
“I’m a very powerful man, Mr. Woodward, as you are surely aware. I had your own father in my pocket, and now, I have you-”
“What do you want?” I demanded in a low tone. “I am certain you are also aware that I am not so easily pocketed.” My dark brow piqued as I gave him a direct stare.
Wei only chuckled. “I want my money, of course. Every last penny that your father owed me.”
“After investigating your father’s business agenda and estates, I understand that your father’s business was a pyramid scheme. You do understand what I am meaning, yes?”
“Of course I am aware of what you mean. I’m not a bloody idiot.” The knot in my jaw had returned and my knuckles were white from clutching the arm of the chair as I struggled to maintain my composure. It had become painfully obvious in the last few weeks that my father did not have any actual money, which is clearly why he was so hard pressed to marry me to that banking heiress, Aislinn Meadows. My father was very good at flashing the only hand he had to play- our family’s name. He had his people shuffle money around constantly to make the company appear more financially stable than it actually was. It was all smoke in mirrors.
“Even if you liquidate the estates and your father’s company to pay these debts, you will still be very short. This displeases me.”
I knew where this was heading, and I was bracing myself.
“You, on the other hand, are doing quite well for yourself. You are very different from your father- stronger, I think. You just opened a new hotel and casino in Las Vegas, yes?”
I nodded. I typically referred to my latest expansion as my hotel, despite the fact that it also contained a spa, nightclub and casino. Let’s not get technical, though.
“Stop fucking around and tell me what you want, Mr. Wei.”
“I want my money,” he answered curtly. “Every last penny. I have waited long enough. If you sell your hotel in Las Vegas that will pay off a good portion of what is owed to me. I think you will agree.”
My blood boiled over. “I will see what I can do.”
“That answer is not good enough to satisfy me. You have three months. If I do not have the money by this date within three months from now, I will have to become more assertive.”
“You expect me to sell my Las Vegas hotel and casino within three months and send you the money? Are you cracked?”
Wei only chuckled. “That is not all.”
“Of course it’s not,” my tone was dry and absent of any patience.
He gestured again toward the scrawny lad beside him, and the man jumped to open the briefcase. He produced another manilla envelope and handed it to me. With an exasperated sigh, I retrieved it and opened the envelope.
I pulled out two glossy photos, and nearly died inside. The pulse hammered within me, at a sudden, rapid pace. Jillian.
“She is very pretty.” Wei stated. My weakness was apparent as I could not control the rigid trembling in my hands. I looked at the glossy, colored photos. One photo was a closeup of Jillian on a street corner outside a bridal boutique. She was walking with her friend, Elyse. They were smiling and ignorant of the spy who had been photographing them.
“Sources tell me she was shopping for a wedding dress this morning. I must congratulate you.”
I did not speak. If I flinched, I might lose my temper, and I could not take all of these men at once.
Wei pulled out his cell phone and smiled, then looked at me. “She’s on East Sixth Street currently. Now, if you cooperate, she will make it to the wedding day and you can both live happily ever after. Does that sound agreeable to you? Please don’t force me to make a phone call that will turn things sour.”
Goddamn. I plucked one weed, and twenty grew back in its place.
I could only nod my head. I was blinded with thoughts, imagining an unknown psychopath following my Jilly Bean up and down the streets of Manhattan while she planned our wedding. I clenched a fist and rested it against my lips in deep thought. I tried to contain the trembling within my hands.
“Stop dancing in circles and be clear with me. What will you have me do?” I asked directly.
“I understand you purchased a local animal shelter for your fiance not too long ago. I want it.”
This threw me. “Did I hear you correctly? What the hell do you want with an animal shelter?”
Wei chuckled. “I do not want the shelter itself. It is a prime location for the business I am expanding. I already have arranged for workers to come over and begin-”
I sneered. “You understand that this shelter means more to my fiancee-”
“Yes, and it will be meaningless when she is dead, do you not agree?”
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to find an exploit out of this entire scheme. My stomach churned from nerves; the pulse in my head was now unbearable.
“Let me get this straight. You want my hotel in Las Vegas, as well as a small brick building in Brooklyn that holds stray dogs and cats?” None of this was adding up.
“Oh, it won’t hold stray dogs and cats for long. I’ll have it taken care of. You won’t need to worry about clean up. I just want the location.” Wei spoke to me as though this reasoning would put me at ease. Even a village idiot would be able to understand what would happen to those animals in the shelter. He’d do a quick clean up before the shelter was turned into a front for some criminal business.
None of this compared to losing Jillian permanently, and it would take a solid lie to her face. She loves that shelter. It has been a part of her since she was a kid. I would never be able to look her in the eye if I lied about what actually happened to all those animals, or the people she has come to admire. A tightness built up within my throat.
“Give me some time to think about this. That’s all I ask,” I answered. I needed time to sort all of this out, and figure out a solution. After I liquidate my father’s estates and the company, I will be left with very little money. Selling the hotel and handing those funds over to Wei will dip severely into my pocket. I wasn’t so sure I would be able to afford a new location for Jillian’s shelter so soon.
“Two weeks is more than fair. But, I will warn you.” Wei waved his finger in my direction. “If word about this meeting leaves this office, I will take action. I’m certain you know what will happen, yes? Do we have an understanding?”
I only nodded, and held out my hand for a proper handshake. Our hands met in a professional handshake, and then Wei was shown to the door, followed by his trolls. The scrawny lad nodded to me in a curt and nervous movement as he skittered past me and followed the Chinese businessman out of the door.
Ten minutes passed, and the men were long gone. Now alone, and lost in my thoughts, I felt myself head toward a downward spiral. A black abyss was consuming me, suffocating me in the same way it did when my father made those threats about Jillian. As I gathered my work to take home, I thought of my beautiful fiancee. I considered the great lengths I went through to keep her safe and protected, and a fit of rage suddenly engulfed me. I hadn’t felt it in a long time, but I needed to break something. I realized my breathing had been hitched and I exhaled deeply. On quieu, my mobile chimed with a text message.
Jillian: I’ll be home a little bit late tonight. Maybe 7? Someone dumped a box of kittens in the alley. Who does that? :(
Fucking hell.
I was in the process of typing an answer back to her, when I felt a sudden movement descend from the ceiling of my office. I nearly dropped my phone, startled.
Ian landed on his feet, and brushed himself off. I looked up, and noted that he slipped in through the ceiling vent in my office.
He cracked his neck, then his knuckles as he straightened. “So, that went well, don’t you think?”
Christ. “Your presence jeopardizes everything. Nobody is supposed to know about this. How the fuck did you get into the vent system?”
Ian waved his hand dismissively. “Moot point. And so we’re clear- he said the discussion was not to leave this office, and it didn’t.” The man simply grinned.
I didn’t have time to be aggravated. I only grabbed my briefcase from the surface of my desk. My mind was buzzing with thoughts, and I had forgotten about the actual business meeting I had arranged through text messaging at O’Rourke’s days earlier.
“Care to explain why you were creeping in my vent system in the first place?”
“For Wei of course.”
“What do you want with him?” I asked this, despite our discussion the day before. He was still mysterious about his agenda, although I had an assumption of what his plans contained for Wei.
“You let me worry about that. My business is my own.”
“I can say the same as well.”
“I don’t think you can afford to say that when your fiancee is at stake.” Ian was very serious, and I could not argue.
“I’m not going to have much money to pay you when this is all over,” I stated, gripping the handle of my briefcase fiercely.
“Let me worry about Wei. He owes me.” Ian winked. My theory was proven correct: Ian’s business with Wei was quite personal. Still...
“You don’t work for free.”
“This is my own personal business, love. And I’ve grown on you, admit it.” He gave me another cheeky grin.
My lip twitched.
“Just for that, I’ll throw in a little sweetener.” His blue eyes glinted. “No hidden agenda. I swear on my gran’s grave.” He held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I’m just an honest man looking to help.”
“You’re not honest.” I added bluntly. “But you are discreet and efficient.”
I was hesitant. I promised myself I would never hire a man to end a life. However, I weighed my options. Jillian’s life was at stake if anyone else knew about Wei’s proposal. Ian seemed to conveniently have a vendetta of his own. With some hesitation, I acquiesced, only because he was efficient in his previous work under my employment, and because he is good friends with my cousin, Jackson.
“What is the sweetener?”
“Have a seat and we’ll discuss. It will only take a few minutes.” He smoothed his hair from his eyes and perched his feet on my desk as he waited for me to take a seat.
This better be good. My mind was a blurred mess of thoughts and emotions. I couldn’t believe I was resorting to this, but I had no choice. The words Ian spoke to me the day earlier, and the colored photos Wei showed me bounced around in my mind.
10. Jillian Pryor
It was another crisp evening and once again, I had the penthouse to myself. I sat curled up with a cotton throw and Gemma was at my feet while I researched wedding cake designs online. The entertainment room was dimly lit and I felt cozy in my NYU sweatshirt. Sitcom reruns played on the flat screen, and served as background noise as I bookmarked several designs I liked.
As the sitcom transitioned to commercial break, my dog’s ears perked and she sat up in an alert state as she typically did when Mason arrived home. The elevator chimed as the doors slid open into the foyer. I sat up and set my laptop aside, expecting to see my hardworking CEO appear in the entertainment room at any second, with his briefcase in hand. Instead, the faint clacking of heels on marble greeted my ears from the foyer. Piper doesn’t wear heels, so that means…
Shit.
I sat up straighter and set the cotton blanket aside as Gemma let out a sharp bark and disappeared from the room to go investigate. I stood, and then realized I was still wearing my ugly NYU sweatshirt and yoga pants. I suppose it’s better than frumpy pink plaid pajama bottoms she found me in last time, but still…
“Hello?” I heard Zara’s eloquent and sophisticated voice call as she
neared the entertainment room. For a fleeting second, I had the idea to pretend nobody was home. I could dive behind the sofa and hide…
No way. I fought the cowardly notion. A visit from Zara could not possibly be a positive one, but I’m not hiding in my own home. I’m marrying her brother; I can’t hide from her every time.
I took a deep breath and attempted to take on a collected demeanor as I took a few steps to greet her and show my face, but Zara suddenly appeared in the archway to the entertainment room.
She was a living, breathing contrast to everything I am. She stood there in five inch Gucci heels and a form fitting taupe sweater dress. Chunky glass beads in the color of burnt sienna draped from her neck, and paired with her perfect red lips, she looked like she just stepped off a trendy photo shoot. The sight of her made me realize how drab I suddenly felt in my NYU sweatshirt and yoga pants. I tried to hide how insecure her flawless appearance made me feel. I braced myself for what I knew was coming: a scrutinous gaze and a subtle jab at my appearance or social status, possibly both.
Zara looked healthier now and every bit as gorgeous as she appeared the first evening I met her, when she paid me an unwelcome visit at her brother’s apartment on West 87th Street. I was expecting nothing less again this evening.
“Is Mason home?” She asked, glancing around. She hardly looked at me.
“Hello, Zara. No, Mason said he had some work to finish at the office and will be home later this evening.” I was trying to remain polite and civil, but I was expecting something snide to pop out of her mouth at any moment.
“Oh, alright.” She responded, and slowly turned to leave.
Okay…
I noticed the flicker of a frown on her lips as she left the archway. The tension between us was awkward and uncomfortable. Zara has hardly said two words to me since that evening on West 87th Street. I assumed Mason threatened her while I wasn’t around, but the silence and tension was obnoxious.