The Choice

by Stella Gray

  They wouldn’t find anything in her desk or my office, and I didn’t think they’d look that hard. What they wanted was my father—the person in charge. The rest of this was a charade. Everything they needed was already in their hands.

  I headed back to my office, figuring it would be best to stay out of the way. As I walked down the corridor I could see, through office doors flung wide open, executives who were rifling through the contents of their filing cabinets or screaming into their phones.

  “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born,” I heard one agent hiss into his cellphone as he shoveled papers into his shredder.

  “You whore,” another was shouting at someone he had on speakerphone. “If I find out you’re responsible, you can consider your career a dumpster fire!”

  Part of me wanted to stop and bash their faces in, or at least drag them to the nearest federal agent and offer them up for handcuffing, but I kept going, taking solace in the knowledge that the DOD would bring all the guilty parties to justice.

  None of them would be getting away scot free.

  My father’s office door was closed, and suddenly my stomach dropped at the thought that he had somehow escaped—but then I was grabbed from behind and pulled into an empty office.

  Turning around, I found my father and brother standing there. Luka looked confused and terrified, while my father just looked purple with rage. I kept my own expression neutral.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. “Who are these guys?”

  “We need to get the fuck out of here,” my father yelled, ignoring my questions.

  “How? They’re everywhere,” I pointed out, my tone affected by genuine anxiety.

  “Stefan’s right,” Luka said, eyes darting left and right. “We’re trapped.”

  “We’ll duck out through the back of the conference room,” my father said. “There’s a staircase that goes down to the basement, what used to be an old freight shaft. Let’s move.”

  As he turned away, I saw the dark flash of a gun on my father’s hip, under his suit jacket. Tori had been right to worry.

  “Come on,” Luka said, tugging my arm.

  I had no choice but to follow.

  In the conference room, door locked securely behind us, my father was babbling again.

  “There’s already a car waiting for us. It’ll take us straight to a private jet, and we’ll be in the air before they even realize we’re gone. The fucking bastards.”

  He was sliding over one of the soundproof panels off the wall, revealing an ancient-looking steel door that I hadn’t even realized was there. Though the office building had been renovated into a sleek, modern style, underneath it all the original architecture was still intact.

  Fuck. I had known my father would be prepared, but I didn’t realize how prepared.

  “We’ll start a new life—a new business—in another country,” he was saying. “South America, maybe the Bahamas. I have the passports and money all ready to go.” The door swung open, revealing only darkness behind it. My father motioned impatiently for us to follow him.

  “Wait. I don’t understand,” Luka said. His eyes were wide and he looked like a little kid.

  I hated that he was caught in the middle of this, hated that I hadn’t been able to protect him from our father. But I could take care of him now. Because there was no way in hell I was going to let my father take Luka out of the country—there was no way I’d let him get away.

  “Christ, but you’re slow on the uptake,” my father sneered at Luka. “You want to stay here and rot in prison, or get the fuck out of here and start a new life?”

  My brother hesitated. “I—I don’t know.”

  Scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration, my father managed to flash his gun again. I could see Luka had noticed it, his eyes wide as he looked to me for help. For guidance.

  “We can’t just drop everything and leave,” I said, trying to stall. There was no way I was going to tell my father that it was over for him—that I’d given him up to the feds—when he had a gun on his hip. “What about Emzee? And Tori?”

  “Your sister’s not involved. They’ll leave her alone. And don’t tell me you’re still hung up over your god damn self-righteous bitch of a wife!” my father spat. “Has it not occurred to you that this could all be her fault?”

  “She’s got nothing to do with this!” I lied vehemently. We were both breathing hard.

  If I could just get him to stay in the building a little longer, the agents would find us. They had to be making their way to us even now, I just knew it.

  But fuck if I wasn’t frustrated and pissed. They should have found my father first, gotten him into custody before they ever tried to spread out and take control of the entire office. Instead, I was the one who was going to have to keep him from leaving the country.

  “Suit yourselves if you’re too brainless to save your own skins!” my father exploded. “I’m getting out of here.”

  He ducked through the door, into the dark passageway beyond, sliding the wall panel back into place behind him.

  Luka’s eyes bounced back and forth between the misaligned wall panel and me.

  Swearing under my breath, I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  “You go first,” I told Luka. “I’m right behind you.”

  Quickly, I pulled out my phone and texted Tori.

  911

  kz escaping to garage in secret tunnel

  tell agents now

  Then I stepped over the threshold and pulled the wall panel closed behind me. I could only hope that she would get the message and alert the feds in time.

  Stefan

  Chapter 27

  Through a tunnel and down the stairs we went, the only light coming from our cell phones. It was a steep descent, steep enough to keep our pace on the slower side, lest we miss a step and go hurtling down into the pitch black. If my father was correct, the tunnel would take us through the bowels of building and spit us out somewhere in the parking garage. That was the only place we’d be able to get into a car without being noticed.

  I could hear my father panting in the darkness, Luka sniffling back tears.

  “You fucking useless drunk,” he was hissing, mid-shuffle. “Stop stepping on my heels. You want me to break my god damn neck? I’ll bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  I heard a slap and knew that my father had struck my younger brother. I balled my hand into a fist, praying that when we got to the other side, justice would be waiting. The winding stairwell seemed to go on forever, but I was grateful it was taking so long to navigate in the dark.

  Finally, I heard my father slapping his hands against the wall. Luka was waving his phone around as a flashlight, trying to help my father find the exit. I braced myself for what we’d see on the other side, holding my breath as he finally found a rusted metal door handle.

  “Keep your head down and run straight to the car,” he said, his voice low. “Once we’re all in, we’ll be off.”

  I could hear the glee in his voice, the confidence that he was going to get away with everything and escape to some tropical paradise to start up his criminal activities all over again. I felt a shiver of fear at the possibility that my message might not have reached Tori or that she might not have gotten in contact with the feds in time. No matter what happened, though, I wasn’t getting on that plane with my father. I’d never leave Tori, even if I got shot in the process.

  “Now!” my father hissed, pushing the door open.

  Light streamed into the dark passageway, and for a moment I was blinded. I put my hand up, blinking against the brightness. But I didn’t need my eyes to hear my father cuss under his breath. Standing in the parking garage waiting for us was a gang of heavily armed federal agents in heavy gear, their weapons pointed at all three of us.

  I couldn’t have been more relieved.

  Luka dropped to his knees in shock.

  “Hands in the air!” so
meone ordered.

  My brother and I complied. I had known I was going to be arrested today—it was part of the deal, that I would be brought in with my family, even though I had been assured that I would not be charged. Thanks to my involvement, I had full immunity. This was all for appearances.

  Meanwhile, it seemed as if my father was in a state of shock, his arms hanging limp at his sides. For a moment, I thought he might reach for his gun, but then his hands slowly, falteringly went into the air instead. Even from my position behind him, still half in the dark, I could see that he knew he was outmanned, with no way out. He knew that he had lost.

  The gun was taken from my father and all three of us were cuffed. Only then was I able to breathe freely. It was over. It was all over.

  Still, it wasn’t enough.

  I wanted him to know.

  As we were led to separate police cars, I called out to my father, and his face turned in my direction. He looked old and weak, his skin ashy and his posture stooped, as if he had aged twenty years in the past few minutes. I felt no pity.

  “This was me,” I yelled to him. “You’re going down because of me.”

  Prison wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated. Though I was sure the treatment I’d gotten was far better than what my father was receiving. Despite my immunity, I’d still been kept in a cell until the government raid operations were complete and the necessary release paperwork was dealt with.

  I had ample time to work with my lawyer preparing a statement that would go out to the press. It stated, explicitly, that the illegal arm of my father’s company had been run solely by Konstantin Zoric and a few select executives, all of whom were now in custody. The rest of the family—myself, Luka and Emzee—were not involved in any of the criminal activities that had taken place. Furthermore, KZ Modeling would continue to operate, but only as a legitimate talent management agency. In my new role as President and CEO, I pledged to work with the feds to make sure that the back door business of the company was completely dissolved. KZM would also be rebranding itself in the coming months as well.

  As my lawyer had warned me, the press took to the story like sharks to chum. Both my legal counsel and KZM’s public relations department were inundated by requests for interviews and tell-alls. But I’d already informed my team that the prepared statement was the extent of my public speaking on the matter. I’d be focusing on strengthening the business going forward.

  I was so relieved that everything was over, that I’d finally be able to stop working double-time to effectively run one crooked company alongside my father while simultaneously attempting to launch another, better company behind the scenes—and all of this labor for the same agency. It had been indescribably exhausting, mentally and emotionally, and in many ways my single focus since I’d left college. When I walked out of police custody, knowing that I was officially done leading two lives, it felt like I was walking on a cloud.

  And for the first time ever, I’d be able to make time to focus on my personal life. I could finally be truly present for Tori. Give my wife all the attention she deserved.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to be home with her. I’d been missing her since the arrest, and we’d spoken on the phone, but the need to see her, to hold her, to touch her, became an overwhelming desire that had me even more anxious to gather my things from the prison’s holding area, slip my wedding ring back on, and get the hell out of there.

  Maybe we could even take a vacation together. Me, her, and some tropical deserted beach. Nothing but Mai Tais and hammock naps for the both of us. Clothing optional. My imagination began to work overtime, imagining all the things I wanted to do with Tori. All the ways I wanted to be with her.

  I sincerely thanked the officers who escorted me through the thick security doors and out into the light of day. When I emerged, however, it wasn’t Tori who was waiting for me. It was Luka. He stood next to a black Town Car, waving. Flashbulbs were going off behind the barbed wire fence, and I cringed to think that the media was capturing this intensely private moment.

  Approaching him cautiously, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew he’d been released earlier than me, as he’d had even less knowledge of how KZM’s underground business had worked, and under interrogation my father had immediately (and shockingly) absolved Luka of any involvement—but other than that, I had no idea how my brother was doing.

  He looked a hell of a lot better than the last time I’d seen him. His face had lost some of that puffiness that had seemed as ever-present as the drinks that were always in his hand. In fact, he appeared to be freshly showered, shaved, and well-rested.

  “Free at last,” he said with a wry smile, pulling me in for a quick hug.

  We stepped apart and stood there, staring at each other for a moment.

  “You look good,” I told him.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m trying the twelve-step thing. Getting my act together. Only been to one meeting so far, but…it’s going okay.”

  A broad smile stretched across my face. So he had finally decided to get help. To get better. I felt a surge of pride at the way he’d taken responsibility for himself. It was unfortunate that it had taken such an extreme wake-up call in the form of the KZM raid and our father’s arrest, but I was glad it had shocked him into action.

  “That’s great,” I told him. “You stepped up. Couldn’t be more proud, brother.”

  We settled into the back of the private car and got on the road, heading toward the condo.

  “I just wanted to say…” he trailed off, looking embarrassed, before forcing himself to turn back and make eye contact. “You inspire me. I’m ready to build a life. Like yours.”

  I had to look away and blink the sting out of my eye.

  “You’ve been through a lot,” I told him, clearing my throat. “We all have. But I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  “All twelve of them?” he joked, and we both laughed at his lame attempt at humor.

  “You’re gonna do great things,” I assured him. “Just take it one day at a time.”

  “I haven’t been very adult about any of this,” Luka said, shaking his head. “When I found out about everything—about who Dad really is, the kind of business he was running—I didn’t know what to do. I just stuck my head in the damn sand.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I told him. “You just reacted poorly to a bad situation. But it doesn’t define who you are. What defines you is how you get back on your feet, and look at you now.”

  Luka smiled. “You think well of me. Which is good news, because…” He took a deep breath. “The thing is, I didn’t used to think I wanted any part of the company—even before I knew about the trafficking stuff, I always thought Dad was a tyrant who didn’t treat his employees well. But now that he’s gone, I was thinking…I want to be involved.

  “I want to work for you. Help the agency thrive. Branch out into more diverse models, start promoting inclusivity, rebrand ourselves as true advocates and allies of our talent. I have ideas, Stefan. I’m ready to do this. I mean, if you’ll have me.”

  I leaned back against the seat, mulling over my brother’s breathless proposal. If Luka was willing to come on board and do some of the heavy lifting, bringing with him all the enthusiasm he’d just shown me, I’d be able to step back from agency’s business even more. Spend more time with Tori, maybe start working on building a family. The thought was thrilling.

  “Let me be honest with you, Luka,” I told my brother.

  I could see the apprehension in his eyes.

  “You handled the truth about Dad and the models way better than I did. Maybe it looks like I’m some kind of hero in all this, but it took me years to work up the balls to reach out to the DOD. I’ve known about KZM for a lot longer than you have. And for so long, I did nothing.”

  “You were figuring out a plan,” Luka said, defending me.

  “That’s the worst part,” I said, still disgusted with the naïveté
of my youth. “I wasn’t. I stood by the prostitution for years, because I told myself they were willing. That it was a great way for them to make extra cash to send home to their families. I made excuses on top of excuses, as if I actually believed any of these women had a choice.”

  “I’m sorry,” Luka said.

  I let out a breath. “You know what finally changed my mind? When Dad made Anja disappear, right before I left for U Penn. If I’d been a better man, I would have cared about the models because what we were doing to them was wrong, not because I got hurt.”

  “What matters is that you made it right in the end,” Luka insisted. “You took him down. It’s over now.”

  The car had gotten hot and uncomfortable, or maybe I was just overly worked up. I cracked a window and let the ice-cold Chicago air flow over my face. Thinking about all the time I’d wasted, how many lives had been ruined before I started making moves against my father.

  Luka was staring at me, silent but waiting.

  “You’re right. It’s over. The nightmare is over,” I echoed him. “I’m glad you have the same ethics I do. And I’d be honored to have you by my side from now on. In fact, I’ve been considering how to move forward to rebrand the agency, and I’m leaning toward a new name.”

  His brow creased. “What is it?”

  “Danica Rose Management,” I said. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Mom’s name,” Luka murmured. A grin spread slowly across his face. “She’d be proud.”

  It was a lot of emotion for the two of us to share, so I think we were both grateful to leave it at that and spend the rest of the ride in silence. When we got to my condo, I stepped out of the car and turned back to Luka.

  “See you at the office tomorrow bright and early,” I told him. “We’ve got a fuck ton of work to do.”

  He laughed. “See you there, man.”

  There was a light in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time, a fire that I had missed. I grinned at him, glad that I finally had my brother back and fully present. Glad that we’d be cleaning up this mess together. Who knew, maybe Emzee would want to join us as well.