“I’ve been dreaming about this moment, Kevin. I couldn’t forget the last time.”
You’re here for Lucy and the boys, don’t be a fuck-up.
He grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away. Her eyes widened with surprise. “Isn’t this what you want? Why did you fly me here?”
He released her hand and stared out the window for a few moments. The entire city of Manhattan was sprawled in front of him. Isn’t this what he dreamed of as a young man: a life of luxury and decadence, fucking insanely hot women and having more money than he could count. However, this wasn’t the man he’d become. Nothing could replace his family.
He turned toward her. “Mai I don’t know what happened between us in Japan. I think I was drugged in the bar. Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
She quickly covered herself, “That’s bullshit, Kevin. We made love that night and it was incredible. I felt your emotions, it was amazing.”
He swallowed hard, this is what he feared. It was no longer just business, this was personal. There are very few things worse than a woman’s scorn. It would be harder than he initially thought and was probably going to cost him a lot more.
“Mai, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I was drugged. I thought I was making love to my wife. I was fucked up. I’m sorry.”
She avoided his gaze and her shoulders drooped. She was clearly hurt and embarrassed.
“Mai, how did you end up in my bed that night?”
She looked at him again, her glistening eyes fighting back the tears. She gently bit her lower lip, carefully measuring her words.
“You called me to come over. We flirted in the office that day, don’t you remember?”
The fact that she answered him with a rhetorical question, and her sudden uneasiness, set off sirens blaring in his head. It was time to up the ante.
“Mai, who hired you and how much did they pay?”
She leapt toward him and slapped him forcefully across the face. “Are you calling me a whore?” The sudden smack shocked him and completely pissed him off.
I have to stay calm and be rational.
He rubbed his cheek to smother the sting from the blow.
She’s not going to tell me the truth or anything useful because she is afraid they’ll kill her.
He waited until his anger dissipated and then turned toward her and said blankly, “I want you to resign from Intelias and never go back to Tokyo. I’ll transfer to your account one million dollars cash tomorrow morning. Oh, and I never want you to contact me again. If you do, I’ll tell them exactly where you’re hiding, and I’m sure you know the consequences for double-crossing them.”
He could see her eyes darting from side to side. This was a big moment. Everyone on earth has their price. That’s the laws of nature, the way of the wild. He could see her mind processing the options.
She is probably thinking, damn that slap knocked some sense into him. He chuckled internally.
She slowly stood up over him and dropped her silky white nightgown to the carpet. He watched it disappear from her body like a waft of smoke.
“Fine, I agree, but I’m not going to tell you another word about that evening. Also, you’re going to fuck me one last time. I need to know if what I felt was real.”
He stood up toward her, his mouth only a few inches from her lips, chest pressed against her erect nipples. Goosebumps appeared on her skin, sexual instincts taking over. He stared squarely in her passion-filled eyes, “What you felt wasn’t real, and I’m not going to do this. I’ll transfer you two million dollars tomorrow morning. Goodbye, Mai.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and she hugged him tightly.
“I’m sorry I did this to you,” she whispered softly. He nodded and gently pulled away from her naked body.
Her apology almost sounded genuine.
He exited the suite, running low on trust.
20
Action & Reaction
He awoke revitalized, pleased with last night’s outcome. The issue of Mai was behind him and his marriage safe for now. He leaned over and kissed Lucy’s juicy lips.
“Good morning, my love,” he said sweetly in her ear and sprung out of bed in the direction of the shower. He ticked off his morning push-ups and prepared breakfast.
“Hey, boys, do you want sunny side up or omelettes?” he shouted from the kitchen.
Lucy was helping the twins brush their teeth and get ready for school. He heard a muffled sound that sounded something like omelettes.
Why do I even ask? He and Lucy always preferred sunny side up and the boy’s omelettes. He poured a drop of olive oil and then flawlessly cracked four eggs onto the sizzling pan. He prepared the omelettes in the opposite pan. After a few minutes, he flipped the omelettes. “Breakfast is ready, guys. Hurry up,” he called out with a smile as he heard the boys arguing with Lucy about the usual mundane nonsense. In the past, the mornings always felt like a chore. Now he appreciated every moment, he took nothing for granted. Everything and everyone in his life could be lost in an instant, but there was an unparalleled beauty in the fleeting.
“Come on, guys, hurry up,” he shouted again.
Ding Dong, the doorbell rang out. He quickly switched off the induction hob and headed cheerfully toward the door. “Good Mornnn . . . what the hell?” he stared at her, baffled.
“Mai, what’re you doing in my fucking house, we agreed on a deal?” he whispered in an aggressive tone. Any second Lucy and the boys would be in the kitchen for breakfast.
“Kevin, I want five million dollars. This money has to last me the rest of my life. You asked me to disappear, and I can’t do that on your offer. Let’s just say that there are people willing to pay more for me to stay.”
He couldn’t believe it. She was bluffing. No chance she was stupid enough to contact the Et Decem. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying. No way I’m going to pay that. A deal is a deal.”
With determined eyes, she stepped toward him into the apartment.
“There’s more you don’t know. And I might as well speak with your wife. Let’s see what she thinks.”
He placed his open palm on her chest and pushed her back. He could hear the boys charging through the corridor like buffalos. In seconds they would be in the kitchen and within view. “Fine, we’ll talk about it. I’ll meet you in your suite in an hour and you can tell me everything,” he said in hushed voice and quickly shut the door on her amused face.
He leaned against the door, his heart beating wildly. If she rang the doorbell again, he would be fucked. The boys were already in the kitchen and he could hear Lucy’s high heels clicking on the marble in his direction.
“Was somebody at the door?” Lucy called out from the kitchen.
The boys were already seated and she was sliding the omelettes onto their plates. He walked toward them slowly, submerged in anxiety. He was stuck in an underwater bubble unable to come up for air.
“Who was at the door?” she said more assertively this time. He barely heard her voice; his ears were ringing.
“Someone came for Jane next door. Looks like they got the wrong apartment,” he finally stammered and eased himself onto the kitchen counter stool.
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t hear the concierge call up,” she said nonchalantly.
You didn’t hear the concierge because that bitch Mai can get men to do anything.
The boys munched away happily on their omelettes and triangular toast. He looked vacantly at the two sunny-side-up eggs resting on the plate in front of him. His appetite evaded him, he couldn’t even take a bite. He slowly sipped the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
Will I ever be able to get rid of Mai? I know she didn’t risk speaking to the Et Decem, she was bluffing. There is no other offer. But if she is blackmailing me, it’s never going to end. She’ll only disappear until the cash runs low. What option do I have? Pay her endless sums of money? Kill her?
The thought sent shivers through his body.
“Kevin! Did you not hear the boys? They just asked you if you can teach them how to make a paper airplane.”
She huffed in frustration.
“What’s wrong with you? In the morning you were all energetic and now you’re a recluse. You acting bipolar,” she scolded him.
He lowered the glass with orange juice onto the granite counter and stood up hastily.
“You’re right, Lus, just work weighing on my mind. I’m sorry, I have to go. Bye, my boys!” He kissed their heads. “I’ll teach you guys how to make the paper airplane tonight.”
He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. He could feel Lucy’s fiery eyes burning through his back as he stepped out of the apartment.
Honestly, sometimes I think she hates me.
He charged into the Four Seasons lobby, stopped short in his tracks by Marcel, the hotel manager, who greeted him warmly with a hug. He was always pristinely dressed and sported a crew cut because of his receding hairline. Over the years they had developed a close friendship.
“Thanks, Marcel, for organizing that wonderful suite in Tokyo. I appreciate it. I’m in a rush for a meeting. We’ll talk later.”
Marcel winked, smiled, and spread his arms out wide. He was a gay man with exaggerated gestures, but Kevin wasn’t sure exactly what he was referring to. Marcel had given him the look of I know what you came here for. Kevin reciprocated the smile and tilted his head slightly to the side indicating his confusion.
“You’re here to see that beautiful woman. What an elegant masterpiece she is, really lovely,” Marcel said, flashing a playful grin. Kevin chuckled wryly, “Oh Marcel, it’s not like that. I’ll tell you about it when I have some free time.”
He gave him another hug and trotted toward the elevator. He pressed the button to go up and waited patiently. He noticed that the left elevator was descending from the fortieth floor. His gut told him to wait for it; maybe it was her. A few seconds later, the doors revealed two sharply dressed men. He recognized them instantly, it was the leader and the henchman from John’s apartment. The merchants of death. They nodded sternly in his direction and quickly strode off toward the hotel’s main exit. He rushed into the elevator and quickly pressed her floor.
What the fuck did you do, Mai? Oh my God!
While the elevator ascended, he frantically kept pushing the button for the fortieth floor, urging it to go faster. Finally, the elevator stopped and he dashed toward her suite in desperation. The door was locked. He banged loudly. “Mai, it’s me, Kevin. Open the door.”
Nothing. He pressed his ear against the door; there was no sound of movement. He banged again, this time shouting loudly, “Mai, open the fucking door now, it’s me. Please open the door.”
He tried to force the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. From the corner of his eye he saw a Latino housekeeping lady watching him in amusement. He stopped banging and strode purposefully toward her. “Mis disculpas, señora, can you please open the door for me? My girlfriend is sleeping.”
He pulled five hundred dollars from his wallet and placed it in her calloused hand. She shrugged her shoulders and unlocked the door.
“Muchas gracias, señora. You didn’t see me, OK?” he said to her and entered the room.
“No problem, señor. I didn’t see nada.”
He closed the door behind him. The suite was ghastly quiet. All the curtains were drawn. “Mai, are you here?” he shouted again despairingly. The bed was freshly made and in its center lay a white envelope. It was addressed to him. He ripped it open with trembling hands and removed a small handwritten note.
You’re responsible for this. We know that she was trying to blackmail you. Remember your little sperm sample in Tokyo? She was pregnant. You should be thankful.
He crumpled up the note and envelope, placing both in his pocket. Mai made the fatal mistake of trying to blackmail them as well. Pregnant or not, it was too late for that, he knew what to expect. He walked slowly toward the bathroom door, paying special attention not to touch anything. He pushed the door open with his elbow. He was drawn first to her silky black hair that draped out of the oval bath and onto the marble floor. Her head tilted onto the side of the bath, eyes open and lifeless. She lay in a pool of blood. He covered his nose and mouth to stop himself from vomiting. Empty syringes and pills littered the bathroom sink. He approached her naked body, carefully avoiding the pools of blood that formed around the edges of the bath like small red ponds. Some of her hair was caked with blood and matted to her forehead. Her right arm lay over her breasts, multiple deep incisions visible on her wrist. He couldn’t bare the atrocious site anymore. He turned around and scrambled out of the suite, panting heavily. He keeled over in the corridor, reeling from the gruesome site. He took in short bursts of air, suppressing his vomit.
“Todo bien, señor? Would you like some water?”
He slowly lifted his head; the Latino housekeeper was standing behind the amenities trolley. He grabbed the water bottle from her outstretched hand, forcing the water down his throat like he’d just come off a gut-wrenching hangover, soothing the bile creeping into his mouth. He poured the remainder of the bottle over his head and grabbed a white hand towel from the trolley. He hastily dried his hair and face and slung the towel into the trolley’s laundry bag.
If the Feds find out I was here, I’m going to be in deep shit. That Agent Walker is already suspicious after what happened in my house.
The housekeeper gazed at him with troubled eyes; something was very wrong. He stood up straight and broadened his shoulders.
“I’m OK now. My girlfriend killed herself,” he said attempting to sound calm. Her olive face wrinkled in terror, she shivered like a horse repelling flies.
“Ahhh mm hhh mmmm, I saw men coming into this room, señor,” she stuttered, struggling to fathom the implications.
He placed his palms on her thickset shoulders. “Señora, did these men see you?” he asked firmly.
“No, no, señor. I was cleaning in the opposite room with the door slightly open. I saw them through the gap.”
Kevin nodded, expressing sympathy, his eyes inconspicuously catching the small rectangular name tag of her white cotton blouse.
“Listen to me carefully, Carla. You’re right, these men killed her. If you talk to the police about seeing anything, they’ll kill you and your entire family. Do you understand?”
He shook her by the shoulders.
She placed a hand over her mouth to suppress the involuntary sobs and shrieks that emanated from her plump body, her eyes wide with terror and tears. He hugged her tightly until her breathing slowed.
“I understand, señor. I didn’t see nothing, and I didn’t speak to you or anybody,” she sobbed. Her eyes were littered with fear. She knew exactly what would happen to her if she spoke. The Colombian cartels had made more than one public atrocity as an example to educate the entire population. He didn’t need to repeat himself.
“OK, Carla, you go can about your daily work like normal. Then you go home safely to your familia.”
“Muchas gracias, señor.” She nodded, thankful to return to her duties.
He strode quickly toward the elevator, wanting to cover his tracks and find Marcel before the cops were alerted. He found him moments later in the main lobby, chatting to a touristy Chinese couple. The diminutive wife’s pink beret and her slender husband’s black leather jacket completed their retro look. They were both swamped by a multitude of Gucci and Louis Vuitton shopping bags. Marcel was sharing his natural charm and they giggled away happily. Kevin dashed toward them, shoes clicking on the stone floor like a tap dance. Marcel flipped around, sensing the approaching hurricane.
“Ah my friend Kevin, I’d like to introduce you . . .”
Kevin interrupted him mid-sentence, “Not now, I need to speak with you urgently.” He motioned with his eyes for Marcel to excuse himself. Marcel kindly apologized to the Chinese couple and approached him. “What’s going on, darling? I don’t like being rude
with the guests.”
Kevin cut to the chase. “The woman we spoke about earlier is currently lying in the bathtub with her wrists slit and in more blood than in an abattoir.”
He watched Marcel’s sculpted fresh face contort, it was a combo of shock and horror.
“Oh, my goodness, that’s crazy. Did you call the police or the ambulance yet?” Marcel shrieked.
“No, I didn’t call anybody yet. I need a favor first. I want to take a look at the security camera footage so that I can maybe understand what made her do it. Was she seeing someone else? Did someone visit or speak with her this morning? We were seeing each other, and I deserve to know. The police will not let me see any footage once they arrive.”
Marcel grimaced and nodded. “OK, what a shame, looks like you had feelings for this beauty. A suicide of a lover is terrible, especially if there are unanswered questions.”
He guided him toward the security room located in the underground parking area of the hotel. They quickly strode past the long line of luxury vehicles until they reached a metal basement door with a red and white sign that read staff only. Marcel punched in a code on the door panel and it opened with a loud buzz. The room was filled with at least ten small monitors and another four larger ones. All were displaying some kind of video footage of the hotel’s public areas. They were approached by a lanky, bespectacled guy with curly hair.
They shook hands warmly, and Marcel introduced Kevin.
“Jim, we need to look at the security-camera footage from the lobby and the fortieth floor from the last two hours.”
Jim immediately plopped into his chair and began filtering for the footage.
“OK, gentlemen. I’ve got it. Let me drag it onto the bigger screens, so you can see clearly what was going on.”
He made a few more annoying clicks with the mouse and the screens flicked on. One was displaying the goings-on in the lobby and the other the corridor of the fortieth floor. The top-right corner of each screen displayed the time. Kevin checked his watch; both videos were displaying two hours back. The usual traffic of check-ins and check-outs was occurring in the lobby. On the other monitor, he could see Carla milling about with the vacuum cleaner.
The Voss Coin Page 17