FIVE
RAFFAELE
“I saw her. Again,” I hissed while Amadeo happily trained his eyes on a pretty brunette on the dance floor. She was swaying her hips to the mindless rhythm of rock music that the DJ played.
“Who?”
“That girl, one with a false ID and no name,” I replied, downing the rest of the alcohol.
“Jeez, stop obsessing over one woman, Rafe! Or, have you forgotten this is Las Vegas? There’s no shortage of pretty women, even for a blind man.”
He waved his hand to gesture.
His lack of grasping essential matters in the business was entirely beyond me. And as for women, I have different tastes and demands, one that deflected from the usual definition.
“How can it be a coincidence that every time she crosses my path, she flees away?” I asked.
“Are you paranoid about being stalked by a woman?” My idiot brother grinned at my expense, having his own brand of fun. “Mum said you behaved weirdly at lunch, too. Is that because of her?”
I smiled, saccharine sweet. “No, it’s because I was having a gala time shopping for useless things after you ditched mother at the last minute. Speaking of, where the hell were you?”
He turned a bit serious, a rare look I ever saw on him, and began to pull me towards the private area. Unlocking the door, we sauntered into my office and closed the door.
“Do you remember a year ago, we made a deal that cost us three million dollars?” Amadeo asked, pulling out a tab on the computer screen. “Here are the details.”
I gave a quick read over. “Yeah, a shell company with an untraceable account. What about it?”
“Well, one of your business houses in Hong Kong was dealing with a similar shell company. When I tried to look into the details, there was none. So I back-channeled the payments and laid a honey trap, just to find the trail. And boom! I found it.” He pointed at a series of transactions made to and from untraceable accounts worldwide through shell companies.
“There are at least seven such corporations,” I muttered, glancing at the numbers.
“That’s not all of it, Rafe. These shell companies were dealt with by various corporate houses from London, Germany, Singapore, and New York. These scammers are so clean that it was impossible to track them until they made this mistake.” He pointed at the screen, making no sense to me.
Amadeo was the brains behind the accounts. He had a few interests, orbiting around computers, numbers, and women (not in that exact order, though), and the rest of him was all fun.
“That boy is a wonder child,” I have always heard my mother say. And the fact that he was my mother’s favorite; he shamelessly flaunted the fact just to irk me.
“You got to speak English here, Amadeo,” I mumbled, looking over rows and rows of numbers that looked puzzling.
“These transactions are little tricky to track unless some huge, uncharacterized payments are made. Whoever this person was, had dire need to launder a huge sum of money. As a result, they used the parent company – Donovan Inc - to operate.”
“Donovan Inc.?” I asked, drawing a chair closer and sat down. “Why haven’t I heard the name before?”
“That’s because it’s one of the various corporations of the United States and nothing significant. It was established by the CEO, some Bruno Donovan. Upon his death, his wife Kyla Donovan do the dealings and transactions.”
“What do we know about her?” As expected, Amadeo had already scanned her background. He pulled up a couple of folders with details of her photographs, news articles, and businesses.
“Kyla Donovan, 47, inherited her husband’s company when he died twenty years ago. Her businesses look perfect on paper, which means she is good at this money embezzlement. She has kept Donovan Inc. at the forefront and deals with all the illegal ones in the shadow.”
I went over all the information and profiling, noting the details. “What about her personal life? Family, second husband, boyfriend, escorts…there must be something.”
A frown appeared on Amadeo’s face. “That’s what is odd about her - all business and clients. I couldn’t find anything about her family. But what I did find is here current residence.” He pointed at the screen, flashing house deeds. “She is in Las Vegas. Kyla Donovan purchased an apartment a month ago and moved in here recently.”
Now that’s called information. I smiled.
“I will have Cesar round up a couple of men to bring her here. Can you go with them? I have a feeling that this woman is as slippery as an eel, given it took us years to even track her down.”
Amadeo nodded as I texted Cesar with the necessary details. This debt – ten fucking million – Kyla Donovan would pay. Either by paper or by blood, whichever I would choose for her.
CELESTIA
“There has been a change of plan, Celestia,” my mother, who suddenly entered my room, announced. She was in her usual pantsuit, immaculate hair and makeup, and clutched the phone and passport in her hand. “I will be gone for a week.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say because having her around didn’t make much of a difference when all we did was eat together and have formal conversations.
“For my sake, please don’t step out of the house. Whatever you need, Oscar will get you. And I have also hired two a maid and a cook for whatever you need.”
“Thank you. Have a safe flight, mother.” Swiveling the chair around, I faced the screen before me and dragged myself back to the courses. The soft thud and a subtle ‘goodbye’ were heard, which meant my mother was gone for a good week. All I have to do was call her twice a day to ensure my safety and well-being. The rest of the information I gathered, she would receive from the house staff.
The evening rolled away, and after dinner, I decided to dive into the book ‘Where the Crawdads Sing.’ Engrossed, absorbed, and transported to another reality, I didn’t realize the time until a soft knock on my door resonated.
“Come in.”
It was Oscar, checking in for his nightly schedule. “Miss, is there anything you need?”
I shook my head, placing the book aside. “No, thank you, Oscar. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, miss.” He left as quickly as he arrived, and I could say with absolute certainty that he would be back in the wee hours of the morning to check for my comfort and safety once again.
As I stood before the giant window, overlooking the shimmering city, I realized that of all the cities I have lived in, Vegas turned out to be something different. I couldn’t place a finger, whether it was a good or a bad feeling, but never have I felt this alive. And somewhere in the deep dark corner of my mind where I wouldn’t visit, I knew that it has something to do with that strange man.
Earlier in the day, I exhausted myself on the treadmill, listening to endless music blaring from the air-buds. So when the night came, I was physically spent for the day and decided to retire to bed with the same book on my lap.
I must have fallen asleep too quickly because when I woke up next, it was still the same inky night, and the digital clock beside my bed read 1:42AM. The house, which was otherwise a silent concrete box, suddenly reverberated with a thud akin to a gunshot, except it wasn’t that loud.
Fear gave away to panic, and in three seconds flat, my senses sharpened with adrenaline. I slowly crawled out of bed and strained to hear with every ounce of my concentration as the heavy footsteps approached.
Screaming wasn’t an option, I knew.
And so wasn’t the window because when you are on the thirtieth floor, you couldn’t jump your way out. This wasn’t a Hollywood movie. It was my life and very much real.
Sprinting, I hid behind a long floor-length curtain beside the window as closet and bathroom would be an obvious choice.
“She isn’t here,” I heard a gruff male voice, storming into my room and mindlessly wrecking things, looking for…someone. Is this what my mother feared her entire life that she has been warning me forever?
“This is someone else’s room,” another man remarked. Were they looking for my mother or me?
I should have paid more attention, but one moment’s flinch – one moment’s mistake – sealed my fate. A meaty paw yanked the curtain aside and took away the last ray of hope.
“Who the hell is she?” A grating voice asked, but I wondered how much of it audible above my own screams and cry for help. Immediately, a hand clamped over my mouth, and an arm slung around my waist.
A strong flashlight fell over my eyes, blinding my vision.
“Holy shit, it’s her,” he whispered like he knew me.
A sharp sensation pierced through me like a bee sting against my neck, and before I could even put a fight against the invincible, I blacked out.