Fernwood Lane, a vast expanse of land covering close to twenty acres, had become my latest construction project. Once dense vegetation was acquired and cleared by my construction company, this land was destined to be transformed into a bustling suburb catering to the middle class.
In the world of real estate, opportunities abound for financial gains and even avenues for money laundering. Illegally acquired wealth need not pass through traditional banking channels; instead, it could be invested in construction supplies and projects. The end product, a legal business sold by legitimate means, allowed the money to be funneled back into the banks undetected. Having a reputable commercial bank as a co-investor further facilitated this process.
However, there was a dark side to this business. To safeguard my identity, I relied on individuals my father referred to as 'Fronts.' These were genuine professionals in various fields who, while skilled, were also morally corrupt and greedy. They acted as puppets, representing my businesses while keeping my true involvement concealed. Unfortunately, their avarice sometimes led to mistakes, and that's when construction sites became invaluable in covering up their missteps.
My rage simmered beneath the surface as I paced impatiently, awaiting Chad's arrival with the CFO – the greedy bastard who had dared to steal from me, blow up my building, and put Adele's life in danger.
A guttural growl escaped my lips, a testament to the sheer audacity of his actions. The sound of an approaching car, tires crushing gravel, forced me to take a deep breath, attempting to rein in my fury. I briefly shut my eyes, steeling myself for the confrontation.
As Chad pulled the CFO out of the car trunk and shoved him forward, I could see the state he was in. His hands were bound behind his back, and his face bore the signs of a beating.
"I told you not to touch him," I muttered, directing my words to Chad, who stood there with a defiant yet remorseful expression.
"Sorry, boss. I couldn't resist," Chad said, giving the man another push in my direction.
"Mr. Donovan…" the cowardly fucker tried to speak, but his trembling voice and the stench of urine told me everything I needed to know. I raised my hand, silencing him, and gestured to Sam, one of my men, to give him a letter. Sam promptly stepped forward and handed the shaking man the letter, which he clutched with trembling hands. As he glanced at its contents, tears streamed down his face.
"Read it aloud; let me hear it," I said, trying to maintain an appearance of calm control I was far from feeling.
"Mr. Donovan…" he stammered, his voice barely audible. "You can read, can't you?" I replied sternly. "Yes," he whimpered.
"Then read it loud and clear," I instructed.
"Four basic rules: Do not break the city laws, follow all protocols, don't draw negative attention to the company, never do anything to bring the city through our doors," he read, his voice shaking.
"Read it again," I demanded, wanting the message to sink in. He repeated the words, and I spoke with unyielding calmness, "Read it again!"
The man sank to his knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. "Mr. Donovan, I am so sorry. I was trying to cover up the mistake caused by the Quality Control and Assurance department. The dumb girl—"
Chad didn't let him finish; he kicked him hard in the back, causing the man to cry out in pain as he rolled on the floor. "Call her dump one more time!" Chad growled, his anger simmering on the edge of control.
"Chad… what the fuck! Let him finish his story!" I yelled, trying to contain my own rage. Chad reluctantly walked away, but his fists were still clenched.
"Please go on… what did the dumb girl do?" I asked, my voice ice-cold.
"She made us believe the AgeStopper product was safe and ready for production. We went ahead to start producing and even sent out samples and alerted the media. Then she made a turnaround and said it wasn't safe. If the regulatory body gets wind of it, it would break all your rules, boss. We thought…" he hesitated.
"We?" I prompted, my anger growing.
"Bradon; The production manager and I figured it was best to set fire in the lab to make it look like an accident with no casualties, of course. The insurance would cover the damage, and we would have a valid excuse for the delay. But the fire seemed to have gotten out of hand."
"Yeah, I mean it is a pharmaceutical building with my weapons underground, Gary. Did you stop to think about that?"
"I swear, boss. The chairman never told us what was stored under the building!" he pleaded, fear evident in his eyes.
I seethed with anger and disappointment. These fools had put everything at risk, including Adele's life, just to cover their own mistakes. My mind raced with possible consequences, but one thing was certain—there would be severe consequences for their reckless actions.
"I must say, your plan is brilliant… it cost me a lot of money and goods and merchandise, but it's an old, effective way of getting rid of evidence. It can not be a classic for nothing. So the dumb girl is to blame for all this?" I asked, my tone chillingly calm.
"Yes, Mr. Donovan," he replied, fear evident in his voice.
"Where is this girl now?" I asked, my eyes never leaving his trembling form.
"I - I have no idea…" he stammered.
"Okay, let me show you another classic that's been quite effective…" I said, taking a step back.
Chad stepped forward, grabbing the man by the collar and hoisting him up. The man's eyes widened in horror as he saw the deep excavation a few meters behind me, and two concrete mixer trucks on standby with drivers behind the wheels. He began to plead, to beg for mercy.
"Mr. Donovan, please! Please, have mercy! I have a family. I have children! My family needs me," he cried.
I gestured to the men behind the truck wheels to start pouring the cement into the foundation pit. Gary's cries grew louder and more desperate as he realized the severity of his situation. He tried to run, but Chad swiftly kicked his feet out from under him, and he fell into the squared hole, his body sinking into the wet cement.
"Mr. Donovan, please! I'll tell you everything! Just spare me!" he begged, his voice becoming more desperate with each passing second.
I crouched at the edge of the hole, looking down at him with a cold gaze. "Are you ready to tell the truth now?" I asked, my voice void of any sympathy.
"I'm so sorry, please don't kill me. It was me. It was my idea. We tried to bypass the girl but she called a board meeting and the chairman, Alexander Hawthorne, honored it. She tried to stop the production…"
"But you planned to kill her instead. To save your ass. Do you know what Hawthorne knows that made him give her the respect and power to call all you fuckers to warn you, Gary?"
"I - I…"
"He knows who Adele Rutherford is to me." I saw his eyes widen in bemusement. "Before you die, I want you to know why you are inside here right now. It is not because you stole from me or made a bad call to burn my building. Victor Donovan would kill you and your entire family for that, but not me. You are going to die because you tried to kill my woman! My woman."
"Oh, my God!" He exclaimed.
"Too late," Chad said and gestured to the truck guy to continue to pour the cement. We stood back and waited for him to disappear under the chemical mixture before we turned away.
Chad hurried ahead of me to pull the helicopter door open for me to enter, he joined me inside along with Sam, the two guards that were shadowing Adele, and two other men I had come with from Brooks. Soon enough, the copter lifted into the air, and I settled my gaze on the cemented grave and then looked away.
A few minutes later, the helicopter landed on the hospital helipad, and we hurried inside. Mark was sitting on a foam-padded bench in front of the door to Adele's room. He stood up when he saw us approaching. His shirt was torn, and his face and entire frame were covered with soot. Both of his hands were bandaged.
"How is she?" I asked as I came to a stop.
"Resting. She is fine. She hit her head, but the wound is superficial…" Mark replied.
"You need to go clean up," I said.
He nodded, holding my gaze, "I had a few minutes to be with her, but I don't want to take chances…"
"Mark…"
"You go to her, Archer… She needs you more," he said. I swallowed. My heart constricted as I clenched my jaw.
"You understand…"
"I do, but she almost died tonight, Archer…" he said, patting me on the shoulder, and then strode past me. I heard him greet and thank the men as I took a deep breath, opened the hospital room door, and entered.
I hadn't seen her for close to eleven months. I had missed her so desperately. All those weeks we spent together haunted me every night that we were apart. But I stayed strong, knowing I was doing it for her safety.
Seeing her lying there, vulnerable and injured, with bandages wrapped around her forehead, I couldn't help but let my emotions resurface. A shaky breath escaped my nostrils as each step forward drew me closer to her bedside.