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She nods, letting out a breath. “I’ll need some time to think on that, then.”
“You have way more than that to think about.” I kiss her lips. “You still need to decide if you’re going to be Meredith Thatchwood or someone else.” I don’t give her a chance to make that decision right now; it’s silly to expect one.
“I’m chartering a private jet to New York for you on Monday,” I say, running my fingers through her hair. “I’ll pick you up when you land in the evening, after I’ve finished what I have to do, I’ll help you plan ways to get even.”
“Does that plan include helping me take down my dad’s entire legacy?”
“Yes, but I’m going to help you do something even better than that.” I pull her close. “I’m going to help you build your own.”
Michael
Now
Subject: Last one this week.
I just finished Mr. Hobson at the shipping pier.
I showed no mercy, and made sure he felt everything he deserved.
They won’t find his body until next week.
–Trevor
Subject: Re: Last one this week.
I’m on my way to finish the person who’s responsible for everything we’ve been through.
They’ll find his body minutes after I leave.
–Michael
Subject: Re: Re: Last one this week.
Please don’t tell me you’ve decided to go soft on him…
I was hoping that his death would be one of the most brutal.
–Trevor
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Last one this week.
It will be.
I fucking guarantee it.
–Michael
Michael
Now
Monday
There’s no reason why a man who built his empire on the premise of “helping foster kids” should be wealthy. Poor kids and low salaried social workers don’t necessarily make for huge dividends or returns on the stock market.
Of course, for Ryan Teddy, this isn’t the case. He owns his own golf course, two resorts in Southern Florida, three hotels in Los Angeles, and he’s opening a casino in New Jersey in the fall.
Well, he thinks he is. He won’t be alive to see it.
Just like all typical suits who hail from Wall Street, the money is never enough and political power is the ultimate goal. He’s had several failed runs for offices all over the country, but as of two years ago, he finally won a seat as a small-city mayor.
I even donated one hundred dollars to his campaign.
They were counterfeit bills, but it’s the thought that counts.
Out of all the men on my list, he’s by far the vilest. I’ve watched him closely for over a decade—taking stock of his shady business deals and sexual affairs, learning what makes him the pile of shit that he is. I’ve made it my personal mission to know him better than he knows himself, and I want him to hurt him more than anyone else since he has the most to lose.
“Mayor Teddy isn’t taking visitors at this time,” his secretary says as I approach. She blinks a few times, and I can tell that the itch drops I placed in her contact solution this morning are working.
She won’t remember my face, only a blur of a man in all-black with shades.
Nothing more, nothing less.
“I’m an old friend.” I look at my watch. “I’m on his exceptions list.”
“Oh.” She smiles, and takes out the bottle of eye drops. “What’s your name?”
“Bill Brooks.”
“Ah! I was wondering if I would ever get the pleasure of meeting you. You’re the only one on his list who I haven’t met yet.” She extends her hand and I shake it. “How do you know Mayor Teddy?”
“You’ll have to get the long story from him.” I smile. “We go way back, though.”
“Oh. So, you’re a childhood friend of his?”
“Yes. Something like that.”
“Well, I’ll let him know that you’re here and—”
“Actually, don’t,” I say. “It’s been a long time. I want to surprise him.”
“Oh…Well, I guess that would be okay.” She smiles. “He’s probably finishing up with his team in the boardroom, since he has to get ready for a charity function, but you can wait in his office. It’s down the hall and on the left.”
“Thank you.”
“Wait,” she says, moving from behind her desk. “While you’re down there, can you tell him that I stepped out to clean my contacts?”
“Absolutely.”
I wait for her to step out into the hallway and check my watch. When I’m sure that she’s made it to the restroom, I lock the door to the office so she won’t be able to return.
I don’t take heed to her directions.
Ryan Teddy is not in the boardroom. He’s where he always is at three o’clock in the afternoon: In the over the top shower room he had installed next to his two-million-dollar digital golf room.
Walking down the small hallway that leads into the shower room, I have no need to double check if what I’ve set up is correct; I’ve tested it for months, had it planned for years. No matter where he was, or which of his properties he was in, I knew exactly how I wanted him to leave this world.
