"BY THE SHOCKED look on your face, I am guessing that they are not your bodyguards," Aaron said without any worries in his voice. Jon shook his head. "No, they are not." Aaron sighed but didn't say anything more. He put his arm along the headrest of Aaron Jr.'s seat like he was trying to shield his son from whatever it was that was out there. Jon did not need to think hard to guess who had put the tail on him. It was obviously Maxim Ivanov and Antonio Orsatti. He sucked in a breath through his mouth and whipped out his phone. He dialed a number and said, "Hello, Lucas… I am being followed." "Followed?" Lucas asked, "What do you mean by that?" "I mean, there is a fu–" He glanced at Aaron Jr. by his side and met the eyes of Aaron, " – fudging car following me. A brown sedan with two guys in it." "How do you know?" Lucas asked. "My guest saw them from the moment we left the tower," Jon explained. "For fuck's sake," Lucas swore. "There's a kid beside me," Jon said. "Is the call

THE DINING TABLE was filled with people for breakfast once again. Just like before. Vincent had brought Mark home and they had given him a couple of rooms for his stay. So it was Jon, Lucas, Rick, Paxton, Vincent, and Mark O'Donnell. Not like the family it was. But also not so far off. Jon walked down the stairs and saw everyone was busy eating. He gave a nod to Mark O'Donnell whose eyes traveled everywhere as he ate. He gave a nod to Vincent who sat on the left side, next to Jon. His face was buried in the morning paper. He fist-bumped Paxton and Rick as he walked past them and gave Lucas a look as he sat down at the head of the table. Immediately, a cup of coffee was placed before him by a maid and he took a small sip. As usual, there was the occasion chatter at the table. Rick and Paxton had taken an immediate liking for Mark and they talked in hush tones as they ate. Jon cleared his throat to get Mark's attention before asking, "How is the unwinding of the tape coming?" Mark

"GET US TWO shots of Russian vodka, eh?" Igor called to the bartender. She looked at them dryly and lazily reached for the cabinet of drinks behind her. She poured it into two small glass cups and pushed it expertly so that it came to a stop directly in front of each man. "I didn't come here to drink, Uncle," Maxim muttered. "But nothing is stopping you," Igor said, drinking his glass in one gulp. He patted Maxim behind his back and said, "Go on," He urged. Maxim hesitantly drained his glass. "Bring us two more, eh," Igor called again to the bartender. Maxim looked like he was about to argue, but he clamped his mouth shut and allowed himself to be cajoled into drinking by his uncle. After they had gone through 4 shots of vodka, his uncle Igor finally said, "So… You are here." Maxim nodded, "I am." "What brings you here?" Igor asked, "You look troubled.""That is because I am troubled," Maxim said. "Dis I tell you about a tape?" "What tape?" Igor asked absently. He signaled to

"YOU SHOULD STOP by our tower for a bit before heading back to New Jersey," Vincent said as they got back on the plane. "I think I will," Jon replied. Vincent nodded and said something into the phone hanging by his side. He spoke to the pilot, telling him to redirect their course of flight to New York."Do you think Mr. Mitrovic will do anything?" Jon asked when they were airborne. Vincent nodded. "I know him from way back. Your father did too, and there are not more capable people in this world than him." Jon relaxed. He reclined his seat and let his thoughts drift. In the case where Mitrovic did not do anything to Jon's satisfaction, Jon already had a plan formulated in his head on how he would exact revenge. He thought back and tried to align his thoughts."Tell me again, how was my mother killed?" Jon asked. The question threw Vincent off for a second. That was not what he was expecting at all. He looked out the window and tried to gather his thoughts before replying. "Uh,"

JON HAD HIS driver, Luke, drive him to the ghetto town that he was working on. He was glad to see that Aaron and his crew had started working already. They all looked professional with their helmets, shiny jackets, and large trucks. Amongst them, he could see some of the men from the ghetto working along with Aaron. "Mr. Stone," Aaron called as soon as he sighted Jon.Jon smiled and made a beeline to him. "I see you've started working," he nodded and looked around. "I told you. As soon as possible," Aaron said and guffawed loudly. "There is someone I want you to meet." He said. Then he turned and yelled, "Oi, Carter!" A disembodied voice yelled back, "What?!" "Get over here!" Aaron yelled back. Jon could not see who was replying because of the flurry of activities going on. Foundations were being dug. Scaffoldings were being built. All at the same time. A small man came through the bustle of activities. "Mr. Stone, this is Carter," Aaron said. "He is the brains. The architect.