“FOOD DELIVERY,” JON called through the closed door. He waited as he heard the locks and latches being unlocked on the other side. The door creaked open slowly. Jon’s face broke into a wide smile, “I have your orders ready – ““Yeah yeah, whatever.” The man said, collecting the carton box and tossing the money on the floor before slamming the door. Jon sighed. “So much for good customer service.” He muttered to himself as he bent down to pick up his fee.He removed his cap and ran his fingers through his hair and he walked down the patio and to his work bike. He suddenly remembered that he had not replied to a message from his girlfriend, telling him that she was not feeling too well. “I’d have to stop by a drugstore then.” He swung his leg over the bike and started to reply to the message. ‘I’ll be home soon. Will get you some drugs on the way. Be safe. I love you.’ He hit the send button and drove off.“No one should be working by this ungodly hour.” He said to himself as he r
Jon gave a maniacal laugh. He stood up abruptly and read the message again. Surely a joke... and an expensive one at that. He laughed. My surname isn’t ‘Stone'.He looked at the message again, taking care to count how many zeroes were in the figure. “Seven zeroes.” He whistled. “One hundred million dollars, Oh boy!” I had better call the bank. There must be some sort of mistake. He dialled the bank customer care service. As he waited for someone to come online, he whistled a tune he vaguely remembered from his childhood. Even though he was certain no one played that song in the Foster home that he grew up in. Damn, no one played any song in that house. Not unless you wanted an intense ass-whooping. He smiled absently. “Hello. Citibank, Washington D.C” A voice said mechanically, startling out of his little trip into memory lane. “How may I help you?” “So, um... I received a message of a credit alert.” Jon said. “I’m sure it was just a mistake that can be –“ “Hold on, sir.” The
“YOU’RE MY HERO!” The drunk lady giggled beside Jon. She scooted over and gave him an alcohol-infused hug, which was awkward because the taxi was a cramped space. “You are my Knight in shining armour.” She said again. And then she relaxed against his arm, smiling and humming a tune. “Where are we going, sir?” The driver asked with a Mexican accent while throwing occasional glances at Jon through the rearview mirror. “Um, tell me... what is the best hotel in town now?” Jon asked. “Okay sir...” the driver sped on. “We have the Metropolitan. It has a good 4.5 rating...” “is that the highest, most expensive?” Jon asked. The driver looked at Jon again and at the words written on his shirt. It was the food delivery uniform. Their eyes met in the mirror and the driver cleared his throat. “No sir. There’s one with a 7 stars rating. The Continental – that’s the name.” “Isn’t that the biggest hotel on the west coast?” Jon asked, excitement creeping into his voice. “Yes sir, it is.” “The
CHAPTER 4IT ALL FELT like a movie or prank of some sort. "Cops?" Jon asked. His heart hammered in his chest as he took a step back uncertainly. The receptionist was already dialling on her land-line, smiling and looking happy to be putting Jon where he belonged. "Yeah. Hello… this is the continental Hotel…" She said into the mouthpiece of the phone. "Why are you calling the cops?" Jon asked. "I have done nothing wrong." He exclaimed. "Oh, you haven't, yeah?" The manager asked, sneering. "Why are you sweating and panicking then?" Jon touched his forehead and it was wet. "Hey, that's not what you thi–""Shut up, you poor bastard." The manager snapped. "... yes. We would need some sergeants here urgently…" The receptionist continued to the phone. "... and yes, they should be heavily armed…" She threw a dirty glance at Jon. "...the culprit looks like who would cause a lot of trouble and resistance… Yes, thank you." Then she dropped the mouthpiece with a satisfied smile plastered
JON FROWNED SLIGHTLY. He was getting embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable. The manager quickly noticed the change in Jon's countenance and apologised, "Sorry, dear sir. I just need to hurry her up." "It is enough. I just want to get my room now, that's all." "Of course. Of course." The manager said, hurrying behind the receptionist, who was still flustered from the slap. "Step aside, Jenny." He took over the desktop and a few seconds later, he looked up. "Successfully checked in." He reached underneath the counter and extracted a gold keycard. "Here you go." "Thank you." Jon collected the card. "Enjoy your stay at the continental Hotel." Jon snorted and walked away, leading the still-drunk lady clinging to his arm. If looks could kill, Jon and his lady would.be very dead because of the look that the receptionist gave them. Jon felt the heat of her gaze on his back and he turned to meet her gaze. Their gaze locked and exchanged daggers between them.The ping! sound from the elevat
"NOW WHERE THE fuck are you, Nic?" The voice asked again. The lady took a sharp breath in before she said, "I was at a bar… and I took one glass. Just one, I swear." Her voice started sounding uncertain. "... but then I got drunk. Very drunk." "I didn't ask for all of these…" The voice snapped on the phone. "Where the fuck are you?" "Some hotel… I guess." She glanced at Jon who stood near the door. He nodded at her to affirm what she said. "You guess?" The man on the other end gave a dry laugh. "So you're not sure. How did you get there?" "I don't know." The lady shrugged. "I woke up here… on a fluffy bed and pillow." "So maybe you were not so drunk after all." The manager snorted. "Get back home, Nic. Now!" And the dial tone came on. The line went dead. The lady scoffed. "Typical. He hangs up the phone." Jon cleared his throat softly and that caught her attention. She pinned him with her clear grey eyes. "What happened here yesterday?" Jom shook his head. "Nothing. I can as
A PART OF Jon grew mellow and unsure of his situation but another part, the rich Stone part was defiant. And that was the part that came out. Rico and Kim laughed and brushed past Jon, bumping hard against his shoulders. Jon turned slowly and looked at them, "Well fuck you. The both of you can go to hell…" Rico stopped and turned, "What did you say?" Jon pushed his chest out a bit and stood tall. "I said fuck the both of you. I am going in there…" He pointed to the shop, " … and I am going to buy a gift. A very expensive gift for someone." There was silence for a moment before Rico burst out laughing. "Kim… Kim… did you hear that?" He continued laughing. "I did hear what he said," Kim replied coldly. Her face did not show any hint of a smile, "You can't afford a gift of more than 100 dollars, Jon. And even for that, you would have to almost starve for 3 months." Jon smiled, "Yes… that was then. And besides, you're never worth anything more than 100 dollars, Kim." Kim gasped. H
"WELL, WHAT DID you decide, sir?" The salesgirl assigned to Jon drew his attention away from his thoughts of revenge. "Sorry, yes yes." Jon said, rubbing his temple, "What was it you said, again?""I was saying that the things you picked are limited editions from the designer. Are you sure you want to buy them?""Yes. I am." Jon said, nodding his head. "Okay, sir." The sales girl said. She came out from behind the counter to get the items Jon had picked. On a normal day, with a normal customer and any other salesgirl, it should be another free salesperson – most likely her – that would be sent to fetch the items for the attending salesperson. But she wanted to avoid any other outburst from her colleagues so she went to get the items by herself. She picked up the LV bag and Channel perfume from their respective showcases and walked back behind the counter. Kim and her boyfriend, Rico, looked on with interest as the sales girl dropped the items on the counter and asked, "How do you w
"HOW ARE YOU feeling today?" Jon asked as they left the hospital. His hand was around Nicole's waist, supporting her as they walked out with her nurse in tow. "A lot better," Nicole smiled. "That room was starting to feel a little crampy." Jon chuckled. "There is a lot of space where you are going now." Nicole smiled. They got into the waiting limousine and Jon's driver pulled out of the parking lot. It had been a week since Maxim fled for Russia and things had been relatively quiet. There were no talks about assassins or attempted murders anymore. For Jon, the only annoying part was Antonio Orsatti, strutting around like a peacock. He had to do something about him. But what? He asked himself. "What are you thinking about?" Nicole's voice drew Jon back to the present. He shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. I'm excited you are coming home with me." Nicole gave him a knowing smile and said. "Maxim is behind us now."Jon coughed out a laugh. "Why said anything about Maxim?" He as
JON DROVE TO the hospital parked, at the end of the lot and sat in the car, taking deep breaths and calming himself. He ran his hands over the steering wheel. There was a loud whine of an engine behind him. He turned to see a Porsche squeal into the parking lot some yards away from him. He turned to see Antonio get out of the car. He flipped a loose strand of his long hair behind his ear. He put on sunshades and then walked into the hospital. Jon was in awe of what Antonio was doing here. "What the fuck?" Jon muttered under his breath. "When did they even release him?" He asked himself. He wanted to follow Antonio and confront him about what he was doing here, but he decided to wait it out and see how it played out. He did not have to wait for long because, after a few minutes, he saw Antonio coming back out. Jon opened his car door and folded himself out. Antonio was taken aback for half a second when he saw Jon standing in the parking lot. He looked hesitant to approach Jon bu
THE MANSION WAS lit up with sirens the following morning. A servant tapped on Jon's door to wake him up. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and went down in his pajamas. Alex Brandon and Mirtovic stood in his grand foyer. He stepped out just at the same time as Vincent, who was a little more formally dressed than Jon. "Head director," Vincent nodded at Mitrovic, and then he turned to Brandon, "Head director," he nodded again. "To what do I owe this surprise?" Jon asked dryly. Lucas came out of his suite and eyed the men. If looks could kill, both Mitrovic and Alex would have dropped dead. "Have a seat and drinks maybe," Mitrovic said. Jon snorted and led them into the study room. Lucas poured out 5 glasses of Whiskey. Vincent declined his, "A little too early for alcohol. Don't you think?" Jon nodded in agreement. He collected the glass from Lucas but did not drink it. "What do you have to tell us?" Mitrovic took a drink from his cup before saying, "News just got to us.
"YOU CAN GO in now, Mister Stone." Jon stood up and gave a small nod at the FBI agents who had spoken to him. He walked into the room to see Lucas seated. Lucas looked up and gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I told you something would happen," Lucas said when Jon came in. "They screwed it up, didn't they?" Jon nodded. He paced the small room and massaged his eye socket. "You should call Vincent," Lucas said. Jon stopped and looked at Lucas like he was about to argue. But then he nodded again, "I will. What were the charges against you? Why did they bring you in?"Lucas scoffed. "Did they need to have a reason?" He asked back. "I saw the way the Brandon guy looked at me that first time, he wanted to bring me in from there." Jon didn't have anything to say to that. So he sighed and said, "I am going to get you out of here." Lucas nodded as Jon left the room. He got back into his car and sped out of the parking lot. His mind was spinning as he drove into the mansion. H
IT WAS ONE importance of having numerous contacts in every area of the world. One of his contacts had informed him of the incoming arrest. Maxim had been in the kitchen, making himself breakfast when he received a text from his contact saying that there was a big arrest of a Russian coming the next day, all the bosses in the head offices were riled up and prepared. That was all the heads up that Maxim needed. He tossed the eggs into the trash can and left the house without even parking a bag. Just his car key and the clothes on his body. He hopped into his G-wagon and drove gently – He didn't overspeed. Nothing to catch their attention – to the airport. He told his pilot to take a one way flight to Russia immediately but that was not possible. The pilot had told him that the fuel wouldn't carry them nonstop, so they had to make a stop in France to refuel, before making the last half of the journey. That sounded fine. He just wanted to be out of New Jersey when the FBI came knockin
JON HAD A very short night. He woke up 3 hours after he closed his eyes, and his eyes remained open. After lying prone for a long time, he turned and glanced at the bedside clock. It was 6 a.m. "I might as well prepare for my flight back to New Jersey," He muttered as he threw the covers back and swung his leg over the edge of the bed. He grunted to his feet and went to the bathroom. He stepped into the cold shower to wake him up for the morning. After washing up, he headed downstairs where the maids were already setting the table. Vincent had told them last night that the big boss was going to leave very early the following morning, so they had to wake early to make sure he is well taken care of.Jon took a seat at the dining table and nodded as his meal was served. "Have one of you get my bags from my room upstairs," He said to a servant boy who nodded and headed up immediately to get the bag. Jon took a bite of his breakfast and then turned to another servant nearby, "Go knock o
JON COULD NOT believe his ears. He stood on the port deck and watched the distance as Chambers approached their closest ship docked in the open sea. "Did you hear what I said, Master Stone?" Vincent asked. Jon nodded and said, "I just need some time to process the information." Vincent nodded and held his hand behind his back. He let Jon mull over the information in silence. After a few minutes, Jon asked, "Are they going in hot?" Vincent nodded, "Frok what he told me, They've got the FBI and Interpol with them. I don't see any way Maxim Ivanov would escape his arrest." "Lucas seems to think they'll screw it up somehow."Vincent gave a sad chuckle. "Your stepbrother has always had a pessimistic outlook. But I want you to see the bright side." Jon nodded, "By tomorrow, everything will be over. Maxim will be behind bars or facing trial snd my fiance will be safe again." Vincent nodded. "Yes. You should be glad."Jon was not sure how he was feeling. He still had a tugging at the b
JON HAD BEEN flying constantly between New York and New Jersey over the last week. More guards had been stationed from Washington D.C. to his house and office. He had a fleet of 8 large vessels now and was finally going to speak with Miguel about the trading routes. He was just finishing a cup of coffee when Oliver popped into his office. "Sir, there's someone here to see you," He said. Jon raised an eyebrow, "Who is it?" Oliver cane in and closed the door gently behind him. He cleared his throat and said, "She said she's from the NBC news station. They want to run a story on you." Jon was surprised. "Me?" He asked. Oliver nodded. "Personally, I don't like the media. I can turn her away if you like. The desk downstairs held her." Jon swiveled on his chair and thought aboht it. Then he shook his head and said, "No. Let her up." Oliver nodded dutifully and walked out. Jon shook his head and smiled wryly. He picked up his telephone and called Lucas's office. He was answered wit
IT WAS ALMOST a week since Jon went to see Mitrovic with the evidence. The past week has moved in a blur and it had been relatively calm. There was no assassination attempt, no faked accident. It was just a week of business, visiting Nicole, staying in constant communications with New York, and handling things in New Jersey.Jon was at the office when Oliver walked in, "I just secured another deal for a large vessel." "Hmm," Jon nodded. "That makes it the seventh.""Yes, sir.""How much did this one go for?" Jon asked. "Uh, 120 million dollars," "Is it worth it?" Jon asked. Oliver nodded. "Yes, yes. For sure." "Okay then," Jon rubbed his palms together. "Have it sailed and docked in New York. I will be headed there by the end of this week. I'll have the workers ready too." Oliver nodded. "We would need a sea line plotter," Jon paused and looked up, "What do you mean?" Oliver cleared his throat, "We'll, sir. They can't just be roaming the free waters like some pirates. They nee