"MAN, THAT SHIT is ugly." Paxton groaned from his bed. "That's art, Paxton Sullivan," Jeff said. "Well, art is ugly," Paxton said. Making all of them laugh. Jon had come to the penthouse a few hours ago, finalizing the plan he had against Maxim in his head. He was so deep in thought that he had forgotten about his friends whom he had left here earlier that night. As soon as he remembered them, he pulled the sculpture to the west wing where his friends were with Paxton. Paxton was awake so they all had their say on the sculpture. Jeff has said, "It depicts a lot. The sculptor is talented."Rick had said, "It looks weird. Weird and creepy." And Paxton had said, "Man, that shit is ugly." The 'dejected lad' sculpture sat in the middle of the room, reflecting light on its shiny black surface. "How much did you say you got it again?" Rick asked Jon, who stood at the doorway with a hand in his pocket. "250 million dollars." He answered nonchalantly. The amount sent Paxton into a cou
THE FLIGHT TO New Jersey was uneventful. Maybe a little boring perhaps. They got to the family mansion in New Jersey and they were blown away by the size of the mansion. It was also a lot busier than the penthouse. As soon as they arrived, their luggage was taken and carried into the house. "You all will take the 3rd floor." Stefan said, "Use the elevator." "There's an elevator?" Rick asked. Stefan nodded as they walked in. "We'll eat breakfast in an hour." They nodded in reply and walked in the direction of the elevator. "Can you believe this?" Rick whispered in excitement. "I actually can't," Jon replied, looking around in awe. "It is… it is… wonderful. Justin wonderful." "Come on. We don't want to be late for breakfast." Jeff hurried them into the elevator and pressed the button for the 3rd floor. Their floor was expensively furnished. "My God!" Rick breathed, he ran his hands over the furniture and glassware. "Damn!" "Clean up." Jeff said, "You don't want to keep them w
JON WAS STUNNED for a moment after what Poppy said before he dashed to the kitchen to get a cup of water. When he got to the dining, Poppy had gone limp on the floor, her head was cradled on Jeff's thighs. "I think she's dying!" Jeff panicked. "Oh, God! Oh, God!" Rick yelled. "Put the water in her mouth." Jon looked at his father, who looked on like nothing was happening. Vincent sat calmly too, quietly sipping on his coffee. Maureen, who was being accused of poisoning, folded her arms at the door.Jon knelt beside Jeff and opened Poppy's mouth, tilting the cup a bit so water flowed out. Just as the water touched her lips, she gasped and leapt from Jeff's thighs. "Ah!" Rick bolted from the room. She giggled. "That was good, wasn't it?" Maureen made the sign of the cross – touching her forehead, then right and left shoulder – herself before she left the room with a slight frown on her face. Jeff and Jon, who were still kneeling on the floor, lost at what just happened as Popp
CHAPTER 21The sound of a V8 engine roared in the night. The tire splashed a small puddle of water. "Oi, Hugo. Open the fucking gate, eh?" Igor yelled at his gateman. The small Latino man hurried out of a small shack near the gate and pushed open the gate in a fidgety manner."Why do you still keep that man?" Maxim asked as the car sped through the gate. "He is so incompetent." Maxim turned Igor gave a hearty laugh, "Hugo? He is indispensable." Maxim snorted in reply but did not say anything. The car rumbled in a throaty growl as it sped down a dark thin road. "Where are you taking me?" Maxim asked, looking as they sped past small depleted buildings on each side of the road. "A surprise, Synok," Igor said, calling Maxim a childhood pet name. "Don't call me that." Maxim snapped, "I'm not 5 years old any more. I'm not a child." "Ah, but you'll always be a child to me… Synok" Igor laughed aloud. "Ha-ha. Very funny, uncle." Maxim said sarcastically. He placed his elbow on the wi
MAXIM STOOD AND paced around the small room nervously, his hair stood in disarray from constant ruffling with his fingers. His uncle Igor stood, resting on the wall, smoking his cigar and blowing it in circles. "That's it." Maxim said, "I'm done here. I'm out." "Out?" Igor asked, "What do you mean by out?" "Exactly how it sounds uncle." Maxim replied, heading for the door, "I'm out of here." "Wait wait," Igor dropped his cigar and stubbed it out with the toe of his shoe. "You're not a quitter!" "I'm not quitting anything. I never agreed to this." Maxim snapped. "True. That's fair enough." Igor said he put his hand in his pocket, "But then, what is your next plan, eh?" "I don't know." Maxim shrugged, "I might go to Houston to see Dad. He must have heard the news…" "And what do you think he will tell you?" Igor cut Maxim short, "Eh? Go on, answer me." Maxim looked down and refused to meet his uncle's eyes. "He will tell you that such is how the billionaire business world is,"
JON LOOKED OUT of the window of his office. He could not believe it. It felt like he was on top of the world. It looked like he was on top of the world. The company's building topped every skyscraper around them and Jon's office took the whole of the top floor. "You like it?" His father asked. He turned to see Stefan walking with two glasses of whiskey in his hand. Jon collected the glass and turned to look out of the full glass window. "It's breathtaking." "Yeah." Stefan brought the glass to his lips and took a drink. "There's the bay area, there." He gestured to the left side. "You can see parts of the water if you look over the skyline." "Yeah, I see it." Jon nodded and then turned to look at his father, who was seating on a plush cushion, "So what does the family do?" He asked, walking back to seat on the CEO's chair. Stefan chuckled at Jon's confidence and said, "A lot of things, but what you'll be heading in this tower is our Real Estate and property development in this a
"BUT WHAT IS IN Delaware, eh?" Igor asked, following Maxim to the Lincoln parked behind the mansion. "Jonathan Stone," Maxim said, slamming the trunk shut and heading to the driver's door. "What? How do you know that?" Igor asked. Maxim held the driver's door, half opened and turned to look at his uncle, "I have my sources." He said, before folding himself into the car and closing the door. "You should be going with a driver," Igor muttered. "Driving is therapeutic, uncle," Maxim said, stepping harder on the gas to rev the engine up.Igor sighed, "But don't be a stranger, eh?" Igor called over the roar of the car engine, "Be sure to visit sometime, eh?" "I will," Maxim called back as he reversed and turned to face the gate, as the small Latino gate man ran to open the gate. Maxim chuckled as he nosed his way past the door and screeched off in the car, "I will visit more often, Uncle Igor." "And put some ice cubes on your face," Igor called after the already-gone car. He sighed
JONATHAN STONE'S CARD just declined. He almost had a panic attack caused by past trauma. He never thought he'd ever hear that sound again in his life. The shop attendant gave him a weird look. Jon collected the card, cleaned it on his trouser and handed it back, "Try it again." She swiped the card through the machine again, it beeped an alarm and flashed red again. "It is declining, sir." The sales girl said, sarcastically. "I can see that!" Jon snapped. "Maybe… you don't have enough money in the account." She said. "Careful how you speak to him," Rick intoned. "Well, he should be sure he has enough money before going on a shopping spree…" She snapped back. Jon was quiet. He was confused. "Sir, I don't mind, I can drop the clothes," Oliver said in a small voice. "No," Jon said."No." The sales girl said simultaneously, "We have a no-return policy." "What?" Rick asked, "According to your 'policy', it only applies when the product has stayed for 24 hours with the customer. 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