"MY PILOT SAID he did not see you," Vittorio said into the phone. Marshall chuckled and replied, "I am very sure I can leave your town on my own, Vittorio." Vittorio grunted and hung up the phone. He was so close to sending some of his men to find and kill Marshall, but apart from the fact that he knew that Marshall was more skilled than most of them, he still saw Marshall as that lost kid called Crouch that he found about two decades ago. He felt sentimental towards the boy, so he just sighed and dropped the phone on the table. A light knock made him turn his head to the door as a young boy walked and faced Vittorio. The boy bowed and said in italian, "Ha qualcuno che può vederla, signore – You have a visitor, sir."Vittorio nodded, "Let him in," The huge figure of Maxim filled the doorway as the Russian walked in. "I was beginning to wonder when I would be seeing you," Vittorio said. He called to the departing boy, "Oi! Versaci da bere." The boy hurried back and pulled two gla
JON WOKE UP feeling like the past two days had been a dream. But he looked at the foot of his and saw the crimped suit that he had worn at the funeral yesterday. He sighed, swallowing back the lump he suddenly felt at the base of his throat. He rolled out of bed and sat, hanging his head between his hands. He had not known just how his real father, Stefan had grown on him. The stranger that had picked him and his friends up from a gunfight had suddenly become someone that he could lean on. He sighed and stood up, drank a cup of water on his bed stand before heading to the bathroom to prepare his bath. He had only finished brushing his teeth when he heard the sound of a car pulling up downstairs then he remembered that Vincent and Jeffrey were heading back to New York that morning and he had something to ask Vincent. He had originally forgotten about it but since the talk with his friends the previous night, it had come back to bug him. He washed his face and rushed down the stairs,
JON SAT IDLY in the window seat of the plane. He was flying economy class – he could just see his father's face now and he gave a sad smile. It was probably going to be the last time he would fly economy given his new status. It was going to be first-class or private. A mother with a bawling child was seated beside him, trying to calm her child and it made it impossible to try to rest his head. He gave an ironic chuckle as he remained that if he wanted to, he could buy the plane and the whole airline in a second, but here he was, staring into the mouth of a six-year-old that is scared of flying. The child noticed that Jon was staring and became self-conscious. The tired mother dropped the child on the middle seat and sighed in relief when her child gulped in air and quietened down "Scared of flying?" Jon asked gently. The little boy nodded, wiping his eyes. "Yeah, I used to be scared too," Jon said. "Really?" The boy asked, "But you are a grownup." "Grown-ups can also be scare
"What is your name, ma'am?" He asked, ignoring her question. "Keisha," She replied. She didn't know where this conversation was heading. "Keisha Bronx.""Now, Keisha," Jon leaned on the counter, "How would you like to have a business partner." "Huh?" "I would have offered to buy the store," Jon said, looking around. "I would never sell," She snapped. Her tone was starting to become hard. "I know and that was exactly why I didn't ask," Jon said soothingly. "My name is Jonathan Stone and I would like to be your business partner.""I don't understand where this is all coming from," Keisha replied slowly. "There is nothing to partner here. I mean, take a look around you." "There is nothing to partner here yet," He put emphasis on the last word, "How would you like to manage a chain for pharmaceutical stores across Illinois?" "That would be –" "How about we talk about this over a cup of coffee?" Jon gave her a charming smile. "Um, yes, sure," She stammered, "If you would, please g
"MAXIM, MEET DMITRI Boris, although he prefers if you call him Boris," Igor said. The two men sized each other up. The man, Dmitri a.k.a Boris, stuck a hand out and Maxim took it. "Dmitri, this is Maxim. He is my nephew and the person that needs your, uh, service." Dmitri was a tall man. So tall that Maxim's 6-foot5 just about got up to his shoulder. "Drinks?" Maxim asked, "I'm buying." Boris nodded and Maxim waved to the waitress. "Maxim, why do you need the services of Dmitri?" Igor asked. Maxim cocked his head and smiled. He turned to Dmitri and said, "I hear you are an assassin." Boris nodded again. He had not said anything the whole time. "Why haven't I heard any word about you from the underground?" Maxim asked. "That is the whole point of being assassin. A ghost, that is what I am," Boris said in a cold voice. Maxim nodded. "I ask again, Maxim," Igor said, "Who is it?" Maxim kept on looking at Boris, "I want you to kill Vittorio Orsatti." There was a stunned silen
"WHY WOULD MAXIM bug your phone?" Jon asked. Nicole had hopped on the next plane out of New Jersey and now they were taking a slow walk on the streets of Illinois. "Because he knows we are up to something and he wants to know what," Nicole said. She looked up at Jon, "He is not exactly one of your fans." Jon scoffed, "I know that. But to bug your phone? That's FBI, M16 kind of shit." Nicole chuckles softly, "It is. And I know Maxim… he had the capability to do it. He might even have me followed." Jon looked back. Nicole laughed and said, "Relax. If I was followed, I would know. Jon nodded but could not help occasionally glancing back. "He would know you came here to see me." He said. She shook her head, "My parents live here. Even though I don't want to, I'll visit them. He would think I came here for them." "How are your engagement plans progressing?" Jon asked. She snorted. "Right now, I don't know. Maxim has not said anything about ending things off, but neither do I hav
SHE RETURNED THE kiss with equal fervour. Jon felt her hand circle his neck to pull him closer and his hand went around her waist to draw her closer too. He felt different bursts of emotions inside his body as Nicole's tongue darted quickly into his mouth and made contact with his. The sharp ring of her phone made them pull apart quickly. Jon cleared his throat and looked away, unable to meet her eyes as she picked up the call. "Hello Mom," She said into the phone. There was a pause as she listened and then she said, "Hmm, yes yes, I am in Illinois," another pause. "I was going to come through, I just had to –" Her mother interrupted. Jon could not hear what was being said on the other side. Nicole sighed, "Yes, mother. I am going to drop by for dinner," She turned and looked at Jon. Jon, knowing that look on Nicole's face mouthed, "No. No," She smiled and said on the phone, "Mom, will you mind if I bring someone?" A pause. "Yes, yes. It is a man and no, he is not a nobody." Ano
"YOU KNOW HIM," Nicole muttered. "Who doesn't?" The big man snorted. "The son of Stefan Stone. I am sorry about your Dad, by the way." He did not offer his hand for a handshake and neither did Jon offer his. They simply stared daggers at each other. It was Nicole's mother that tried to diffuse the tension. She said, "Welcome to our home, Mr Stone," she smiled widely, "I see you've met Nicole. I am Patricia," Jon nodded, "Thank you for having me, ma'am." Claude Bishop snorted and waved his hands for them to sit down. He sat at the head of the table, with his wife by his side. Nicole and Jon sat side by side. Claude waved his hand again and some uniformed servants filed in and started serving them their dishes. Jon watched on without saying anything. They could have just taken their meals by themselves. But they seemed used to this already. Claude held his goblet out for a servant to fill it with wine while his wife, Patricia, was tucking in a napkin over her scrawny neck. A serv