JON SMILED AND shook his head. Chris bent over and placed his hands on his knees and laughed loud and long. Then he stood up straight, still chuckling and said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He tried to regain his composure as Jon and Amanda looked on. "What's the matter?" Jon asked, a smug smile plastered to his lips. "I mean, we can all clearly see that," Chris said. "That is a big fake." He looked at Amanda who was still caressing the bag gently with her fingers, "It looks pretty like an original to me. It even feels original." "It's a good fake." Chris argued, "You know how much an original designer item costs?" "Yes, Chris." Amanda deadpanned Chris with a killer stare, "I do know how much a Louis Vuitton original cost." "Y-yes y-yes. I didn't, um, m-mean that question to you." Chris stammered, "I was talking about him. How would he afford it?" "I don't know. But I am glad he brought it –" Her hands had touched a piece of paper. "Oh wait, what is this?" She removed the small slip
JON STOOD IN THE road, waiting and looking out for any signs of the limo. He constantly rubbed his palms together and blew into them from his mouth to keep them warm. The sun was just beginning to set and from his watch, he could see that he was been waiting for almost an hour. He was just about to turn and return to the party when a voice called at him. "Oi, Jon!" He groaned even before he looked at the person. "Kim!" He nodded at her in acknowledgement, "I was just going back to the party." "Did you think about what I said earlier on before those moron friends of yours came in the way and interrupted us?" She asked. "I didn't think of anything you said, Kim." Jon snapped. "We are done and done for good… and you can go to the police about any whimsy story that you can come up with.""Oh, is that so, huh?" Kim asked. "Yeah…" The silky sound of an expensive car engine drifted to them as a limousine approached. They both turned to look at it. Jon saw the bulky figure of Peterson
"I KNOW YOU," Jon muttered under his breath. He could not believe it. He had seen that face multiple times, he recognised the figure too. "Yes, you do," Stefan said, he smiled. "You were with us till about 6 years old." Jon shook his head and took a step back. "So those were not my imaginations… they are real." "Sure, Jonathan." Stefan said, "They are." "My mother? Where is she?" Jon asked. Stefan sighed and said, "Sit down, Jonathan." He gestured to a lush sofa by the corner. "Where is she?" Jon repeated, not moving from where he stood. "She died, son." Stefan sighed. Jon stiffened. Stefan held him by the arm and led him to the couch. Jon sat limply on the couch. Stefan poured more whiskey into Jon's glass. "Drink up." He sat heavily beside his son and handed Jon a little paper. Jon collected it and saw that it was a little picture of a pretty woman. "I got her cheekbones." Stefan snorted. "Like hell. You got her whole face. The only I gave you is your stature." "Can I k
"Yo, bro. This is banging!" Jeff said as he twisted and turned in front of the mirror. "Yeah right!" Paxton said. "We are going to be the talk of the party! Hey, Jon… where did you get the money to buy all these for us?" Jon smiled but did not answer. He did not yet want to tell the rest of his friends the truth about his family. "Dress quickly. The limo would be here soon." Jon said. "Did he just say limo?" Paxton yelled. "I think he did." A gentle horn sounded outside. "Yep," Jon said. "Come on boys. Our limo is here." They cheered and walked out and into their amazing ride. THE PARTY WAS already in full swing when they got there, so there were surely a lot of eyes on them when the limo pulled over and the young men stepped out, looking elegant and expensively dressed. The crowd seemed to part to let the men walk by and into the main hall. "Oh damn," Paxton muttered. "This party is wild.""Come on. Let's play it chill." Jon said, "Let's head to the bar and check the place
"OH SHIT!" JON ducked into the crowd of dancing people and tried to make his way to the bar where his friends were. The words that Vincent had said that first night suddenly rang in Jon's head and it all made sense now.Vincent had said, “The family has lots of money, power, riches... and also enemies,”"Was it like the Mafia?" Jon asked himself. "Oops!" He dodged a flailing hand as he tried to lose himself in the constantly moving crowd and flashing bulbs. He looked up and saw that the leader of the SUV men had gotten to the bar and was starting to engage Paxton in a conversation. "Shit!" "Come here!" A hand clamped on Jon's wrist and twisted him. He turned and reflexively punched hard at whatever he could find – which turned out to be the man's throat. The man released Jon and clutched at his throat. "Sorry…" Jon said, mixing up and disappearing into the crowd again. He glanced up again and saw that Paxton, Rick and Jeff were laughing and nodding at whatever it was the man wa
"IS HE DEAD?!" Rick asked. "Is he dead?" "Shut up, Rick." Jeff snapped. "Why didn't he say anything?" Jon asked no one in particular. He tried to sit Paxton up. "He probably didn't feel it. The adrenaline." Stefan said from the limo. "We need to try and stop the bleeding," Jeff said. "Bring him in, we'll call for a doctor," Stefan said. Jon looked at him warily, "I thought you wanted him out of your car, now there's a possibility of blood stains on your plush seats." "Don't be a hard ass, Jonathan," Stefan replied. "Your friend's life is at stake." He's right. Jon nodded stiffly. "Let's carry him in." With the joint effort of Rick and Jeff, they carried Paxton into a seat at the back. Paxton groaned as they dropped him. "He's awake, don't let him fall asleep. Keep him talking." Stefan said, whipping out his phone and dialling a number. "Paxton. Paxton." Jon slapped his friend's face hard. "Hey, wake up. Wake up." "Stay with me, man," Rick yelled. Jon and Jeff turned and l
JON COULD NOT believe his eyes as he stared at the woman he thought he would never see again. Then slowly, she looked up and directly at Jon. He gave a small smile and was about to wave, a man came to stand by her side, he put his hand on her waist and she stiffened at his touch. "You know her?" Stefen prodded his son. "Um, No… I mean, Yes. Who are you talking about?" Jon feigned like he did not know who his father was talking about. "You know who I'm talking about." Stefan said, "You were staring pretty hard." Jon sighed. "Okay, I met her once. The night I met Vincent for the first time. I helped her at, um, a bad time." "And since then?" "She left in a hurry but she left me with her contact card. But I've not thought of giving her a call." "Why not?" Stefan asked. Jon shrugged. "I don't know. She seems out of my league." "What?!" "You know, I was almost arrested for being seen with her," Jon confessed. Stefan chuckled. "Are you being serious?" "Yeah." Jon muttered, "She
"GOOD JOB, SON," Stefan said, patting Jon discreetly on his back. "I did well?" Jon asked. He could not believe it. "You did very good." Stefan said, "This little show would keep them buzzing for a long while… and you've made yourself a personal enemy." He gestured with his head to where Maxim Ivanov sat stiffly, staring daggers at where they sat. "Damn." Jon said, staring back at him, "That look is pure hatred." "Yeah. Now, we have to leave." Stefan said, "Our financial staff will handle the payment. Let's move." He stood up, brushing away an imaginative speck from his suit's arm. Jon followed his father's movement, buttoning up his jacket as he stood, they walked outside to where their limousine and media were waiting. "Wait for your prize. I'll be in the car." Stefan said, walking out. Jon could hear the sound of shutters snapping as the journalists took as many pictures as they could. Jon stood near the door, waiting for 'the dejected lad' to be brought to him. Then he saw
"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