Colour Series Box Set (52 page)

Sahib has already called me twice, and I let the calls go to voice mail. I also have missed calls from Rowan and Lauri. My heart hurts as I block their numbers and delete them from my contacts. I have to keep them a secret.
I don't want them to know who I really am
. They are all I will have left once I silence my demons, and I will need them. They are part of what comes next, after the carnage I plan here.

.

THE HOTEL SUITE FEELS MORE LIKE home than the disgusting flat did, and I am getting comfortable here. It’s been two weeks since I moved myself in here the staff even greet me by name when I pass through the lobby. I haven’t seen Doctor Shannon again and I am hoping my brothers have left her alive. They need a doctor, so I don’t see them offing her too quickly, but Neil wants her close to me, and it makes me nervous. He pushes the issue every time we meet, what a respectable wife she would make, how she would be ideal for me because she has her own work to keep her busy when I am working. The list goes on and on; I cannot say I haven’t thought about it, but I don’t want or need a wife certainly not now. I need to put her out of my mind and focus on why I came here, but those green eyes haunt my every thought and creep into my dreams. She has taken the place of my nightmares.

I have fucked the tarty girl who works behind the bar downstairs a few times to try and distract myself. But she doesn’t do it for me she is way too weak and she squeals and cries when I hurt her. Not only will it attract too much attention, but it turns me off completely my demons come to life in the bedroom. I don’t need another dead chick in my bed. She stomped off in a huff after I restrained her with my belt; you would swear I
had
tried to kill her. I like my woman a little tougher, they need to take what I dish out and be quiet about it unless I ask them otherwise. I am an asshole to women; I have been for years, and it keeps me safe and sane. Back home I had a steady supply of office staff and secretaries to service my needs, but here it's slim pickings. You see here people know who I am, and any self-respecting woman’s mother has warned her to stay far, far away from all the O’Reilly boys. Me included. I have to hurt them so they can't hurt me. I will have to find someone or somewhere to fill this burning need.

I have an early meeting with two of our diamond suppliers, by suppliers I mean smugglers, and then I have to meet with my brothers. My plans are falling nicely into place, and my allies are arriving slowly to help me clean things up. Yesterday Neil’s oldest son had a car accident; you see I can’t have his precious heirs hanging around when I want to be king. The next person on my little cleaning sheet is a cousin who has risen in the family ranks of late and cannot be trusted to follow instructions as it is. The family believe that the deaths, accidents and business interruptions are all the same men that killed our father, they are not wrong; they just suspect the wrong man. They believe I am in as much if not more danger than they are.
Fools
. I am going to wipe them out - every single one of them must die. I get excited and my pulse races at the thought of their dead bodies being buried next to my Pop.

I am wearing my standard custom made and fitted suit, always black or grey no fancy coloured tie or new age hippie coloured vest. The expensive fabric clings to my large frame, I am thankful that the hotel has a state of the art gym and the small boxing gym a few blocks away is proving to be my new sanctuary.  The sound of fists pummelling flesh is intoxicating the smell of sweat and manliness makes me want to stay there all day. You see before I left this shitty place nearly twenty years ago, I had some less than healthy habits, I was juicing all the time and I had a crush on a girl called Blow. When I moved neither of these was easy to come by. As the new guy in town, no one trusted me enough to sell to me so I replaced them with new habits. One being gym at least three hours a day and sugar, every time that snowy angel calls my name I eat sweets instead. Lauri says I will get diabetes, but even that is safer than the alternative.

Over the last two weeks, I have changed a few things for myself; there is a sleek new Mercedes waiting for me outside, unlike the rest of the family I do not plan to be inconspicuous. I am not hiding what I have worked for, what is the point of all the money we have if we just keep it hidden?  I slip behind the wheel of my new car and feel better about my day instantly. I don’t need a car here as everything is pretty close by, and taxis would suffice, but they are dirty, and I could bear them no more. They also have drivers who in all likelihood are on my brother's books, making them a threat to my plan. No, I like driving myself where I need to be. I like my new car - very much. It is like sex on wheels.

I park on the red line in front of the office building where my father worked from, ‘O’Reilly Shipping and Forwarding’ written boldly across the front of the impressive building.  Any peeler walking this block works for the family, and they won’t be towing or ticketing my car unless they have a death wish.

My North African diamond associates are waiting inside already, time to put on my game face and get this deal done quickly. The two men are complete opposites. The one with the power is a small short man, his skin is the colour of dark chocolate and is well weathered from the harsh African sun and the stresses of his trade. His eyes bulge out of his face and seem to be set too far apart making him look as shifty as his reputation. His watchdog standing six feet tall next to him but muscle bound and imposing. He is much younger than his boss and is just here to keep the little man safe. They are both dressed in designer suits and shiny dress shoes and smell of too much cologne, a trait I find disgusting but very common among the new money in Africa. They also do this to cover their revolting lack of personal hygiene. To them, the cologne is the same as a bath or shower. It's fucking disgusting; they smell of sour sweat and perfumes. I gag at the smell.

These men don’t intimidate me, you see they need me more than I need them crooked diamond dealers are a dime a dozen. Moving those dirty diamonds is where my skills come in. He trades me diamonds for arms and drugs to keep his slaves in line. I sell his diamonds to the Arabs for people, you heard right people who are then sold or traded to other parts of the world where we have thriving drug manufacturing and distribution works. They become workers in our factories, or get sold to sex traders in exchange for them keeping their ladies hooked on our meth, blow or whichever candy they like. You see I have changed my father’s small minded drug business into a global criminal network, an empire that I intend to rule as king. There is no chance in hell I am leaving my brothers to reap the rewards of my work. I made this business the money printing machine that it is, and it will be mine. I will not share; they never shared with me. They took everything.

The man, with no name, we keep things impersonal that way it’s quick to conclude the deal. I only know the names I really need to know, like Sahib. This guy doesn’t like traveling outside of Africa and was not impressed that I was off the continent. He leaves me with 85 carats worth of uncut diamonds stolen from the Lesotho highlands and another 60 carats of cut diamonds from his mining operations in North Africa. I lock them in a safe in my make shift office and walk my guests out of the building. I shake his sweaty hand and agree to meet with him again in two weeks. He is visibly irritated by the fact he has to travel again, huffing out a loud sigh and moaning about the cost of flights and the risk of transporting the gems that way. There is no alternative right now; I just glare at him as he rants about it, and I know he will come back no matter how much he moans about it. As they two men slip into a taxi and disappear, I turn to walk back into the building to go speak with Neil. I wonder what his meeting is about today; he wants to be in the loop, he will never be in the loop. Pretty soon, the loop will not include any of them at all. The loop will be me - and maybe, just maybe
her
.
I never imagined the fresh-faced eighteen-year-old girl that watched as I left Cassie’s room would turn into the woman I have seen. She was just a teenager, so much younger than us. She was quiet and shy.
She was broken, hiding all her darkness away. She kept my secret all this time.

Neil has claimed my father’s office for himself, not that I care, I want nothing from my dad. He never wanted me. I did everything in my power to impress him, to prove myself, but the fact was I reminded him of my mother and no hard work, or good deed would ever change that fact. My father hated me. He detested the fact that I even existed. I was one of the bastards, one of many, we all worked hard gave our lives and souls for him, but we would never be more than dirty marks tarnishing his image. I plan to use that to my advantage now, us, the bastards will be the ones the world fears. In my father's eyes, Mirrie's children were the golden ones, even when he wasn't faithful to her he favoured her. Me, Amya and Harmon -the bastards - we will be the only ones left when I am done. My father took care of most of his other bastards already.

The office already smells of Neil’s stale smoke making my skin crawl and my collar too tight as I breathe in the sour air. I join him and Warrick at the small meeting table in the corner of the office, Warrick is ruffling through papers, he clearly doesn’t have a clue what to do with them.  He looks flustered, and he licks his lips every three seconds, he is jonesing, stupid idiot he has a habit. I can use that to my advantage later. People with habits have 'accidents' all the time, no one will even question his untimely death.

“I don’t understand all this finance bullshit; didn’t Pop have someone who deciphered this for him?” Warrick is still wading through the papers, my brothers never took the time out of the leisurely lives to learn about business. I, on the other hand, wasted a lot of my free time and money getting my MBA. If I am my accountant, no one needs to know the ins and outs except me. I have been doing the company finances for years now. These two fools apparently believe Pops was doing it all. They will believe anything because they know nothing.

“You two need to learn about the business, how are you going to keep shit running if you cannot even read the finance reports? You could be broke, and you wouldn’t know until you were out on your asses.” I add my two cents worth just to stir them up a little. I am enjoying the mind games, I live to torture others. “Pop didn’t trust accountants, he did this shit himself, you two could learn from that. Accountants need to be paid to do the job and paid again to be quiet about it. How is it that I was the wayward son, but I am the only one who has a fucking clue of what’s going on? What exactly do you two do?”  I am poking at the fire now, and I can see Neil is losing his cool. The little boy is coming out to play again, only now I am bigger than him and he hasn't got his mommy to save him from my monsters. No one will lock me in the cellar to keep him safe. He will never be safe from me.

“Well Callum, that’s why you are here, we do other business. I want you to stay on top of things and report to me like you did to Pop.” His snippy tone is childish, and I can tell he is merely reacting.  “I never reported to Pop; he knew what was going on in his empire Neil, so should you.”  I am over playing with them for today. I reach over and snatch the papers away from Warrick. “I will look these over you fucking idiot. We can have a meeting later this week. Try not fucking the whole business up before then.”

I retreat back to my new office; I know nothing will go wrong because I am running things. Those two need to go and soon. Warrick first, he will be easy Art works for me, and I have a plan to eliminate him quickly and easily now that I know he uses our merchandise.

I have been assigned a bodyguard or whatever you would like to call him, his job is to report to Neil what I am doing. Thing is he has worked for me for years already and is as loyal as you get. Arthur, or Art has been my eyes and ears here a long time; we were friends before I left and remained friends after I set this plan in motion. Art has followed me into the office and sits quietly in the corner as he always does; he is “keeping me safe” from the men who murdered my Pop. He cannot possibly save me from myself though; it's too late for that.