Heartless People |Book 3|

Chapter 29

"Heroes don't exist. And if they did, I wouldn't be one of them."

—Brodi Ashton

PRESIDENT MYOI

I wanted to hate them, but how could I when I'd sold my soul? Every time I entered my office, the office of all offices, I saw their faces, I heard their voices.

Puppet. They'd called me, and it was true. For months, I had almost forgotten how I'd gotten here. It was simple enough with one of them locked away in jail and the other God only knew where. Now that they were back, my life's purpose seemed to require me to honor them and smile for them. What was worse was the fact that people truly believed in them. They were the like the Kennedys, the Vanderbilts, or the Rockefellers.

The Constitution stated that "no title of nobility shall be granted by the United States," and yet the Manobans were a family like no other. They were a dynasty, and while historians will tell you that that doesn't last, they are wrong. Dynasties had a way of fading into the darkness, making you believe they aren't there until they came back with a vengeance.

I had always believed the Manobans were like roaches. Their money was stained with blood and drugs...but it was money all the same. And when my Mina met Bambam, I just knew that there would be a price to pay. But I also knew that she, and our family, would be taken care of. I hated the Manobans, but I hated the fact that I needed them more. Being "the most powerful man in the world" came at a price, and it when this ended, I would be able to relax again.

"Mr. President," Jessica said as she strutted in as usual, smartphone in hand.

"No more press conferences." I groaned as I leaned back into my chair.

"Actually, the Director of the FBI is here. He wishes to have a word with you," she answered.

I knew the Manobans had some kind of vendetta against the man, but I had no idea why. The poor schmuck was probably clueless as to why the whole world was spiraling out of control and was now worried about his job.

"I thought I told him to go to Turkey?" I questioned.

She nodded. "I'll send him in."

Sighing, I stood up behind my desk and straightened my tie as he came in with his hands in his pockets. His head was held high, and he seemed to command an air of importance.

"Mr. Doers, I thought you would have been on a plane by now." I extended my hand towards him, but he did not take it. Instead, he looked around the Oval Office as if he were picking out something he wanted to take with him.

He ran his hand over the blue vase and then checked for dust. "How are you liking your office, Mr. President?" he asked as he moved to the couches and took a seat. Undoing his jacket button, he crossed his legs and faced me.

"It's growing on me."

He nodded before he got back up. "Well, it was nice speaking with you."

"Wait, you came all this way to ask me how I'm liking the Oval Office?" Of all the things we should have been discussing right about now, that had to have been the lowest on the list.

He paused. "No. I simply wanted to see the monkey dressed in a suit who thought he could give me orders."

"Excuse me?" He had crossed the line. "It's time you fell in line—"

"Or what? You'll call your sugar-daddies on me?" he snickered. "This house, hell this damn country, may be under the impression that you run things, but we both know that you are not even capable of thinking for yourself. You aren't going to fire me, and not because you do not want to give into terrorists but because you've been ordered not to. You are a monkey in suit who does not deserve this office and the trust of the people who serve you. I have dedicated my life to ensuring that the filth remains on the street and out of this house, out of this government, yet here you are, swimming in it and stinking up the place. I'm going to destroy your people, and then you're going to fade away as the worst president in history. I only came here today to get the mental before-picture."

Enough. I'd had enough of these goddamn people talking to me as though I were a fucking child.

"I am the President of the goddamn country and you work for me, Director Doers. Whatever war you started with the Manobans needs to end. Kiss the damn ring and move on. People are dying—"

"I do not give a damn about the people," he said emotionlessly. "I care about order, about balance, about the damn republic. Jennie and Lisa Manoban are not gods. They are men, men who should not be able to have the world turning at their feet. Somehow these young, reckless, hubris children have gone from selling crack off the streets to having the President of the United States in their back pocket. You think I started a war? A war was going to come no matter what. The Manobans won't stop; they do not understand their place in the world, and the stronger they become, the more they forget that they too can bleed. A lesson I have just now started to impart on you."

It clicked in my mind so quickly that my face dropped in shock.

"You killed Marco Manoban."

Again, he looked unfazed. It was as though the man had no emotion within him at all. I was staring at a shell of a man...at a dark figure...at death.

"I'm restoring order, and I shall not stop until they are gone...down to that little half-cast child of theirs." Moving over to the vase again, he picked it up and allowed it shatter against the floor.

"By the way, you might want to ask them about what happened to your daughter," he said as he wiped his hands and turned to leave. He opened the door and there stood Jessica. She glanced up at him and immediately backed up out of his way.

"Get me in touch with Mina, now," I snapped at her.

She nodded already dialing.

It rang.

And rang.

And fucking rang.

It was all I could hear in the background of my mind as I tried to remember the last time I had spoken to her.