"Don't become the very thing that they said you were!" She screamed, her eyes wild and hair whipping across her face, through the harsh blaze of the fire that surrounded the both of us. She was trying to help. She was trying to save me, but I was fa...
When I wasn't busy leading my exciting life as a master criminal I lead a rather normal life. By normal I mean boring. I worked a regular nine to five job as an executive assistant for Bason & Co, a big oil company in Spektris. It's founder and ceo was Charles Bason until he passed away last summer and his son, Adam Bason, inherited the company. Oh what can I say about Adam Bason? He is one of the richest men in the country under the age of thirty, has a wife, three children, and he's pretty attractive. Standing at a broad height of 5'11, sparking green eyes, ebony complexion, and killer smile he could have anybody he wanted and did he ever. Yes, he has multiple affairs with girls right out of highschool and his youngest child is actually to another woman whom he had a casual one night stand with. Of course, he doesn't claim Susie, age five, as his own and even went as far as putting a restraining order against her mother, Rebecca.
Not only does he no sense of moral right and wrong, but he's actually quite corrupt as well. Bason & Co isn't just an oil company anymore, it's a halfway house to launder drugs in and out of Spektris. He has multiple onshore and offshore accounts to hide his drug money from the police. But guess who robbed the onshore account that held most of money last night? That's right, me. Adam was an advent member of Wheler's Bank, holding about 3.5 million dollars there. When Charles was head of the company I had no intention to drain him dry, he was an honest man, but then I caught wind of what Adam was up to.
I needed to learn the inner workings of the company and gain access from the inside, hence why I would take this treacherous job. He doesn't even offer dental! If that doesn't make him a target than I don't know what does. So everyday for the last six months I endured the nasty men and snotty women and did the job I skillfully planned. I kept myself on a low profile and from there tried to find a way in. That's when I came across the bank statements and when the perfect opportunity presented itself I swooped in. I wouldn't do all that work just for one pizza.
Monday morning I expected there to be a lot of chaos, but this was something all together. People were running around, papers weren't being shredded, and the copy manchines definitely weren't on fire. No, it was calm; it was like it was any other day. That really pissed me off. Before the plan was to blackmail Bason with the promise of his money and the information I gathered about the company to get even more money annually, but it doesn't seem like it was going to work that way. Wasn't he worried about his money? Well, I wondered what else he didn't care about. Time for Plan B.
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So maybe I didn't have a Plan B persay. Okay, I really didn't even have a backup plan at all because I didn't anticipate that Adam Bason was going to be so calm on losing that much money. He may be a wealthy man come on 3.5 million dollars was sure to put a dent in his finances. I'll admit I was at a complete and utter lost on what to do next and I needed to do something. I most certainly didn't waste the last six months for nothing. Rozetta Evans doesn't do anything without an end goal.
That all leads us to why I'm currently standing in Bason Manor with a gun pointed at Martha Bason's head with her two children locked in a broom closet. I wasn't completely insane. "How about we call that handsome husband of yours?" I suggested pressing the barrel of gun harder against her temple. Well, I guess that escalated kind of quickly. Pressing her lips together in a pathetic excuse to hold back sobs, because I mean that really wasn't doing shit, she violently shook her head. Humming a tune I couldn't remember I scrolled through Martha's contacts until I landed on Adam's name. Aww how cute, there were little heart emojis by his name.
The phone rang as Martha began now to cry uncontrollably. Mrs. Bason is not a pretty crier let me tell you that much. "Can you be quiet?" I asked with irritation lacing my tone, " I am trying to make a phone call." Suddenly, the line picked up and Adam's voice filled in the phone, "Hello, sweetpea."
"Sorry, sugar, but this isn't Martha." I chuckled in fake amusement. And just like that I could almost feel the anger seep through the phone. His voice got deeper and more stern, almost like he was going to scold one of his children. "Who is this?"
"Who am I?" I paused, just for that dramatic effect, before answering in a cold stone voice, "Well, I'm the girl that has a gun pointed at your wife's head." Just to prove my point in how serious I actually was I clicked off the safety and cocked the gun.
Of course Martha screamed bloody murder. "Has anyone ever told you how much of a loud mouth your wife is?" I asked not expecting an answer because in the next second I smacked Martha Bason in the back of the head with the butt of the gun; knocking her unconscious. Thank god, she's finally quite. "What did you do to her?!" Adam exclaimed, voice filled with rage.
"I just knocked her unconscious," I replied impassively, "No big deal."
"What do you want? Money? Because I can give you all in money you want just name a price."
"Oh Mr. Bason." I laughed, "What I want is much more satisfying than money." I ran the gun down Martha's cheek and pressed it under her chin, my finger hovering over the trigger. "Think of this as public justice." Pop!
