Moonlit Man (bxb)

Chapter 10 - Krondstat Industries

"Sebastian, what's on the agenda for today?" Mathew asked, while fiddling a pair of chrome cufflinks.

"You have a 9 a.m. consultation with the head of marketing, 10 a.m. meeting with the Correll family to finalize their acquisition of their company and then you have a free schedule, sir." The silver-haired man said with his British accent, as he stood, poised with his hands behind his back.

"Any word on the bid for the plot of land in the financial district?" Krondstat asked, while his tongue peaked out and touched the corner of his lips, attempting to clasp the lock on his cufflink.

"Mark Hoffman from Veneno International is not going lightly on that front," Sebastian approached him and in one swift motion, he took Mathew's wrist and elegantly locked the cufflinks into place. "He seems determined to buy it, despite the bid going well over the asking price."

"See if you can set a meeting with him. I need to see him face-to-face." He said, as he reached for his expresso, which was placed on the long slab of mahogany that made up the twelve-seater dining table.

"Very well, sir." Sebastian said, as he walked to the entrance of the house, grabbing his gloves and Mathew's grey topcoat. Mathew followed from behind, dressed in a dashing grey, slim fit suit and black brogues, accessorized with a gun-metal grey timepiece. Sebastian held the coat out in front of him as Mathew slipped his muscular arms into the sleeves. They made their way down the concrete slabs and into a black Range Rover. It elegantly moved off as the slow crunching sound of gravel could be heard.

Mathew's six-foot frame was comfortable in the rear white leather seats while he looked down at his phone, enjoying the soft sounds of Bach resonating through the cabin. A glint of curiosity flickered within him as his blue-green eyes skipped to the angled rearview mirror. He looked at the network of lines and wrinkles visible on one half of Sebastian's face.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes sir?" His brown eye glanced back at Mathew's through the corner of the rear-view mirror.

"Did anything come up on the background check?" A small flutter of apprehension was present in his otherwise confident voice.

"No sir. The boy seems to be on track for law school, one of the top performing students there..." The corners of Mathew's lips slightly raised as he was not surprised to hear that the young hazel-eyed boy seemed intellectually capable of anything. "But there is something sir..." His lips now parted, ready to hear more. "He has quite a tragic past. I found a police report dated almost fifteen years ago about a fatal domestic violence incident in his childhood home in Granbury, Texas."

"What happened?" Mathew enquired, intrigued to hear more.

"The responding officer, Officer Dean, reported firing three shots at the father. The mother was pronounced deceased at the scene. The cause of death was blunt force trauma to the skull and aerial asphyxiation. The culprit was the father, it seems – an abusive drunk."

"Anything else?" He asked, feigning an indifferent attitude.

"It seems that following the death of his parents at the age of six, he was relocated to several different foster homes around Texas over the years. This was primarily due to under-resourced homes, further domestic violence reports and families not taking well to his, 'quiet, distant attitude' as one report put it."

A tinge of disappointment and anger flickered within Mathew as he reflected on this discovery. He contemplated how such a talented soul, from a young age was left to the mercy of violence and the unpredictable nature of the system. He didn't have a home or a place where he belonged.