«Le visage d'un amant est un inconnu, précisément parce qu'il est investi de tant de soi. C'est un mystère, contenant, comme tous les mystères, la possibilité du tourment.»
«The face of a lover is an unknown, precisely because it is invested with so much of oneself. It is a mystery, containing, like all mysteries, the possibility of torment.»
~~~~~
New York. The city that never sleeps. The city of dreams, so poetic yet chaotic. The peaceful morning rises, the streets slowly jamming with pedestrians. Each individual had their own story, their own happiness, flaw, envy, heart, and perspective. How crazy we were, the same species, but so different. The tall burner, jogging across the streets on his green track shorts to the man standing on the crosswalk with his brown suitcase and black coat, talking aggressively on the phone. The homeless man crunched on the pile of journals in front of the florist store, shaking the few coins on his beaten aluminum goblet, begging for a dollar from the other passant. They ignored him, his hope to eat something today shattering.
"Amor, we're here."
The car stopped in front of a typical New York office building. My heartbeat sped up at every step inside. They beautifully decorated the reception with a blue and white tone; Mr. Davis had a taste. He didn't make us wait long and called us to his office. He was smiling a lot and joyfully greeted us.
"How are you guys doing?"
He asked while we sat down. His office was neat and comfortably decorated with a gray, modern theme. Not my ideal office for a lawyer, but it was okay.
"We're doing great," Julian responded, while all I could do was smile.
"I won't waste your time and get to the subject." He addressed me. "The hearing was two days ago, and you won't get a result until for a few weeks. However, I am certain everything went in our favor. You did great with the tape. The judge listened to it very clear. He heard you."
"That's good to hear." I scoffed.
"You should also know that Mark lied."
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"In the letter, he said he was ready to step down as your conservator. His presence in court argued that statement. He defended himself and why he should stay as your conservator."
"That's absurd." I almost yelled.
"He changed his mind," Julian spoke. "He realized if he let you go, it won't be good for him."
"We knew he would do this, so we strengthened our assertion. He labeled you as incompetent, but we had more proof for the judge that he was the one with incompetence. With those investigations and lawsuits, he is just digging his hole."
"What about the other investigations? What is going on?" I asked.
Mr. Davis's jaw clenched. He leaned forward and interlaced his fingers.
"Any information about the cases is confidential. I don't know about the cases."
Julian pulled his chair closer, copying his body movements, asserting his dominance.
"Lawyers are good liars, but I am from a business family, Davis. You're working with Harrington and Johnson. You know what's going on."
"It will stay confidential with us. I need to know what is going on. I have been in the dark for too long. I deserve it." I said.
He hesitated for a moment, thought about it for a few seconds, then sighed.
"Unfortunately, the case has become more complex and a federal matter."
"Explain."
"So far, we know Mark wired money to a source these past couple of years, but the source is difficult to track. There are no leads to where or who that money is going to."
"That's nonsense." I objected. "We all know that money is going to my mother!"
"Yes, it is a valid theory, but without evidence, they can make no arrest. If it is her, she is smart and covering her track too perfectly."
"What about Mark?" Julian wondered. "Can't he tell?"
"He won't. He refuses to talk about it. His lawyers are standing tough on the subject. Especially, that case is linked to the murder of your father, Xemina. It may not be two cases but one."
"Tell me more."
"It is for certain your father discovered everything. The money, who was sending it and receiving it."
"Mark. He knew Mark was wiring all the money to my mother." I straight forward said.
"Theoretically. We know Mark is the sender, but we don't know the receiver yet." He corrected me and I rolled my eyes.
"However, it gets weirder. Around the month, your father supposedly found out, "Mark" stopped sending money to the source. But another person from inside the company started sending money to the same source, and the detective is certain it was your father."
"WHAT?" Julian and I screamed at the same time. I jumped on my chair and my eyes went round. No cells in my brain wanted to believe a word he said. My dad wiring money to my mother illegally after he found she was cheating with his best friend and sucking his company? It made little sense at all. I refuse to believe that!
"It is unbelievable, we know. The detective thought it was a desperate move. He thought he could get his wife back and took her lover's place."
"Then what is the reason he is dead?" I muttered. Something wasn't right, and it made my blood boil. I never had the chance to grow up with my father, but I had enough time to know him, and this story wasn't right.
"I'm not done." Mr. Davis raised his finger. "Do you want some water?
I shook my head negatively.
"Good then, embrace yourself for this one." He cleared his throat. "They indeed performed an autopsy on your father."
"Wait, no, no." I stood up, exaggeratedly shaking my hands. "I heard my mother tell Mark she didn't want an autopsy to be performed! Then who the fuck allowed it?"
"You're right! Of course, she didn't want it, but in a case of suspicion of foul play, authorities can order an autopsy without the relative's consent."
"But why I didn't know?" I shouted.
"Because it was classified, and you were a child. The body was exhumed after three days, and an autopsy was performed until Mark and your mother paid thousands to millions to illegally shut down the investigation."
"What did they find?" Julian questioned him.
"What they found turned the case upside down. Your father did die from cardiac arrest, but it wasn't natural. It was caused by a lethal poison called cyanide. It leads to seizures, cardiac arrest, and death within minutes."
"Fuck." I whispered, my eyelids drooped. My limbs weakened and leaned on the door for support. I knew he was poisoned but hearing it just drained me. Profoundly, I wished it wasn't true.
"You need a second."
"Bébé." Julian got up and took me in his arms. "Sit."
"No, I'm fine." I wiped my tears. "I knew already. I'm fine. I just need to sit down." I limped my way to the chair with Julian's help. "Continue."
"They found cyanide in the glass, wine, and his stomach. The fingerprint they found didn't match your mother nor Mark."
"So there's a third accomplice?" I mumbled.
"That's not all. They found pure scopolamine in his kidney. If not the poison, He could have died from it."
"They found pure what?" Julian gasped.
"Pure scopolamine. There's a search for whoever might have given him that drug. Maybe he is the third accomplice."
"But my dad wasn't a drug addict!" I frowned.
"Oh, my fucking God." Julian ran his hand over his face. "Do you know how rare pure scopolamine intoxication is? Extremely!"
"Do you know something about that? Who could have been selling it?" Mr. Davis questioned him.
"Yeah, of course, I know about it. It's called Aliento del Diablo in Mexico. I knew the guy that control the drug market from Mexico to the US. He works under the El Chapo's cartel, C.D.S."
Should it even be surprise me he knew so much about drugs?
"Do you mind giving a tip, then?"
"Anonymously only. You know my records already. I can't afford to have another dance with the FBI."
FBI?
"Deal." Mr. Davis open his drawer and pulled out a paper and a pen. "You may talk freely."
"What do you know about scopolamine?" He began.
"I know little but, it's from a plant called burandanga, or the devil's breath. It's from Colombia. If it is truly a pure dose, it can take anyone's free will." Julian explained.
Take away your free will? What did that mean?
"What does taking away your free will mean?"
"With the right amount, it puts the person in a state where they act normal, but they will do anything the attacker asks them to. Strippers used it to rob men in the club."
"So you're a telling me, there's a drug out there that can take peoples' free will just like that?"
"One puff, that person would do anything. It's not a myth. I've seen it work."
"So you think my mom drugged him and made him send the money?" I massaged my temple.
"It makes sense." Julian shrugged.
"Where do you think she would get a drug like that?"
"She won't get it from a third party, definitely a high source. I'm guessing El Capitan."
"Tell me about this... El Capitan." asked Mr. Davis as he wrote little pieces of information.
"He was a hitman. He controlled the drug on the border. I assume if she wanted not to get caught back in 2016, she would have gotten the drug directly from Capitan. Any third-party vendors always get caught."
"If we can arrest this Capitan, it will help bring Catalina down." Mr. Davis wrote more information. "Do you know about his whereabouts?"
"Who? Capitan? Oh, he is dead."
"Oh, fucking shit!" I exclaimed.
"Since 2018, rivals shot him."
Every inch of hope drained in our face. Mr. Davis took a deep breath and rested his head in his palms.
"This is impossible how every door is closing in us." He grumbled.
"Not entirely." Julian disagreed. "Back in that time, even Capitan was a hitman; he would never do a job that risky. That night you said your father received a call, right?" He asked me.
"Yes, he received a call and, he had to go to meet someone at his office."
Whoever was in that office that night was not Capitan but someone he knew." Mr. Davis theorized. "Mark knows. He is the key to solving these cases."
"I doubt he will talk." I voiced. "He loves her, but she doesn't. Catalina is covering her traces. If he snitches, she will kill him."
"We will understand it." Mr. Davis cleared his desk. He placed the paper containing the new information in the same drawer. He opened another lower than the first and took out a yellow folder. "It's a matter of time before the truths always come out, and we will force Mark to step down."
He opened the folder in front of me. "This is Henry Wendell. You know him already."
The man in the picture was part of my memory. I remembered his face, his short gray hair perfectly combed, and his genuine smile. It had been so long I haven't seen him.
"I know him. He used to come to dinner with my father and Mark when I was six. He liked to buy me cupcakes whenever he came over. He sent me flowers when my dad passed. He did for two more years until he stopped."
"He was your father's partner. He left Royale's Inc. after he founded his own company. He was in a fatal car accident two years ago and has been recovering. He is ready to step back, and he wants to meet you. While you are being trained to be a CEO, He would like to run the company when Mark stepped down."
"Oh." Leaving the company to another man was a hesitating decision, although it was my ruling. I wasn't ready yet to run Royale Inc. It would take me years, but the thought of someone else who might have bad intentions of running an almost bankrupted company wasn't peaceful.
"I assure you, he is the best. Your father worked with him for a long time."
So did Mark.
"Okay. It is nice to know." I grinned.
"You will meet him another time, but for now, I want you out of New York. It is not safe for you. Catalina will do anything to win, even if that means eliminating her own daughter."
"I know." I gulped.
"I will request to double your security and Julian? Be careful, stay vigilant." He ordered him.
We left the building quickly. Julian had a few errands to run before we flew back to Toronto. My mind was wandering through the clouds while Julian was taking a nap. His head on my lap, he fell asleep quickly as I caressed his hair. This diet, no matter how healthy they convinced him it was, I still thought it wasn't normal. The controlled portion of food he had to eat per day was disturbing. He couldn't work out because he needed loose muscles. Basically, they were trying to scrawny him. They were stuffing him into that size 40. Although the show was in the winter, they wanted him to drop that weight quickly.
I couldn't keep playing a few of my intact memories of my father. It scared me how I wasn't breaking down. It was too much. How should I feel after knowing my mother roofed my dad, tricked him into sending more money to her? Why does she need all that money? Her brand was sinking, but wasn't it enough? It had been four years since she had been sucking the company's money dry. Where the hell was she investing that money? What was she hiding? How much could be your debts to waste millions? Royale's Inc. wasn't a simple company. It invested in technology and science. My dad was an early investor in Facebook Inc. and PayPal Inc. We were the only producer of extreme ultraviolet, or EUV, lithography machines, which are needed by semiconductor foundries and large chip makers to produce the most powerful chips in the world. There were so many achievements, I couldn't name them all. Now, tell me how the hell a 150 billion company was secretly going bankrupt?
Under my father, Mark was the COO for years. He stepped to be a CEO and fucked up that bad? Dragging a big company into the mud for four years, for the sake of what? Love? A woman you could never be with. A woman that remarried at least twice in your face after all the shit she put you through. They took my father away from me for what reason? That was the time I needed a father figure in my life. I could blame only them for how sour my life turned out. They did it to me. It was never my fault.
_______
The last announcements to get to our class echoed in the halls. I drifted in the hallway while turning, hitting two more students also drifting to class, almost felling, my hand already on the floor, but I picked up my feet and flew to the door. I stormed inside before the lady finished giving the countdown. I fucking hate countdowns. It was the school's funny way to fuck with us by giving us a countdown. When it reaches zero, every teacher should lock the doors. If you get caught in the hallways by the cameras, you get to pay a fee or ISS.
I looked around the classroom as I caught my breath. Every student was already in their seats, having conversations and agitated- no sign of a professor. You had to be shitting me. I Tokyo-drifted in those hallways, almost busted my ass and teeth for nothing? And they took my seat?
There was one seat left in the middle of a group of girls. Shit. I groaned and made my way to the table. Out of the five girls, I only knew Rebecca and Jennifer. The other three, I only knew their face. When Julian and I were great enemies, I was sure these girls were team Julian. Those bitches left a lot of nasty comments on my school page. Now that we were a couple, it divided this fan base into the ones that were still haters and waiting to steal my man from me and the purely fake ones. They only loved me because of him, or they were just pretending. You couldn't differentiate what a smile was from the heart.
Once they spotted me, they beckoned me to come seat down. Were they reserving this seat for me? That was...nice.
During the period, they were too friendly, and most were talking about us. They were scooping their nose into personal things. The small blonde in front of me asked me how good Julian's dick was because out of all the girls, she shot her shot but never had the chance to sleep with him.
Now, would I be wrong if I smacked her head with my laptop and banged it on the table until she was unconscious?
It was best to give them my fake smile and point at the board instead of answering. I was thinking of something else. Today was Julian's first session. Psychotherapy had different types, and he didn't know what kind of therapy was the best for him. Hopefully, he figured it out, and this time he stuck with long-term treatment.
It was a relief when the bell rang. I was free from these girls and for the day.
I texted Xavier and Agea about their whereabouts. They responded pretty quickly, and I took a turn to the main courtyard.
Fifty-seven degrees Fahrenheit in April was fairly joy-able. Students, including my friends, used that weather to bathe in the sun.
"Hey! Good morning!" I greeted them.
"Morning." Xavier yarned and stretched. He looked stunning today. I noticed he wore makeup to cover some of the colored spots on his face. He was slowly getting used to wearing false lashes, and he was absolutely gorgeous.
Agea was captivating, as always. Her blonde hair grew to her waist; They were healthy and voluminous. She spent the night curling around them, and this morning they had this nice wave effect.
Her makeup was simple and a doll with the pink, glossy lips and the understated pink outfit. You could tell she was obsessed with Paris Hilton.
"I am so tired of school, URGH!" Agea already complained.
"It's only a month left." I sat down in front of them.
"Still, that is more tiring. That month should have come quick already." She rests her cheek in her palm.
"I need a good massage." Xavier rolled his shoulders. "A deep one. I need to feel it in my bones."
"Where's Max?" I asked. "Isn't that's what boyfriends are for? Tell him to get some lavender oil, scented candles, lanolin, and some massage leaves. Bonus points, 99% chance you're gonna get railed."
"Hm Hm!" Agea agreed with me. "Like they break your back, they need to repair it. Make them work!"
"And clean the mess," I added.
"You know what?" Xavier pulled out his phone. "You're so right. I'm texting him." He clapped his long nails on the screen.
We chatted a little more. There was a food truck a few yards away. I couldn't wait for lunch, so we got tacos. As we finished paying, I turned around and met my boyfriend face to face.
"Why are you eating this?" Asked Julian with a disgusting face.
"We're hungry. Lunchtime in another three hours." I defended ourselves.
"Seriously, that?" He grabbed one taco and dissected it. He tasted the meat and immediately spat it out. "Not only the beef is not seasoned, but it's also not fucking cooked! Do you know what uncooked meat can do to you? Trichinosis! It tastes bitter and rancid because they re-fried it in oil that has been sitting inside of that truck for probably a month! And what kind of flour is that? It's too thick for a soft taco."
"Okay, we're sorry. We didn't know." Xavier smiled. "Are you offended by some tacos?"
Julian slowly turned to him. His jaw clenched, ready to inhale him. "Yes. That is not tacos; It's a disgrace! You don't eat in any of those food trucks but Churrasco Grill and Mama's Taste of the World. You heard?"
"Yes, Chef Ramsay." We jokingly responded.
Nothing was more funny yet terrifying than Chef Julian and Master De Elvero. Yes, we called him master when he tutored us. That was the only way to have a little joke slip.
"Come on, let's go get real healthy food." He threw away the remaining tacos in our hands.
As we get to the Roll Royce, we noticed a group of students was forming in the parking lot as a black car entered the gates.
"Who is that?" Xavier asked.
"I don't know. Let's get closer." Julian responded.
We get closer to the students. The crowd wasn't dense; we had a good view from a safe distance. The passenger door opened, and my heart dropped. My skin crawled, and bills piled in my stomach. I wanted to puke and run. I kept telling myself no fucking way. Who the fuck was messing with me, and why did he come back now?
"Oh my fucking God, Shawn?"
~~~~~
I hope y'all had a great new year and I wish you all the best for 2022 ❤︎❤︎❤︎