Triple Major

by Lana Hartley

  I’ve worked too damn hard for what I have.

  I’ve sealed all the necessary darkness in here, the violence, drug trafficking and prostitution rings, bribes and corruption, and power games that cling to Edison like mud to a pig.

  I only take his calls in here. But soon, no more of that. This is the last assignment I’ll complete. And not by my own hands, of course.

  Just because the conference room is for dealing with Edison, doesn’t mean we don’t get to enjoy ourselves in here. On the contrary, it helps me deal with him.

  I turn to the bar inset into the wall and pour us all another Scotch into thick, heavy crystal tumblers. The liquid oozes out of the bottle in a luxurious golden brown. I like my scotch to be twelve years old, one year for each inch of my cock. Call it personal humor, if you will.

  I set the glasses on the table for Titus and James, and we each take a sip, savoring the rich taste in silence before I speak.

  “Now, listen up,” I address them. They both sit up straight, ready for my orders. “You two are the only ones I can truly trust. Together, the three of us will make it, if you do exactly as I say.”

  I pause to let this sink in. They nod slowly. “This new mission. The kidnapping. That’s exactly what I was talking about. It’s why we want out. It’s brutal business, needless violence, and, above all, it’s a stupid way to make money or exert power over others. Our new operation will be smart, effective, and even more lucrative. Most of all, it will be successful.”

  “That’s why we’re fucking with you, man,” Titus says.

  He’s as sick of killing as I am.

  “It’s gonna be dangerous, but I have the perfect plan to seamlessly get rid of Edison and start the whole operation over. I know I can count on you guys.”

  “You can, brother,” James says. “You fucking know you can.”

  “Good. Now, we just need a little more patience until my operation is fully up and running. But then all of us will be out from under the control of fucking Edison Shaw.”

  Again, both of them nod emphatically.

  I’m still standing above them.

  Their eyes are glued on me.

  They’re following my every word.

  They trust my leadership.

  They’re all for leaving the clutches of Edison and his circles of organized crime. But they’re unable to pull off a stunt like this on their own. They need a true leader like me, with clear planning, resourcefulness, and also vision to set all this in motion and follow through.

  I’ve got what it takes.

  And I learned from the fucking master mobster—Edison himself.

  My guys, Titus and James, have never doubted me for a fucking second. But it’s been more of a chore to get the men loyal to Edison on my side. I’ve achieved it, of course. I achieve everything I set my mind to. But that doesn’t mean they don’t doubt now and then.

  We’re going up against a very dangerous man.

  Luckily, I’m the perfect man to show them the way.

  I’m not scared of a goddamn thing, especially the likes of Edison.

  There’s a reason I’m his right-hand man. I fear nothing. What he doesn’t know is that in creating me, he has actually created his worst fucking enemy.

  I will never show any sign of weakness regarding Shaw. Because there’s no weakness to be had. I’m a hardened criminal by now, and I’ve seen fucking everything.

  I’m ready for a new life.

  I take another swig of the scotch.

  “So, how are you going to deal with this kidnapping, boss?” asks Titus.

  “Here’s the thing,” I say, “I won’t. Not myself. This is a job not worth doing. I’ll have Edison’s guys take care of it.”

  “Good plan,” James says.

  “For one, I don’t want to dirty my hands for Edison Shaw a day longer. He can go fuck himself. I’m beyond petty crimes like this.”

  I’m pacing back and forth on my side of the table.

  “But for now, I’ll see to it that this kidnapping of that businessman’s daughter goes smoothly. Edison can’t suspect a thing from us. I know just the right crew for the job.”

  Since I’ve destroyed the speaker, I pull out another phone with a secure line and dial one of my lieutenants.

  “You need to take someone into custody for me,” I inform him.

  “Female, blonde, young. I’ll send you an encrypted message with a photo and location. She’s the daughter of this rich business guy. He’s holding a party at his estate in Beverly Hills. Be warned, that means lots of witnesses. But also, more difficulty for his security to control the situation. Use that to your advantage.”

  I look at Titus and James in their chairs. They’re soaking in my every word, wanting to learn the business just as I had to learn from Edison. This is how a true boss conducts himself. I’m leading by example, showing them where Edison was always wrong and where we’ll be better. We’ll succeed and overtake him.

  “Go in with force because there’ll be armed resistance, though I’d prefer a fast in-and-out approach. The target is the main priority, and you don’t harm her. I repeat, you do not harm the girl under any circumstances. Understood?”

  I nod as my man repeats the details of my instructions back to me.

  “Good. Once you’ve acquired the subject, get in touch, and I’ll send you a secure location for the handover. Now get going.”

  I hang up.

  I drain my scotch and put down the tumbler so hard that the sound rings out in the room.

  “That’s done. And soon, we’ll be done with Edison Shaw as well.”

  James and Titus exchange a look of relief. They stand, smoothing their suits, because they know what’s next.

  “From business to pleasure,” I say, leading the way out of the conference room.

  “I believe the girls are still waiting in the lounge, just as hot and bothered as we left them. Without attention, they’ll start turning to each other.”

  “You know how I get turned on by a little girl-on-girl action,” Titus says.

  “His cock is rock-hard just picturing it,” James says.

  Demonstrating my leadership and power certainly gave me a throbbing erection.

  Sienna

  Cocktails and laughter fill the air.

  Another party, another evening of glamor.

  I catch a full glass of champagne from a white-tailed waiter.

  Jazz floats through the crowd, catching in the velvet drapes hanging from the ceiling.

  My parents are wrapped around each other on the dance floor. An island of love in the center of the crowd of power and politics.

  I stand alone at the foot of the grand staircase, shimmering in gray and silver. An island alone in my shining life.

  I climb the stairs.

  My feet have traced this path my whole life.

  Jimmy Choos echoing on the hardwood, I leave the warmth of the party. Candles flicker as I pass, glinting off the diamond necklace my father gave me before the party.

  “You aren’t my little girl anymore, are you?” he whispered when he fastened it around my neck, the perfect accent to my silver and white form-fitting gown.

  He looked sad and proud at the same time.

  “I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy,” I hugged him and sent him off to his guests.

  I love my parents and I am so proud of his run for Senate, even if I am personally worried about the lack of privacy that will come with his win. I know Daddy’s doing a good thing for the sake of the nation.

  My father’s favorite jazz band is playing tonight. After the expected mingling, he and my mother are now enjoying the rest of the night—together.

  They will be dancing in each other’s arms long after the last guests go home.

  The music and the voices fade as I climb the long staircase.

  Shadows draw around me separating me from the joy and light below.

  I open the door to my old playroom. Now decked out as a ladies’ dre
ssing room, it was yet another reminder that I’m no longer the carefree child I once was.

  “Running away?” Layla, the coffee heiress is sitting on the ivory settee.

  She’s curled up comfortably, leaning on the blush velvet pillows.

  She sets an empty champagne glass down as I close the door.

  “Just for a little while, what about you? You disappeared after the waltz with that new actor,” I tease her.

  I’m happy Layla is here, but I was thinking about stretching out on that settee and enjoying some quiet.

  The night feels off, the sky outside the french doors too black.

  I can’t see the stars, and the moon is dark.

  “Stepped on my toes,” she laughs.

  I sit next to her, and she snatches the glass of champagne from my hands.

  She takes a long sip and hands it back. “Need me to cover for you for a bit?” she raises an eyebrow.

  “Just need to breathe, and a quick touch up. I’ll be down in a little while,” I answer.

  “Well you should hurry, there are many eligible bachelors out there looking to hook up with the soon to be senator’s daughter,” Layla moves to the vanity and checks her lipstick in the mirror.

  I lay back on the settee and let out a sigh.

  I’m tired of the Hollywood fuckboys vying for my attention.

  Their passion is more for my father’s position and money than for myself—well, that, and for my body.

  “I know no one has been good enough for you, Sienna, but don’t waste away in your tower,” Layla finishes her touch-up. “I’ll see you down there,” she closes the door behind her.

  The room is silent and still.

  I move to the vanity. Reaching for my La Mer powder, I think about what she said.

  I’ve been waiting. I could have any man in the world, so why do I wait to let my body do what it so desperately wants?

  I finish the champagne, and study my reflection. The diamonds at my throat catch the light and trace the curves at the top of my breasts.

  The glittering gown is my armor, I wear white and hold everyone but my family at arm's length.

  I dreamed of the perfect man here in this room, in this house, when I was a little girl; and I’ve been waiting for him ever since.

  CRASH!

  The french doors leading to the balcony shatter inward, together with a flash of light and a loud boom.

  My ears ring, and my eyes flare, like stepping into a dark room from the bright LA sun.

  I can make out black figures pouring into the room from the hall door.

  My voice tears from my throat in a scream.

  My heart slams in my chest.

  How did they get here?

  What do they want?

  A leather-clothed hand covers my mouth, I can smell sweat and gunpowder on the leather.

  A hard, hot body pulls me close.

  I struggle, kicking at the legs behind me, trying to hit the massive body holding me captive with my elbows.

  My fingers claw at the arm pinning me to the wall of sour sweat.

  A dark figure catches my frantic hands, and thick black tape is wrapped around my hands, binding them in front of me.

  The leather hand covering my mouth is replaced with a gag.

  I’m thrown over a shoulder like a piece of luggage. I struggle to keep my head up, to look around me.

  My vision is clearing, and men in black wearing ski masks surround me.

  I don’t know who they are, but I can guess what they want with me.

  “Out the front. This one isn’t about stealth, boss wants us to make a real statement,” the man carrying me growls to the others.

  I hear men moving around, the man standing behind the one carrying me. He pulls an uzi and grunts his readiness.

  What is happening?

  We’re heading down the stairs.

  My parents song is ending. I imagine them in the center of the floor, the guests surrounding them.

  I can hear clapping between my sobbing screams.

  Hot tears run down my face; I don’t know what’s going to happen.

  Who are these men?

  Who is their boss, and what does he want with me?

  I try to scream around the gag, I want to make noise, call security before we get to the dance floor, before anyone gets hurt.

  I’m jostled all the way down the long staircase.

  I can feel bruises blossoming on my hips where I hit the man’s shoulder again and again; I know if this is the worst injury I come out of this with, I’ll be lucky.

  We reach the bottom and the band stops. I can see the man behind me walking quickly and aiming his gun around the room.

  “Security,” my father’s voice, strained.

  I scream into my gag. I toss my head, trying to stop him.

  I want to scream help.

  I want to scream, ‘let them take me’.

  I want to be free.

  I want everyone to be safe.

  I won’t get what I want.

  The glittering guests draw back from the diamond of armed men quickly marching across the floor.

  Our private security force should be scattered around the dance floor, they will be drawing their handguns.

  Peashooters against the uzis the thugs are toting.

  A shot.

  The man carrying me staggers, and I see the bullet hole bloom in his calf.

  The man behind us steps up and catches me as he staggers. My feet touch the ground.

  The other three have opened fire.

  Crystal shatters, shards of wood and glass fly.

  Cultured voices scream in fear and agony.

  I kick and fight with the man holding my bound hands. I am loose. I run towards the center of the room.

  My father is crouched over my mother, shielding her from the debris.

  The guards around the room are emptying their clips towards the thugs.

  One of ours goes down.

  My father stands between my mother and the thugs. He opens his arms to me.

  I’m running for the safety of my father, my shoes ruined by the broken glass.

  The world shatters. The bullets that were hitting the walls and ceilings dance past me.

  I watch my father’s face crumple.

  His white shirt now bright red with blood. He falls to the ground.

  I fall barely a foot from him.

  He reaches his hand out to me, and my mother crawls to him.

  The light in his eyes is gone.

  The room falls away.

  All I can hear are her sobbing cries.

  Rough hands pick me up. I’m slung over another hard shoulder.

  The cold night grips me.

  I don’t know what’s happening.

  All I know is my father is dead, and I’ve been taken by his murderer.

  Nate

  I look down at my Rolex impatiently.

  I’m not a man to be kept waiting.

  The men I sent to kidnap the girl should be here soon.

  I don’t know what the fuck Edison wants with her, and I don’t care.

  I just want out.

  I’m standing in the warehouse where the guys are to bring the girl. It’s completely empty.

  No boxes. No supplies. Just clean cement floors with steel walls and pillars. Any small noise made would echo throughout the plain and sterile enclosure.

  This warehouse is used for many of Edison’s business transactions.

  It’s remote, and there’s no way anyone can intrude on what happens inside without being noticed; just how Edison likes it.

  It’s also one of the many reasons why he’s been so successful in this line of business. He has fucking foresight, though not enough to see me coming.

  One of the doors suddenly clanks open.

  A black SUV rolls into the warehouse towards me. The windows are so heavily tinted, they match the paint job on the SUV.

  It stops a few feet in front of me, and the dr
iver hops out to open one of the back doors.

  Another man gets out, then turns around to reach back into the vehicle.

  He pulls out a woman who starts yelling in panic.

  “Please, let me go,” she cries. “You have the wrong person.”

  Oh, I’m sure we have the right person, sweetheart.

  It’s just unfortunate that you got caught up in all of Edison’s crap. All because you’re related to a rival businessman.

  The girl kicks at the men trying to subdue her.

  Her long blonde hair whips around her in her vain attempts to free herself from the hell she’s suddenly found herself in.

  One of the men gets whipped in the face by her hair as she violently thrashes around, and I can clearly see his frustration rise to another level with the girl.

  He looks as if he wants to hit her, but is holding back. His instructions were clear—no damage was to come to the girl.

  I look more closely at her.

  She’s a stunner.

  The glittery white and silver dress she’s in hugs her in all the right places. It’s holding every exquisite curve to highlight her slim and sexy figure.

  Her feet are adorned in shimmering high heels. Most definitely Jimmy Choo. You don’t go through the business I’m involved in without noticing all the fancy shit the mob boss wives wear.

  Especially when they’re flashing it all in your face trying to impress you.

  She’s still kicking and screaming.

  I notice now that she’s also crying. Tears are streaming down her cheeks in full force.

  I haven’t gotten a clear look at her face, since she’s thrashing around so much, and her hair has been whipping around too much to show off her features.

  Finally though, she seems to lose momentum and stops to catch a breath.

  She glances around the warehouse, likely looking for an escape.

  Sadly, she won’t find what she’s looking for.

  My whole body suddenly turns to stone.

  There’s something familiar about her. Something cherished that I’d never forgotten but kept at the back of my mind.

  Suddenly, I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

  It can’t be her. Can it?

  Her features are similar to the girl I once knew in my childhood, just more mature now.

  The longer I stare at her, the surer I am that it is definitely her.

  Sienna Rose.