Annihilate Them

by Christina Ross

  “You might,” he said.

  Epifania genuflected before she batted her lashes at Alex and me. “I’m glad I bring all of you together, because every one of you is special to me. Now I hang out with Rudsy for a bit. You know, for old time sake. Judging by the look in his eye, he going to whisper things to me that are going to make me question everything I thought I knew, but I’ll handle that as it comes. Is it OK if I see you later?”

  “Actually, I’m going to encourage you to do just that, Epifania,” I said.

  “Why you going to do that?”

  “Because I think it’s pretty clear to Alex and me that this is where you belong for the rest of the night.”

  “What you mean?”

  “Chemistry,” I said.

  “You think Rudsy and I have chemistry?”

  “Rudman, I don’t mean to embarrass you, but I think it’s kind of off the charts.”

  “There’s no embarrassment here, Jennifer. Because I think that you’re right. In fact, I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Now I have the goosies,” Epifania said.

  “You should have them. Now, have a fun night.”

  “Thank you, Rudman,” Alex said. “Jennifer and I will be in touch at the top of the week. It was great reconnecting with you.”

  “The pleasure was mine, Alex,” he said as Epifania poked her finger against his chest.

  “You’re as firm as ever,” she said.

  “You don’t even know how firm I am right now,” he said as he put his arm around her waist.

  And with that, Alex and I were off.

  “DO YOU HAVE HER EXACT address?” Alex asked as he took me by the arm and pulled me next to him, and we stepped into the crowd. “I know that the loose cannon of Park Avenue obviously lives on Park Avenue, but where do we send the several dozen bouquets of roses we need to send her?”

  “I’ve totally got her address at home.”

  “She was amazing back there.”

  “You think? My God, she was another person—well, to a point. She was still Epifania, but a more refined, tamped down version of Epifania. All I know is that I’m completely confused by what I just saw. Anyway, how about her takedown of Immaculata? It was just as subtle as it was epic. I saw sides of Epifania tonight that suggests she’s far more complicated than I ever realized.”

  “And then there was your own takedown of Immaculata.”

  “That was nothing compared to Epifania’s.”

  “Something tells me that Immaculata is going to be in the cups tonight,” Alex said. “As for Epifania, I think that she might be warming someone’s sheets.”

  “Their chemistry was insane. Did you feel it?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I wonder why they stopped seeing one another?”

  “Cross mentioned his divorce, which could have been a factor. But he’s obviously in a far better space now. Hell, he even apologized to me. And good for him for feeling better—and maybe even good for Epifania. Because I agree—something special coursed between those two a moment ago. He obviously thinks a lot of her. That came through like fireworks, as did a sense of regret about breaking off whatever they’d once had.”

  “Tonight, I learned that there are two sides to Epifania. I always knew that she was bright, but look at how she just handled Immaculata. And look at how she smoothly got us in with Cross. Neither was by accident—she crafted that. There’s more behind that woman’s curtain than she’s ever shown me. And I want to see more.”

  “Just remember what she said to us,” he said. “She shows us the real Epifania. I think we just saw what she showed to Charles—and to Cross—when they first met. I prefer the real thing, and I have a feeling that when she shows more of herself to Cross? He’s going to like her even more.”

  “I agree.”

  “Now, look—I’ve spotted several board members here tonight. We should go over and say hello to them before we leave.”

  “Who have you seen?”

  “Pretty much everyone. Diana Crane is over there. Mike Fine is just a few feet away from her at the bar.”

  “I’m not a fan of either of them,” I said. “Not after what happened with Stephen Rowe. When it came to ousting you from Wenn—your own company, for God’s sake—they were the first to take Rowe’s side over yours. And they chose to vote against you until it was revealed that he was a special kind of rat. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive them for that.”

  He held me closer to him and said in my ear, “Here’s what matters: Eventually, they came around and voted against him when Jones went public with their affair.”

  “At that point, what choice did they have? They aren’t loyal to you, Alex.”

  “Maybe not, but they are bright—and they do know how to lead—and that’s why they’re on the board. That said, we do have options when it comes to whom we talk with tonight, because Jonathan Rubinstein is just over there with Tom Brown and their wives.”

  “Now, those two I love,” I said. “Talk about a more welcoming crowd, as well as more supportive board members.”

  “I do think we should say hello to all of them,” he said. “If only for political reasons. After that, the party will be winding down. People will be leaving. When that starts to happen, I’ll text Tank, and we can go home and, you know, maybe have a bit of fun.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “And you look hot.”

  “Then let’s speed this shit up,” I said. “Because with Cross, we got lucky. We accomplished what we set out to accomplish tonight. In the next week or so, we’ll officially meet with him, so I say ‘score.’ And besides, now that that’s behind us, I’d rather be home alone with you, anyway.”

  He kissed me on the neck, which sent shivers through me.

  “Would you now?”

  “You know I would.”

  “Then let’s get through the rest of the night so we can get the hell out of here.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  AS THE EVENING CONTINUED, throughout it all, just as Tootie had predicted, we were hammered with questions about Meredith Rowe’s death, which stymied me. What did these people think Alex or I could possibly offer them when it came to the circumstances surrounding her death? Answers? This soon? Or were they just fishing for our reactions because of her former marriage to Stephen and his prior connection to Wenn? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care, but I smiled my way through it as best I could.

  “On a sidewalk,” Diana Crane said to me a few moments after Alex and I approached her. “Of all places...”

  “That tends to be where most people get mugged, Diana,” I said. “You know, out in the open. On a sidewalk. Not at Bergdorf’s.”

  When I said that, Diana raised her eyebrows and studied me for a moment. She was a severe-looking woman somewhere in her late forties, with dark hair that came just to her shoulders. She was wearing a red evening gown, carrying a red clutch, and wearing no jewelry.

  “I understand that, Jennifer,” she said. “But let’s just set the record straight. Weren’t you once attacked in a dressing room at Saks?”

  Shit...

  “In fact I was.”

  “So, you see, it can happen anywhere. Anyway, I’m still stunned by what happened to Meredith.”

  “I also think it’s terrible what happened to her,” I said. “But what stuns me is that she apparently chose to walk alone to her destination at night. Meredith must have a driver. Why would she choose to walk in the dark alone? It seems foolish to me.”

  Diana cocked her head at me. “Well, that’s cold.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. I’m just asking a question.”

  “She died a violent death just yesterday,” Diana said. “Sorry, Jennifer, but calling her foolish so soon is rather startling to me.”

  You know what still startles me when it comes to you, Diana? Your failing to initially back my husband, the man who brought you onto his board. Your failing to give him the support he deserved when he needed it
most. Your refusing to trust his word over Stephen Rowe’s. That’s what I find startling—and unforgivable.

  “Please don’t try to manufacture an uncomfortable moment between us, Diana,” I said. “It’s unnecessary. I’m just saying out loud the very question that so many others have been thinking.”

  “So, now you’re a mind reader?” Diana asked.

  “No, I’m just direct.”

  “And honest,” Alex said. “Which are just two of the reasons I married Jennifer, Diana.”

  “I see,” she said, backing down, likely due to the edge in Alex’s voice. “Well, of course. You probably need that in your life, Alex. No one blowing smoke up your ass, and all that. Someone who will tell it like it is.”

  “Don’t we all need that?” he asked.

  “I—well.” She laughed. “I guess I’m rather used to the smoke...”

  “Then I’m sorry for you. Not many people are as straight with me as my wife is. And trust me when I say this—I rely on it.”

  “As well you should.”

  He put his arm around my waist. “Anyway, Diana, good to see you.” He turned to the others in the group—Mike Fine, Tom Brown, Jonathan Rubenstein—with whom we’d already spoken, and wished them a good evening, as I did.

  “I think the party is over,” I said to the group. “The orchestra has stopped, and people are leaving.”

  “Another party down,” Diana said. “I hope that you and Alex were able to put it to good use.”

  “In fact we did,” I said as Alex texted Tank. “In a potentially major way.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Think SlimPhone—and think big. As in worldwide.”

  “How mysterious of you, Jennifer. But since you do hail from Maine, I suppose you know how to properly bait a hook...”

  “You should see how well I can pierce a worm, Diana,” I said as Alex put his arm on mine. “Right through its heart.”

  “We should go,” Alex said.

  “People are leaving en masse,” Tom Brown said. “Great to see you two out tonight.”

  “We feel the same, Tom. It’s always good to see you, Jonathan, Diana, and Mike. Until the next board meeting, then.”

  “When we’ll learn what you and Jennifer have been up to tonight?” Diana asked.

  “Among other things. Shall we leave together everyone?”

  “Oh, why not?” Diana said. “Might as well.”

  I felt Alex grasp my hand before I could bite her fucking head off.

  “THAT WOMAN IS IMPOSSIBLE,” I said in his ear as we followed behind her and the other members of Wenn’s board. “What a bitch.”

  “She is who she is,” Alex said. “But it was fun watching you spar with her. She deserved it.” He lowered his voice a notch. “You know,” he said as he dipped his lips to my ears. “Whenever I see you stand up to someone like Diana, it makes me horny...”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is. In fact, there’s a reason I’m walking behind you. You’re helping to shield the bulge in my pants.”

  “Oh, my word, shush,” I said, failing to suppress a smile. “Someone might hear you.”

  “Imagine my mouth between your legs right now,” he said in my ear.

  “Stop.”

  “Imagine my tongue inside of you. My stubble brushing against your clit.”

  As we moved down the staircase that led to the front door, it was so crowded with people bumping and nudging into one another that I knew with certainly that someone close to us must be hearing what he was saying to me.

  “You’ve got to stop,” I said. “If you do, I’ll give you anything you want when we return home.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything. Now, come on. Keep it together. The door is just there—Diana and the rest of them just walked through it. Tank should be waiting for us outside. He’ll take us home and then we can go all night if you want.”

  He grabbed my ass when I said that, and then someone bumped hard against my arm just as we stepped out onto the sidewalk, causing my clutch to fall from my hand. I heard someone say, “Sorry, Jennifer, that was my fault”—and as Alex and I each bent down to retrieve it, a hail of gunfire blazed across the street.

  Incredulous, I saw people being gunned down in front of us before Alex tackled me and tossed his body over mine. “Stay down!” he said. “Don’t move!”

  “What’s happening?” I cried out in fear as the staccato rhythm of gunshots grew closer. “People are being murdered!”

  Through a fold in my outstretched arm, I was able to look out at the chaos unfolding before us as heads exploded, torsos erupted in rushes of blood, and bodies swayed from left to right before crumpling over and onto the sidewalk or into the street.

  As the night air became a thunderstorm of gunfire, car alarms started to scream as head- and taillights began to flash. I saw Diana Crane’s head blow off her shoulders. I saw Mike Fine reach out to her in horror just as a torrent of bullets tore through his chest and blew out his back in ways that lifted up his jacket as if a sudden wind had caught it. And then I watched him fall face-first onto the concrete—dead—as others continued to collapse in front of me.

  Alex held me tighter against him.

  “Whatever happens, I love you, Jennifer.”

  “We’re going to get through this,” I said. “But I love you too, Alex. I love you so much.”

  After another burst of gunfire, something changed—I heard several gunshots go off to my right. Gunshots that came from someone else. At that moment, I heard a woman scream. Car doors opened and slammed shut just as a car’s engine roared to life. I heard the screeching of tires as a car roared away. And then, pandemonium struck.

  “They’ve gotten away!” someone shouted.

  “Somebody call 911!”

  “What the fuck do you think we’re doing?”

  “Are you all right?” Alex said.

  How could I answer that—I was shocked. Terrified. “I haven’t been shot,” I said. “Tell me you weren’t either.”

  “I’m good,” he said. “Physically.”

  I touched his face. “Thank God you’re alive.”

  And with that, we lifted our heads and looked out at the holocaust that stretched before us.

  “Donald is dying!” a woman cried out. “He’s not moving. He’s been shot in the neck. Somebody help me before it’s too late! Please!”

  “This was a terrorist attack!” a man said.

  “It’s because we’re rich!” I heard a woman say. “They hate us because we’re rich! They always have! They always will!”

  “Diana,” I said to Alex. “She was shot in the head—I saw it happen. When Mike tried to help her, he also was shot down. They’re right there, Alex. They’re right in front of us. I could touch Diana’s shoe if I wanted to. Both of them are dead. What in the hell just happened? So many have been killed...”

  “I don’t know what happened, but we need to help those who are still alive,” he said. “Whoever did this is gone.”

  “You don’t know that for certain,” I said. “Stay down. This is no time for you to be a hero. Stay down until we’re certain that this is over, because there is no way in hell that I’m about to lose you.”

  “We’ve got to help them, Jennifer,” he said.

  Above the roar of the car alarms, I heard the wail of police sirens closing the distance between us, which gave me a sense of relief. And then came a voice I knew so well, and I felt a crashing sense of gratitude come over me when I recognized it.

  “This is Mitch McCollister,” Tank shouted out so he could be heard above the car alarms. “Former Navy SEAL! I work for Alex and Jennifer Wenn! The people who did this are gone! Help is on the way! If there is anyone here who needs immediate medical assistance, call out to me now before it’s too late!”

  “Let’s go,” Alex said. “We can help Tank. We can help these other people.”

  Madness bloomed as we stood up. Everyone who had b
een standing behind us in the entryway to the Witherhouses’ mansion started to rush out as quickly as they could. They’d heard Tank’s voice—and because of what he’d said, they were hungry to flee from the scene.

  Almost at once, someone hurrying past me accidentally shoved me down on top of a man’s lifeless body. I felt my left cheek slide across his blood-smeared chest, but I willed myself to be strong. To keep it together. To get out of this alive with my husband and Tank in check.

  Alex hunched down behind me in an effort to protect me as society took flight from the building. In horror, we watched them pick their way through the dozens of dying or dead that were either lying on the sidewalk or in the street—and then they started to flee toward the police cars roaring down Sixty-Seventh Street.

  “Tank is in the middle of the street trying to assess the situation,” I said to Alex. “He’s still holding his gun. If the police think he’s responsible for this, they’ll kill him!”

  “Then get up,” Alex said. “Hurry! We need to get in front of him before the police get out of their cars!”

  As Alex pulled me to my feet, what I saw in front of me was unprecedented. At least twenty people were dead, and many others were wounded.

  Tank whirled around as we rushed toward him. Alex smashed the gun out of his hand just as the police cars stopped in front of us, and then, in unison, all of us held up our hands as the police got our of their cars.

  “Don’t shoot!” Alex said. “I’m Alexander Wenn of Wenn Enterprises. This is my wife, Jennifer Wenn, and my head of security, Mitch McCollister. We’ve just been through what I believe is a terrorist attack. Dozens are either dead or wounded behind us. There’s no time to waste on us. Mitch is a trained Navy SEAL. It’s because of him that the people who did this are gone—he fired his gun at them. I heard a woman scream when he did that, and then a car took off. The woman and whoever was with her in that car did this, not us.”

  The flashing lights and headlights from the police cars were so bright, I couldn’t see anything. But I could feel my heart slamming against my chest. And I could feel that poor man’s blood drying against my cheek.