Olivetti: Illumination

by Tamilore Odimayo

  Dean rushed to Tom. “Tom! You okay?”

  Tom panted furiously. “Yes! Yes. I need the keys to a car. If I don’t leave in sixty seconds, I’ll miss him!” he said as he got out of his trance.

  “Miss who?” Dean said as he tossed a set of keys to a car.

  “The killer. Watch my family. Make sure they’re safe,” He replied as he ran out of the building.

  He struggled to open his eyes. His head felt heavy. Like two chemical explosions occurred in his brain. The last thing he remembered was a maniac in a Bugatti ramming him over a cliff as he was driving away from an explosion that occurred at the Olivetti mansion. He spat out what tasted like salty saliva. But it wasn’t. It was blood.

  He finally opened his eyes. He was in a well-lit empty room that smelt like saw dust. He realized he was still wearing the same clothes he wore to the party at the Olivetti mansion. Some blood, his blood, was on his shirt. He was instantly scared. He had no idea how or when he got into the room. It was daylight, so he assumed that he had been there overnight. “This must be the job of Julio Sanchez. I killed the Olivetti brothers. Now, he wants to destroy the only evidence—me.”

  He gazed at the blue door and dashed towards it without thinking twice. It was locked. It looked around the room in a state of frenzy to find anything to help him escape, but there was nothing. He looked outside the window protected with metal bars. Nothing outside was familiar. Just trees. Lots and lots of trees.

  “Damn you! Sanchez!” he said to himself. Click. The blue door unlocked. A man dressed in a dirty black tuxedo walked in. He was tall, built, but unfamiliar. His face was cold and dead. His eyes were dark. He looked like he had been up all night.

  “My name is Thomas…Tom Olivetti,” Tom said. The man’s eyes were wide, a mixture of fear and surprise.

  “How did you find me?” the man said. The man gazed at Tom then gazed at the open door. He tried to calculate how fast he could run out without being caught. However, the thought of what might be waiting for him, outside the door, scared him. He was one of the best assassins in the mob world. It was impossible for an untrained civilian to capture him without any help from other members of his family.

  The man bolted through the door. He was startled. He found himself in another identical room with the same door. He looked back at Tom in the other room.

  “Where – where am I?”

  Tom said nothing. The man ran to another door, still in a state of frenzy. The door didn’t open. He struggled, but all was to no avail. He looked back again at Tom who was now standing in his room. His face was calm. He looked like he was daydreaming or in a trance. “Torture me all you want, I’ll not tell you anything,” the man said.

  “I have all the information I need, Mister Chavez.” He was surprised. No one knew him as Chavez. Not even the Mexican government. His was currently under a ‘Jackson’ Alias. All his life, he had operated under false identities that protected him during the Mexican drug war.

  “How…how did you know my name?”

  “Wrong question,” Tom replied as he paced around the room. The sound of each footstep was taunting. Chavez was confused.

  “What do you mean wrong question?”

  “Well, if I know your real name, then I should know a lot of other things about you. Right?”

  Chavez was still confused. “Like?”

  “Your unborn child and your wife. They live in a secluded place in Nebraska. They are the only family of yours that exists,” Tom replied. Chavez was instantly angry. He charged towards Tom with a full fist. It all happened fast. Too fast to know what was going on. He was on his back with Tom’s hands pressing against his neck. He had never seen such speed in his life.

  “W-What the fuck is going on?” Chavez struggled to say. Tom withdrew his hand from Chavez’s throat then walked to a corner in the room. He observed Chavez’s fear. Chavez managed to sit up. He leaned his back against the wall, afraid to get up and afraid to talk.

  “P-please. Don’t hurt my wife,” Chavez said. The room was quiet. Chavez gazed at Tom who seemed to be less occupied with what was happening in the room. He looked like he was back in a trance. Chavez weighed his options. Was Tom alone? How did he find me so fast?

  Tom cleared his throat. “I’m alone. There’s no one here besides me and you,”

  “What!? Are you reading my mind?”

  “Yes! I can see everything clearly now; your childhood and being raised without a father figure. Your mother died at an early age and you were forced to take care of yourself. You joined a gang at eleven and so on and so forth. The story goes on,” Tom replied articulately. Chavez was now quiet. He could feel the fear running through his bone marrow.

  “See, on normal circumstances, I would have let you go. I mean, it wasn’t your fault that you ended up becoming an international assassin. But, there’s a big ‘but’,” Tom said dramatically.

  “If I let you go, you will kill again. I see it. There’s absolutely no probability that you will not kill again if I let you go because you’re addicted to the thrill. You’re addicted to knowing you can’t be caught…no more,” Tom added.

  Chavez began to weep. He had never been so afraid in his life. He wasn’t afraid to die. His fear was driven towards Tom’s presence. There was something about this man that made him instantly crave death.

  “It’s in your nature to kill and if I let you go, somewhere along the line, you will come back for my family.” Tom said as he turned his back away from Chavez.

  Suddenly, Chavez felt compelled to seize the opportunity to defend himself again. He got up briskly and charged towards Tom in an attempt to get the key and flee. He threw the first punch but suddenly, Tom wasn’t there anymore. He turned around. Tom was behind him. He threw the second punch, then a kick. But Tom wasn’t anywhere near him anymore. He looked around the room. Tom was in a corner standing calmly. He was afraid, but realized he couldn’t give up. He ran towards Tom with a full fist. This time around, Tom didn’t move. He hit Tom on his face. Tom didn’t flinch. He did it again and again. Tom remained standing, unperturbed by the distraught assassin.

  “What!” Chavez said in a state of confusion. He decided to kick Tom, but soon found himself flying across the room. His back slammed against the wall. Chavez moaned in pain.

  “What the hell are you?” Chavez asked. “El diablo,” Chavez whispered to himself.

  “I’m not the devil. I’m just someone who will make the next ten minutes of your life a living hell,” Tom replied.

  Chavez suddenly blacked out.

  Two days later. Tom walked into the conference room where other members of the family were waiting. Everyone was quiet. His long ride on the elevator reminded him of what he had done to Chavez days earlier. All eyes followed him as he found a seat to sit on.

  Don Daniel Olivetti’s lawyer, Patrick O’Donnell, a Caucasian male with blonde hair and a bald patch in the middle, stood up as soon as Tom walked in. His oversized beige suit didn’t do justice to his robust figure. Tom glanced at everyone in the room. His father wasn’t present. He was in the hospital with minor injuries. His uncle, Sebastian Olivetti, the only one who was luckily not present at the party, was seated at the other end of the table. His cousins, the males, sat at various ends of the table. Besides Don Olivetti’s children and wife, no female member of the extended family was present.

  Patrick O’Donnell cleared his throat as everyone shifted their gaze from Tom to Patrick.

  “Daniel. I- I mean, Don Olivetti, asked me to read his Will as soon as he was confirmed dead. It’s not presumptuous to say that he knew this day would come. You all know that it was impossible to schedule this meeting earlier due to the intense police investigation and media coverage.” He sighed as he looked at everyone.

  “He asked me to video tape his Will of Testament so no one will doubt what he wants. It’s short and quick,” Patrick added. No one said anything. Patrick O’Donnell walked to the conference room’s DVD player, inserted a DVD th
en pushed play.

  Soon, the video projector was on. They watched as Don Daniel Olivetti sat down in front a camera. Tom could hear his cousin, Ann, crying. He could also hear Don Olivetti’s wife crying furiously.

  “If you are watching this, I’m probably dead. Well, not probably, definitely dead,” Don Olivetti’s voice in the video began. Sebastian fought back tears with anger. Even when talking about death, his brother still managed to add a little bit of humor.

  “So I’ll go straight to the point. To my wife and children, I leave you all the vacation homes I own around the country. A trust fund will be available to you in the sum of a billion dollars to help you through college and through life. To my brothers, whoever is still alive, at the point of this video, I give you all my cars or rather, our father’s cars. You will also be entitled to his boats in Millan and a billion dollars each will be available to whoever is alive, at the point of this video. It’s not much, but at least, you still get to control your own businesses. Plus you get to share it amongst your children.”

  Finally, in regards to who takes over as CEO and Patriarch of the family…”

  Everyone held their breath. It was the moment they’d been waiting for. Everything else was redundant. Will the next Don help the family through the crises? Will the next Don bring peace? Will the next Don avenge the multiple deaths?

  All mob families in the United States were banking on who becomes the next Olivetti patriarch. There were three possible options. Don Olivetti’s first son, Daniel Olivetti junior—a man just like his father, Walter Olivetti—CFO of Olivetti Corporation and Sebastian Olivetti who was Don Olivetti’s right hand man. All three were experienced. Sebastian was the assumed leader. He was a ruthless mobster without regard for emotions. He had strength and character. However, he didn’t have a brain for business, investments and running a company. Walter was the exact opposite. His experience as CFO made him the likely candidate for CEO. However, no one ruled out Daniel Olivetti junior. He wasn’t experienced in both areas, but it wouldn’t have surprised anyone if he was made the heir to the Olivetti throne.

  “…finally. I – I would like to say I thought through this carefully before deciding. I am absolutely positive, without a doubt that the person I choose will carry on the duties as Don and CEO effectively. I have vetted this person and I hope he will be accepted without conflict…” Don Olivetti said sternly in the video. The tension in the room increased. Everyone stared at each other uncomfortably. Walter breathed heavily and could be heard through the phone.

  “…It will be in your best interest to accept him because he alone can bring us out of this dilemma we find ourselves in. It is my Will that my nephew, Thomas Olivetti, son of my brother Walter Olivetti, becomes CEO of Olivetti Corporation and family Patriarch of the Olivetti family…”

  Their attention shifted to Tom. Murmurs began to steer up in the room. Sebastian was too stunned to do or say anything. Ted Olivetti, Tom’s favorite cousin, gazed at Tom in shock. Daniel Olivetti junior gazed at Tom in disdain and anger. Don Olivetti’s wife smiled with relief. A relief only a mother could understand. She was happy her son, Daniel Junior, wasn’t the one to bare such adverse responsibilities. Tom’s other cousins stared at Tom with surprise in their faces. Tom could hear his father’s breathing increase over the phone.

  “…I therefore Will my mansion, the same house passed down to me by my father, Frederick Olivetti, to Tom, along with the two other mansions I own in New York. Also, a sum of ten billion dollars in my assets, shares and cash will be available to him to spend as he so chooses. My diary, my father’s diary and his ruby ring will be handed to him now by Patrick…” the murmurs in the room increased as Patrick quickly handed Tom the two diaries and the ring.

  “…lastly, I would like to tell Tom, if he is listening to this. Please protect your grandfather’s legacy and remember, TRUST EVERYONE BUT DON’T JUST TRUST ANYONE,” The video went blank.

  The room was quiet. The silence was deafening. A feather could drop and it’d sound like thunder. They stared at Tom. There was no hint of surprise on his face. They were all blindsided. The murmurs began. Sebastian remained seated on his chair with a blank expression on his face. He had moaned his brother for two days and now his brother had stupidly given all the power to his young nephew.

  “This is bullshit!” Daniel Olivetti Junior yelled. The veins on his face were eminent.

  “Calm down,” Patrick O’Donnell said.

  “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! I don’t believe that video! He must have been coerced. I know my father! He will never Will the entire family’s investment to Tom. For crying out loud, Tom just showed up three days ago after disappearing for more than seven years! How the hell will my father make Tom the CEO of a large corporation?”

  “We’ll be leaving you guys to argue this out. Just remember, Daniel has a reason for almost everything,” Don Olivetti’s wife said to everyone as she left the room with her two daughters. The only people now in the room were, Patrick the lawyer, Tom, Sebastian, Ted, Daniel Junior, Francisco, Charles, William and Trevor. No guard was in the room. Walter Olivetti was on the conference call, too stunned to speak.

  Tom stared at the ring on the table. He wasn’t surprised, but most people in the room were. He could read their thoughts clearly. He knew they’d find it difficult to take orders from him. He knew that Daniel Junior felt betrayed. Even Patrick O’Donnell had thoughts of disagreements.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything, Uncle?” Daniel junior said to Sebastian and Walter who seemed to have lost their tongue. Walter hung up. Sebastian looked at Tom then scoffed.

  “My brother…Danny…” he paused as he fought back tears.

  “When was the video dated?” Sebastian finally asked Patrick.

  “Three years ago,” Patrick replied.

  “Tom wasn’t even alive then. I mean, we thought he was still dead. So how then did Danny include Tom in his Will if we all thought Tom was dead?” Sebastian replied in a tone of protest. Daniel Junior seemed to be enjoying what was transpiring. Patrick O’Donnell was speechless. He was too intimidated by the angry and confused faces in the room.

  “W-well, I advised him, but he seemed to know what he was saying. He wasn’t under the influence of any narcotics or alcohol at the time this video was made. As a matter of fact, his written Will says the exact same thing. And that Will was written eight years ago. Before Tom’s death or should I say, Disappearance,” Patrick said as he handed Sebastian an envelope of Don Olivetti’s written Will.

  “I still wouldn’t believe that! My father isn’t one to take miscalculated risks! He will never hand over power to Tom! I’m sure of that!” Daniel Junior protested.

  “Quiet!” Sebastian yelled as he opened the envelope and read through the Will. The room was silent. Tom and his other cousins had still not spoken. Although, Tom could tell that most of them didn’t care who took over the family. To them, it was all a matter of money, comfort and safety.

  Sebastian chuckled as he read through the written Will. He then laughed as he continued reading. They stared at each other then stared at Sebastian, in suspense.

  “So?” Daniel Junior asked.

  “So, it’s confirmed. Tom is CEO and family Patriarch,” Sebastian said in a low voice. “I don’t know what Danny was thinking, but I’ll have to trust him on this one. If all goes wrong, we can always rebel against our leader,” Sebastian said as he folded the paper and passed the envelope back to Patrick.

  “Well, I’m going to rebel now. There’s no way Tom is controlling the entire company. I have a Master’s degree in Finance, Economics and Accounting. I worked hard all my life for this and now, he is just going to drop down from heaven and take it all away?” Daniel Junior said without hesitating. All this while, Tom said nothing about what was transpiring before him.

  Sebastian was surprised by the amount of hatred Daniel Junior was exhibiting towards Tom. Patrick O’Donnell was too uncomfortable to say anything. Bein
g in a room full of Italian mobsters wasn’t entirely his forte. “C’mon DJ, you should give Tom the benefit of a doubt,” Ted Olivetti finally interrupted.

  “Benefit of what? Taking everything my father worked for?” Daniel Junior replied.

  “Quiet boy! The entire family worked for it. Not just your father. Put your feelings aside and embrace loyalty and brotherhood,” Sebastian Olivetti said sternly as he stood up. Everyone watched as he walked to Tom’s side. He then went on one knee, placed the ring on Tom’s finger then kissed it.

  “Don Thomas Olivetti! You have my loyalty. Just steer us in the right direction and I will follow. We will follow. Is that right!?” Sebastian said. Immediately, the energy in the room changed. Everyone in the room nodded except Daniel Junior who was now shaking furiously.

  “What qualifies you!? You have no degree we have heard of. No experience running the family business. Nothing!” Daniel yelled. Sebastian suddenly became angry. He was in a room full of boys, and Daniel junior managed to disrespect him in front of his son and nephews. “WHAT!” Sebastian said, but became quiet as soon as Tom held up his hand.

  “It’s alright, Uncle. I’ll take it from here,” Tom said as he stood up and adjusted his suit. “I’m leaving,” Daniel said as he stood up. He walked to the door like a spoiled child throwing tantrums.

  “Sit down, Daniel!” Tom commanded in a thunderous tone. The room shook or so it seemed. Daniel’s legs were instantly weak. His body felt a desperate need to obey. He sat down reluctantly.

  “You can express all your anger to me, but direct it to me alone. Never disrespect your father’s brother!” Tom added as Sebastian sat down on his seat. Surprise sprung on their faces, especially Patrick. He could now see why Tom was chosen. Tom walked up to the computer then typed in a bunch of codes. An image filled the screen—an image of a dead man. He looked like he was tortured to death.