Chapter 10 Ivan

"Andrei. Andrei's gone, sir, and the papers, gone!" Levi's voice floods my ears, his tone a messy twine of agitation and composure. He's trying to stay calm, but at the same time, his edginess is clawing its way through his tone, making it difficult for him to cleanly conceal it from me. "He was kidnapped a few minutes ago on his way back. I just arrived at the scene and the car is empty, not even a thing here. I think he's behind it."

'He' – Rex.

I do not even need a 0.01 IQ to know it's the sucker who calls himself my brother behind this. He's finally gone and done it, having the rotten nerve to steal MY papers. Those were contract papers I was going to sign, sealing the deal with a German car-producing company to expand the territories of the Briggs group in the automobile industry. When I heard some of their representatives were going to be in Washington around this time, I thought to go beforehand to retrieve the contract papers even though an official meeting with them isn't until two weeks after today. But then, this shoot clashed with the timing, coupled with the opening of this hotel slated for tomorrow, I had to send my lackey in my stead.

Not like any fears concerning Rex had dissipated before then, I just figured that since he was out of town, it wouldn't be a big deal. However, not only did he sneak into Washington without my notice, but he had the actual effrontery to step up and DEFY me by abducting one of my MEN!

Mimicking a hotpot that's just been unlidded, the anger stirring voraciously in the depths of my stomach bursts forth in hot fumes as I overturn the table mindlessly.

The steams keeping my body temperature over forty degrees Celsius, ride through my nerves, turning their endings into dust by mere contact. My vision is now red, gritting my teeth with an enormous amount of strength enough to shatter them if I weren't keeping up with my calcium intake.

The whole building should be in shambles by now, and there still wouldn't be enough room to accommodate the explosion. But somehow, I'm still seated, releasing the fumes in morceaus through clenched fists and teeth. Imagine how it feels hurling up this entire building's worth of steam in one 6'4 figure. Yeah, I feel hot. I'm physically burning hot in a room with a temperature of 16°c.

"Two billion US dollars, Aspen," I undertone, my voice steeped in caged rage. "What were your men doing?"

"They're all on the move, Sir. We're soon to get a location."

His report extracts a sharp breath through my nostrils, it's as loud as the fumes-excrement of the tailpipe of a large truck whose driver just stepped on the brakes.

'"Soon?'" I reverberate, my restraint teetering on the edge. "How soon?" I adjust my tie, and run my tongue over my lower lip, before looking up at him. If he were going to give a response, eye contact with me stuffs his throat with the crappy excuse. His lips hang in an oval shape, and he forcefully dips his head a few seconds later.

Thought as much – he has nothing left to say to me.

I rise and he backs up, two steps away. But still, within arm's reach, I dive his collar, tugging his face to mine a breath away. The next second, I repel him with a punch across his cheek.

'Ivan!' in a feminine voice rings out in the atmosphere and I see Laurel vaulting up her seat in distress. But she's like a shadow, and her voice, the ding of elevator doors – incoherent. The veil over my consciousness should be around two millimeters thick.

Aspen staggers for about two seconds and flashes back to his original form – before me. "Two billion US dollars, Aspen," I grit into his nostrils, hands on his collar towing him close. "That is how much is at stake here. I fund your team to be able to find even a needle in a haystack. Your appliances and facilities rival that of the FBI, Aspen. And you can't find him?"

He lowers his gaze even though only his eyelids are able to move due to my steel grip keeping his head upward.

"And Rex?"

"We-we haven't been able to track him, Sir." He'll eventually come out but that'll be after successfully hiding away the papers and it'll be useless then. It has to be now or never.

"I don't care what you have to do," I croak. "Clack the keyboard until your fingernails wear off, glare into the screen until your eyes bleed, scurf through the entire CCTV on planet Earth. You have to find Rex before tomorrow morning, understood?"

"Ye-yes, Sir," he says, nodding vehemently.

Pumping only a trifling measure of my wrath to my fists, I push him away, landing him on his butt about six feet away. As usual, he hops back up, taking half the average time it would to get back on your feet after a fall.

"Book me a flight to Washington DC," I order, trotting out after clutching Laurel's wrist, without giving him another look as he scrambles his way to catch up.

• • •

"The opening is tomorrow, Sir."

The grouse stops me short in my tracks as I stride to the fleet of cars lined up in the basement. Not less than ten men surround me, each of their shoes producing urgent run-walk clacks that saturate the air. We're all in a fierce battle against time for me to catch my flight approximately forty minutes from now – I confirm, twisting my wrist upward to check the time.

Although I am not getting on a lone flight as that would take at least a week to prepare, Aspen booked me the nearest flight back to Washington DC and luckily it is an hour less from now.

Hopefully, thanks to someone, I wouldn't have to miss my flight.

Drawing in a deep breath out of irritation, I turn around to meet the hotel's manager standing at the basement door that leads off into the hotel.

Shorter than I am, I look down at him with a bemused crinkle etched onto my expression. The balls between his legs must be two times the original size for him to bring me to a halt.

He timidly walks forward, his steps unwavering like he's convinced of what he wants to say to me. I think our age difference is another factor keeping his pants dry despite the death glare I am giving him. He's an older man who should be in his fifties if I'm not mistaken.

"The meeting is tomorrow, Sir," he repeats, treading with caution like his walking on a thin-line bridge over an ocean. "Everything has been made ready for tomorrow. We've channeled six months of preparation into tomorrow, Sir."

Veering to Aspen by my right, I ask, "Didn't you tell him?" I had asked him to brief him on the recent development.

"I did," he replies and reverts his stare to the manager. "It has to be put on hold," he says to him.

"How about you make special arrangements for tomorrow to go on as planned? Members of the board and shareholders will be present tomorrow and it'll be quite an insult to them if we ball out now."

My eye sockets dilate, my eyes bulging into a gape at his tenacity. "Two billion US dollars is at stake here," I state concisely to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"The reputation of the hotel is also at stake, Sir."

"You can send out memos and apologize for the inconvenience. We'll reschedule and contact you for a new date." I pivot to resume my journey to the car when he gobbles our distance and the next thing I can feel are tender palms encasing my left hand.

"You're fired," I assert, rashly hauling my hand away from his grip. Aspen walks rapidly right behind me, keeping his strides one foot away. "Aspen, contact the HR department in charge of Californian chains of businesses, and have him relieved of his duties."

"Yes, sir."

I get to the car I'm going to be riding in – a black SUV – and stop. The driver holds the door open yet Laurel who is supposed to hop in first doesn't move a muscle. Facing her, she's staring up at me moon-eyed, feelings of pity and astonishment cohabiting in her eyes. The deep blue orbs swirl behind me, presumably to the advanced man who's just lost his means of livelihood, and that confirms the 'pity' she feels.

When she remarries my eyes, I lean my head sideways to the backseat, gesturing she get in. She diverts her eyes elsewhere before taking begrudging steps forward.

"You wouldn't want me carrying you in, would you?" deep-voiced, I croon impatiently when she abruptly wouldn't take the last upward step and save me the stress of having to toss her around like a toddler.

Finally, she complies.

Before joining suit, I tip my chin to the side, over my shoulder, to speak to Aspen. "Have Lloyd oversee things before we get a replacement."

By the time I'm done instructing, the door to the SUV thuds short and the response from Aspen that follows, through the tinted glass, is a view of him bowing. The manager remains stiffened in the middle of the parking lot while every headlight on the cars in convoy begins to blare, following the haphazard slamming sounds of the doors.

Laurel sitting beside me has not uttered a word for the past forever, ingesting my side view with owl eyes. She has seen me snap and yell while scolding her before, but this look sure is nothing like those times. It feels like my mind is engulfed in a world of its own and every other thing outside Rex, Adrien, and my papers, are numbed out. I could take a punch now and not feel it. But of course, I'd come back very much alive to relish the feeling on my fists when I unite them with Rex's miserable jaw.

'Welcome to my world, beautiful.'

Cheers to what it looks like when a rock has replaced my heart. And I swear to God, not even Rex and his cohorts in about a thousand lifetimes would wish to deal with this.