CHAPTER 2 - YOU ARE MINE
1027 Words
Manhattan, New York
On a rainy Friday morning, an elegant looking man walked up at Tenth Avenue, his butler positioned his umbrella in front of him like a shield. It was wet and sleety and the umbrella kept getting pulled inside out by the guts of the sharp wind from the winter wind. As they came to the corner of the Nineth Avenue, the butler checked his watch. Only a little past ten. There’s still a lot of time for his master to resume his recording. Shaking the excess water from the umbrella, the butler folded it up before stepping inside and opened the door for his master, who looked really tired but still good-looking.
‘Jones, the usual for my Boss’. The fifty-year-old something barista smiled and give him a nod.
His boss, Maksim Vengerov is a German-born Israeli concert violinist, horticulturist, business man, famous for his humanitarian work and known for visiting Figueras Gourmet Coffee Shop whenever he can, that provided locals, tourist, commuters the best brew in town. The recording studio two blocks from the coffee shop, is still wrapping up his latest solo album.
While sipping his black coffee, Maksim was reminded of his past life. In the past ten years, his fans loved him so much for his award-winning recordings. He is one of the greatest violinists in the world today. He has an attractive personality, 6 foot tall, sharp featured, well-built and very intelligent.
But music is just his façade. Yes, This blue green eye man was a real cold blooded, professional killer.
Just like his music, he is the best in assassination and other paid dirty jobs. When he became the leader in their organization, he had men protecting him, had those multi-million-dollar business transactions to different parts of the world, and accumulated enough, not just enough, but so much money to buy villas and hotels in every country that he wishes to.
Sleep any woman he wanted, eat in the best restaurants in the world, drive the fanciest car, flew in his jet planes, relaxed in his yachts. Not bad for a kid who grew up playing his violin in the ghettos and concentration camps to give comfort and distraction from their horrific reality.
One day a German soldier, named Gunter, took pitied to the seven-year-old Israeli boy. The soldier stashed his pocket full of cash.
‘Kiddo, I have a simple job for you. This money in your pocket will be yours if you will get the brown brief case in the General’s office. I will help you get away from here and bring you to the United States.’ Maksim thought he was dreaming. With that kind of offer for a child who lived with constant hunger, sickness and fear of death, he easily agreed. Moving to the U.S., was something he never even thought of dreaming. His job was simple, play his violin, put sleeping powder in the general’s tea and get his briefcase that was hidden inside in his locker.
Simple enough, the General started to snore when little Maksim started to play his Mazurka in A Minor, Op. 67 No.4., but the job took an unexpected turn, when he was about to get the briefcase, the sleeping general woke up! Frozen in place, little Maksim watched him reach under his pillow and pulled out a Beretta M9. The child has only a split second to react, he reached for his knife with an initial of “M.V.” out of his pants back pocket, aimed the knife at the general’s chest.
The sharp blade sank into the general’s chest and pierced his heart. He was dead within ten seconds, young Maksim experienced his first murder!
The unexpected turn of events, upset the young Maksim, and true to his word, Gunter, praise him and appreciated his accomplishments.
The German soldier feed and took care of him in an old apartment in New York. From the moment he set foot in American soil, he fell in love in the busy streets of New York.
He liked everything from the noise, the crowds, the busses, the taxis, the running people holding cup of coffees to the bright lights. Gunter strictly trained Maksim for all kinds of martial Arts, Knife fighting techniques and combat shooting and enrolled him in a music conservatory.
It didn’t take long for Maksim to realize that Gunter was a protector of a drug cartels, drug lords, big time syndicates in the United States. He has connections and he will easily get rid of his competitors. Whatever Vengerov’s situation called for, Gunter is there to help him carry out the assignment to its successful completion.
Gunter cherished Maksim like his own son. He respected, appreciated and disciplined Maksim if there’s mishaps in his tasked. His teaching to little Maksim is “Never leave music, and never get caught.”
By the time he reached his twenty-third birthday, Gunter gifted him his first million-dollar bank account, a newly bought jet plain and a ‘woman’ to popped his cherries. He disliked the later gift, nonetheless, he never says a word of disagreement to Gunter. Being proficient in guns, knives, poisons, bombs, combining drug chemicals – women are no space for the young man’s mind.
How time flies, he was now twenty-nine years old, spoke English, Italian, Mexican, Russian, Chinese and Japanese like a native and elevated his craft to an art form. He wasn’t just a concert violinist and a killer for hire. He was a mafia leader, a protector to drug lords, celebrities, business tycoons and will often provide the cops for a fall out guy.
‘Boss, a phone call for you’. Maksim was back in his trance when his butler handed the phone for him to answer.
‘Yes, what is it?’ irritated, he answered the call.
‘Boss, we found her!’ Maksim exhaled and he squeeze the phone lightly, veins can be seen visibly in his hands, ‘Got it, good job Luca.’
‘Don’t you dare, run away from me, Atasha, you are mine and mine alone.’ He silently whispers as he continues to sip on his cold black coffee.
- Writer
