The Italian Heir-CASTELLANO SERIES: MARTIN’S STORY

14

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Erika breathed out. Her chest heaved heavily while she dragged the last three steps into my office.

“You’re late.” I said nonchalantly, my eyes briefly lifted from the document I was perusing. “How are you already here?” she hissed, looking at me with wide, questioning eyes. “You look nice.” I commented, ignoring her question and turned my attention back to the document.

“Thank you?” She said unsurely as she moved to her little corner. As she was settling down, a knock came on my door. “Come in,” I said, flipping the next page of the document. “Sir, my apologies for interrupting but Miss Buchanan is waiting for you at the lobby and said she has some questions to ask.” John informed me.

Erika turned in her chair to look at John, then me as if I could offer her some sort of explanation. “Is there anything else I need to know?” I asked.

“Miss Buchanan has also instructed me to tell you and I say this in her own words, thus quoting, pardon my language and manners…” John looked extremely uncomfortable while clearing his throat. I wasn't prepared for what came next. “i***t, what the hell were you thinking when you decided to work with your ex-girlfriend, you nitwit?”

"Wow, a perfect representation of Rhea indeed, pitch and all." Erika nodded, completely impressed.

“Tell me something John, do you do favors for everyone you meet? Perhaps, maybe I’m giving you too little work?” I raised my head to get a good look at him, shutting my document in an instant. “Sir…” John began. In my peripheral vision, I caught Erika giving me a dramatic eye roll.

“Johnny, he’s only pulling your leg. Never mind him, he always did that to me when we were still children.”

“Crawford, I appreciate the sentiment but I—” I narrowed my eyes to which she smiled wryly in response. “Did Rhea say anything else?” she asked, completely cutting me off.

John still looked uneasy even after those few words of consolation offered to him by Erika. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and answered, “She wants to meet—“

Before John could even get out a full sentence, the door to my room cracked open a small slit and Rhea poked her head in like a gopher out of its hole. Great, first they break into my home and now they barge into my place of work as well. Truly, friends and privacy do not go hand in hand. Would it hurt to ask for some?

“Once more John, is there a need to double our building’s security? I keep having uninvited strangers into my office building and this is the second time you let people of a sort slip in right under your nose.” I frowned theatrically.

“I think at this rate, I might even get robbed in broad daylight if a robber happens to waltz right in.” I added, drumming all five fingers lightly against my desk.

John looked like he wanted to strangle himself standing rooted in his spot. “Wow, so I guess all that karate and taekwondo classes your mom sent you were a waste.”

“Crawford,” I said in a warning tone. She smiled, showing me her full set of pearly whites.

“This is honestly none of your secretary’s fault. I tried waiting, I really did. But I figured if I were to follow one of your many employees, my waiting time would be considerably shortened, it’s all about smart thinking, Castellano.” Rhea chimed.

“Five minutes of waiting…” John muttered.

“You’re Cornell’s Student Body President yet the term protocol means nothing to you, does it?” I folded my arms and leaned against my chair.

“Protocols are a bunch of made-up rules that might not necessarily work for everyone and they are begging to be broken. They can and should be overlooked when matters at hand are urgent.” She said succinctly and I sighed. “Least they keep hooligans like you in check for a given period of time. And if you say, pray tell, what could possibly be so urgent but you’re standing there rather calm and collected?”

Her body language did not exactly scream ‘the sky is falling’, not when she was helping herself to the box of croissants I had specifically bought for Erika for tea. What? That girl gets hungry every hour.

John was still standing in the middle of my office, looking clueless, as if he were in the middle of a family argument.

“John, you may now leave. Ah, that reminds me, I think it’s time that we should reconsider that safety seminar for our fellow employees to keep them aware, especially when they’re being followed.” I waggled my finger at him as I directed the last bit at Rhea, who suddenly found my row of plaque awards of my achievements over the last few years rather interesting. John nodded and left without another word.

“You know, you never struck me as a petty person, at least not until now.” Rhea mused.

“How delightful, you recognize one of my brightest qualities in being human.” I said flatly.

“Well, at least I didn’t barge into the middle of an important meeting that you’re chaperoning.” Rhea snorted, walking towards the lounge area and dropping her bag on the empty seats.

“You barged into my home a few days ago, unannounced. If I hadn’t recognized your heavy footsteps, I would have knocked you out in an instant.” I remarked.

“Oh yeah, now I remember why you two could never be in the same room.” Erika said thoughtfully, the both of us glared at her before Rhea turned her attention back at me. I noticed Lucien was sitting outside on my way in with a dude rocking a funky hairdo.

What’s with the special treatment for our girl here?”

I opened and closed my mouth, gulping silently once I realized what I did was indeed out of pettiness and me saying anything to justify myself would prove what Rhea had just said about me was true. But instead, Erika came to the rescue.

“Martin wants us both to explore the different tasks and assignments that his department is in charge of—that’s killing two birds with one stone. I attend meetings, Lucien has pretty interesting lessons from a funky haird dude whose name’s Jackson, by the way. At the end of it all, Lucien and I will have learned whatever we could learn here and you will be able to get that perfect report you wanted.”

Rhea looked skeptical at first but bought it eventually. “Is that it? And here I thought you wanted to separate the two love birds.” She chuckled lightly.

A nerve ticked somewhere in my body but displayed no expression whatsoever on my face. Rhea looked serious once more when she realized Erika didn't have a clue as to what her best friend was saying. “Why do I have a feeling that the only person in this room that doesn’t know Lucien adores Erika is the person herself?”

“What are you talking about Rhea?” Erika sounded a little exasperated, a little curious. “Hello? Before this whole assignment even started, the two of you were hanging around each other an awful lot. It’s only normal for feelings to develop.”

“One sided, yes.” I said tartly. Rhea shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just saying, Lucien’s a nice guy and you have not dated in ages; not unless you’re seeing someone else that we don’t know about?”

“Course not.” Erika answered, avoiding eye contact with me at all cost, a look of confusion spread all over her face for mere seconds and, gone in a flash. “Anyway, what brings you here?” she added hastily, attempting to steer Rhea away from her secret life behind closed doors with a certain mutual friend involved.

I hid my smirk while she hid her funny walk from view.

**

“So you’re telling me that you’re now working with her?” Rhea repeated slowly. There was no way I was about to tell Rhea that it was Erika’s idea for me to hear what that woman had to offer in a business contract.

However, I was right about the reason why Rhea had showed up—to ask about Zoe. There was simply no way she’d let it pass, at least not after what happened.

“Look Rhea, I know you’re upset with her for what she’s done to you in the past, but I think we’ve moved past all those petty grievances now that we have other things to worry about. Her father is mentoring her to take over his place in Blunt Corp. eventually, and I’m sure the last thing she wants to get involved in is foul play.”

“Petty grievances?” Rhea looked at me like I had just slapped her mother in the face. “Martin, in case you didn’t know, your ex-girlfriend stole my business idea and prototype and sold it to some entrepreneur and made pretty good money off it! I’ve not heard so much of an apology from her either and I found out through a friend when I was trying to get help creating a website!”

“The person Zoe sold the idea to did not make any profit out of it no matter how much effort he put in just to sell that stolen product. I’d say Zoe did you a favor instead of having you waste your time at it when you can spare your creativity on something else.” I calmly suggested.

Rhea pinched the bridge of her nose while taking in my words, she stared hard at me, much to her chagrin. “So what you’re also trying to say was that idea pitch was so bad, that even if it was stolen by someone else it wouldn’t have mattered because it would not make me any profit in the first place?”

“Look, “I said tiredly, “that clearly was not what I had implied and I simply do not have the time to explain what I had meant.” I checked my watch quickly before rising to my feet, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to leave. Crawford, I would have wanted you to come with me but I think you should stay here and finish up that assignment I gave you.”

Erika gave me a look of reassurance, my gut clenched in response. She was the only person who knew what really went down with Rhea’s business and Zoe’s dishonesty. It was old news that was dug up once more just because someone involved from the past resurfaced without a forewarning, especially neither bothered to have it resolved.

“Are you seriously just gonna walk away after you’ve just insulted me as such?” Rhea said in a frosty tone. Erika put a hand on her best friend’s shoulder only to get it shrugged off.

“You’re not the only person who’s good at coming up with business ideas, Martin. And you have absolutely no right to question my judgement of character and my creativity. The least you could do was help me with it at that time and not side with your ex thinking she did me an act of kindness by stealing my shit.” Rhea stood up, thoroughly nettled as she watched me walk away.

I walked to my desk without turning my back, grabbing the folder I was reading earlier and my coat from the hangar, eager to leave.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if I helped or offered my advice, would it? Not especially when you’ve always preferred doing things your own way. If there was one advice I would offer you back then, it was not to trust anyone that easily.” I let out, throwing on my coat and buttoning the buttons.

“Oh Martin, you are so twisted. You of all people do not condone dishonesty, yet you let her get away with it so easily and now you’re even working with the same person who’s done such a horrible thing to your friend.”

“Rhea,” Erika said. “Need I remind you that we’re in Martin’s and my place of work? The last thing you ought to do is make a scene here.”

“It was nice talking to you too. Erika, I’ll see you later.” I said calmly, jerking the door handle open and ventured out of my office. On my right, John stood waiting with his usual black tablet in hand.

“Is he here yet?” I asked. Willing myself to inhale a deep but silent breath of oxygen in order to clear my head before the next meeting. I just hoped Rhea wouldn’t be too mad at me thinking I was siding with my Zoe because that wasn’t the case.

I only ever had Rhea’s best interests at heart and I would never do anything to hurt her. But business is business. This was exactly why I kept personal feelings and business apart.

“Yes Sir, he’s waiting for you in the meeting room on the 50th floor; I’ll be right up with some coffee.”

“You do that.”

I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my slacks and waited for the elevator ride. The sounds of heavy footsteps were approaching towards where I stood—Lucien arrived promptly just as the elevator doors opened. “Morning, Sir.”

I nodded and returned the greeting.

“Everything alright?” he asked carefully. I took a brief glance at him and looked ahead as we descended upwards. “Yes, why do you ask?” I said blankly.

“You seem tense.” was all he said.

I neither denied nor agreed with him but changed the question instead. “What floor are you headed to?” I asked nonchalantly. “The animation department—I need their help with some things.”

I jabbed the button on the panel for him and he thanked me. Sensing my question bubbling, he answered. “I used to like spending a lot of time nose deep in graphic animation, motion type of things in my first two years of college just as a stupid little hobby.”

“So why didn’t you pursue it if you liked it?”

“I needed a diploma that’s more stable to navigate my way through the real world. I simply didn’t think a mere hobby was going to bring me far. Do you perhaps have a hobby?”

I would admit I did ransack my brain for a little bit to find a suitable answer to that question and it got me thinking—I did not have a hobby. Wait, how about reading? But I only read because I have to, not because I want to. What else, what else? I don’t do anything ‘for fun’. Wow, my friends were right about me, I was a brilliant kid but downright boring…as hell.

A soft ‘ding’ went off and the doors slid open within seconds. Just as Lucien was about to step out, only did I decide I wanted to do something nice for a change. “A word of advice—take it or leave it—A diploma is nothing but an expensive piece of paper. Your set of skills, however, sets you apart from the crowd. If you enjoy doing what you love, it’ll only be a matter of time you'll figure out a way to make your work known, ergo succeed.”

Lucien looked surprised, taken aback even. This was probably the most genuine conversation I ever had with him, nothing that screamed ‘Hey I’m insulting you now frenchie! Can’t you tell?’

“Thank you for that piece of advice. I appreciate it.”

I offered him a small smile that barely reached my eyes, but nevertheless, Lucien had reminded me of something I should have been doing a long time ago and that was to find a damn hobby!

But first things first…

“Mr. Tate, apologies for keeping you waiting. How was your trip here?” I asked the elderly man as I entered the familiar room, dropping the document in hand and shaking the man’s hand. “A smooth ride indeed, thank you for sending the car, Mr. Castellano.” Mr. Tate nodded gratefully.

Now Mr. Tate visited Castellano Holdings about two weeks ago claiming that he wasn’t here to make an investment but rather to work for me. Of course, I didn’t understand what he meant then, because I was rather surprised as to why an elderly man his age wanted to work for a large corporation.

But this man—despite his old age—did some research on our company’s background and he was particularly interested in the way I handled the recent restructuring and reorganizing the board of investors—housekeeping, as I call it. At first, I thought he was merely sucking up (I was never easily pleased nor impressed) to me just to get the job, but as we conversed for the first time ever (when Erika was seated in the meeting), suffice to say I was rather impressed with the way he explained why Castellano Holdings would require his services from a small time security firm.

Which brings us to my next point—what Mr. Tate has been doing it for a living in the last 30 years? CBA—Cyber Security Agency.

This man was the internet police (a fairly experienced one if you may). You want your complex data system to be protected from external hacking or viruses? Consider it done. You need someone to remove that embarrassing photo your grandmother took of you when you were 5 while you were picking your nose from her f*******: wall? This was your guy. Well, yeah, you get the point.

Basically, what Erika and I had discussed previously after a meeting with Mr. Tate had to come up with a contingency plan—at least this time Erika agreed with me. Meanwhile, I was about to leave all advertising materials, large chunks of information and years and years of data to Blunt Corp. and trust them to come up with a 15 second commercial now that we’ve decided to revamp that magazine sector as well.

As complex as that all sounds, a part of me needs a backup plan formulated in case it does not go according to plan—not that I expected it to, but being in this industry for so many years, I’ve learnt that you always gotta prepare for the worst.

I blame and thank my lack of trust in anyone in this line of business, but it is always better to be safe than sorry.

The document I had been reading earlier before Erika showed up was in fact the contract I had signed with Zoe days ago. Although the contract was flawless, what with its terms and conditions drawn out in detail, figures, charts, revenues—I can’t help but feel deep in my gut there was something wrong with the contract. And I need to figure out exactly what it was before this whole business exchange f****d me up real good.

Which brings me to my agenda—an invitation to Melbourne by Zoe, who was leaving in two days. She had left me a text last night when I was…occupied with a certain someone asking if I would leave for Melbourne with her.

I had not had the time to tell anyone about it just yet, and especially not Rhea after what had happened earlier.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Castellano, but you want me to create some sort of firewall to be able to bounce any form of virus detected, possibly even deleting the whole ad altogether?” Mr. Tate clasped his wrinkle-textured hands in front of him, leaning in closer.

“Yes.” I confirmed, tapping a finger in slow, repeated motions as I thought hard. “I need all the network traffic of Blunt Corp. to be monitored, especially when the commercial is being broadcast. What I need you to do is tighten the security of their platform as well. In simpler terms, I need you to cushion the impact just in case; can I count on you to do so for me?”

“Yes Mr. Castellano, of course. Say if you want what Blunt Corp. has tirelessly produced… oh dear.” Mr. Tate pondered thoughtfully.

“As you know, 15 second commercials are the toughest to come up with and the amount of work they’d have to do—the whole film would have to undergo extensive criticism and cut off many parts before they decide to finalise what’s left of it…and to have it completely removed—“

“Not removed, Mr. Tate, it’s more of…” I circled my wrist, my palm open as I carefully chose my next word. “Replaced.”

“Are you saying that you’ve already come up with a backup plan?” the elderly man raised his graying brows peering at my face as if this was the single most interesting thing he'd heard all week.

“As a matter of fact, I think I already have.”

**

“You’re not gonna yell at me?” I asked curiously as I planted feathery kisses from Erika’s jaw to her neck, lingering longer than usual on her décolletage. “Is there a reason that I should?” she asked with her eyes closed, her lower back digging into the kitchen countertop as I cornered her.

“I mean, she is your best friend after all. Naturally, you should be siding with her.” I pulled away slowly. She opened her eyes and took a good look at me before sighing.

“Look, you were nothing but downright honest with her. The truest of truths is always harsher when not sugar coated and its best to hear it from someone who has your best interests at heart. However, I think you could have done better in phrasing your words differently. Although Rhea’s one tough cookie, a blow like that from someone like you would definitely have to hurt for a while before it all sinks in.”

I straightened my back and took a step back trying to take it all in. “I just don’t understand why she had to drag the past back in, I mean, it’s been years Erika…Rhea should have forgotten it all by now, shouldn’t she?”

“Martin, some people process bad experiences and past trauma slower than everyone else.” Erika said patiently, squeezing my arm.

“Bad memories will have to resurface when they do, so they would rather keep them locked away in a part of their brain until something triggers it. In this case, with Rhea, it was one of her closest friends who treated her that way and she was left alone to deal with the betrayal and aftermath while the other got off easy. What Zoe did to Rhea was unforgivable and you shouldn’t be the one to tell Rhea to move past it or even shake on it.”

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. I had no idea. Rhea was never one to talk about her problems and Erika was right about her shutting out those bad memories like they never happened. “I guess I messed up big time, didn’t I? I care so much about Rhea that I thought maybe being harsh to her might just be what she needs to toughen up. It always worked when dad used to give me his long lectures about business.”

“Oh Martin.” Erika touched my cheek gently. “What may work for you might not work for others. Everyone’s wired differently and that’s what makes them unique—check and balance, no?”

I leaned my forehead against hers and her shoulders dropped in response. We stood in comfortable silence, neither of us saying another word. I wanted to store everything Erika had just said to me somewhere safe. Despite being only two years younger than I was, in so many ways this woman was wiser than I was and I’ve always admired her silently in the shadows.

“You smell nice.” She said quietly. Her words shattered my thoughts and I shifted my full attention back to her once more.

I had just taken a shower with a towel still wrapped around my waist as we spoke, Erika was in the middle of making a meal of crab risotto for the both of us—she insisted on doing so. I took a step forward, placing my thigh between her legs and angled my lips towards her jaw once more.

“Martin, you could be eating burnt food if you keep this up.” She said hoarsely when I didn’t answer her question.

I tapped the ‘off’ switch on the stove panel and the electrical heat shut off while the risotto continued simmering in the pan. She reached for the towel around my waist, fingers grazing dangerously at my lower abdomen. “Crawford, you don't have the slightest idea what you’re capable of.” I whispered, fingers digging gently into her scalp, tugging her hair back while sucking the soft skin just below her ear. Soft mewls escaped her lips and she shuddered, her grip now firm against my towel, determined to take it off.

The doorbell rang.

“Were you expecting someone?” Erika said, barely a whisper. I shook my head. “If you ignore it long enough, they might just leave.”

“Martin, that could be someone important.”

“They’d call if it were.” My hands slid down her back and grabbed the globes of her round ass, hoisting her up on the kitchen counter. “I’d like to keep these to myself if you will.” My voice, unbeknownst to my ears came out huskier thickening with lust as I pulled her against me, my hands roved any and everywhere they had access to.

Erika snagged the towel from around my waist, letting them pool on the ground.

“Mmm.” She hummed, allowing me to take her lips in mine—sucking kneading, rolling them with my own while her hands slid down my chest, skirting dangerously low once more down where I needed her the most.

The doorbell rang once again and both of us groaned. “Castellano, I know you’re home since I saw your car in the garage. Please let me in, I need to talk to you.”

“Please tell me you’ve changed the password on your door.”