The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(229)

“Have a sit-down dear. I know you’re disappointed in me, but let me explain everything.”

“No! I don’t wanna hear your lies again. I’ve had enough of it. You told me you were not gonna gamble again. And yet, you did. How could you?” She cried in complete sadness as she imagined her mother being in jail.

“Please, sit down.”

Not knowing what to do, she was forced to sit down and hear her mother’s plea.

“Since your father died, I’ve been really lonely. Gambling is my only therapy, and you know that. I didn’t know what to do. I gambled what was left to us in hope to make it grow, and it did. That’s why I got you through to college.”

“I know that. But you told me you’re gonna stop.” Tasia cut in.

“Darling, you must understand that I’ve been really depressed lately when you were gone doing you studies. I couldn’t stay home. I’d go mad. Is that what you want? Tell me?”

Tasia felt what her mother was going through. She’d been there. She knew how it felt to be left out and abandoned. Of course, it was miserable. Who would want to be in that position? “So, what do we do now?”

“We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it so much. It’s my problem. It’s not yours to solve.”

Really? How could you say that? Tasia asked her mother in her thoughts. She was everything to her. And she would do almost anything to protect her. That was the promise she had made before her father died. A promise she had to keep.



****

Anton was wiping his .30 Carbine pistol when the brothers arrived from hunting. Raising his gun up slightly, he mirrored what they were doing through the shiny surface of his silver pistol.

“So how many did you manage to hunt?” He asked, wondering how much money they would earn out of the illegal weapons his brothers managed to trade.

“A couple.” One of them spoke.

“Give me the details.”

“20,000 pistols. 30,000 armalites. 15,000 shotguns. And 10,000 missiles.”

“Is that all?” He asked. His voice sounded like he was angry.

“Yes… We couldn’t convince the idiots to give us more shotguns. Instead, they gave us missiles.”

Turning around to face them, his face expressed a hint of danger. The brothers felt the sting of his stare.

“What are you gonna do with those freaking missiles? You all know not many wanted that crap. I told you to get shotguns, as many as you possibly can.”

“That’s the thing. They’ve run out. Oh, well. At least, that’s what they’ve said.”

“Assholes…. You should’ve blown their heads off.”

He turned again to put his pistol away.

“Go. Find our clients. Make sure you don’t mess up this time. Or otherwise, I’ll definitely blow all your heads off.”

The brothers were shocked. Fear clouded the atmosphere. They knew he was serious. A powerful and candid person like him could do almost anything with his money. They knew they were no match for him. One word – they might breathe their last.

Thinking about not having enough shotguns to provide his clients’ requests triggered his fury. Damn cunts, he thought. He walked back and forth repeatedly, trying to calm himself down. But the hatred pre-conceived as a kid always got the best of him.

He threw his pistol against the huge mirror. The sound of the mirror shattering into tiny pieces irritated him even more, inclining his already flaming temper. He wanted everything to be perfect. He was very organized. One mistake could turn him into a monstrous creature that everyone feared. He believed he could obtain everything through violence. At least, that was what he learned as he grew up.

He looked at his wristwatch for the time before dialing a number on the telephone.

“Hello? Sam, are you there?”

Sam was the old fellow who introduced him to the industry of mafia. He was an American man who traveled to Russia for illegal trading. Learning Anton’s crestfallen childhood forced him to help him reach his ambitious dream.

“Oh, hello there Anton. What brought you here?” He asked.

“I’m still in Russia. I’m coming over to talk about important stuff. If you know what I mean.”

He did not want to be so specific about the topic. He knew there might be FBI spies listening on the line. He’d seen it happened before to one of his brothers, and he was too wise to be fooled.

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about. Just pop in. You know where I live, right?”

“Alright. Thanks!” Then he hung up the phone without even saying goodbye.





Chapter Two

Under a tree, Tasia sat on one of the benches in the park close to her house in Chicago, waiting for her cousin to arrive. The sun was in its full glory as it cast its tentacles all over the place. Thank goodness, a southerly breeze came in and whispered to her, drying the droplets of sweat all over her face.

As she gulped the last drop of water, she heard someone slam their car’s door with a mighty bang. She had a suspicion it was him. He liked a loud entourage to grab ladies’ attention.

“I knew it was you,” Tasia said as she turned her gaze to Nigel.

His X-Large yellow hoody shone brightly against the rays of the sun. His jewelry spoke that he was rich, not just pretending, pure 18 karat gold. His original NY hat covered his patchy, severely curled hair. But his outfit did not quite compliment his dark and shiny skin.