Page 5 of Shadows of Obsession
“Oh please. You wouldn't last a day without me,” he says with a smile as he leaves my office.
If a soldier spoke to me like that, I'd cut out his tongue and make him swallow it.
I found Felix five years ago when the little brat tried to pick my pocket during an event. I don't know if it was the fact that when I caught him and threatened to cut off his fingers one by one, his only response was 'Let go, weirdo,' but he caught my attention.
Felix grew up in an orphanage and was living on the streets when I found him. That night I offered him a job, and since thenhe's always been the first one in the office, learning all my habits and preferences in record time.
I know everything he does is to make my life easier. A few months ago, he started bringing me a mix of ginger, lavender, and rosemary tea instead of coffee to help with my migraines and stress.
I shot his teacup, and all he said was:
“I'll bring your coffee. When that vein in your head finally pops, I hope you've put me in your will.”
Annoying brat. My phone rings, Damien's name on the screen.
“Talk to me,” I say, still signing permits.
“One of my guys just called. Police stopped our weapons shipment at the New Hampshire border.”
Damien's the head of Chicago's Polish mafia and one of the few people I don't want to shoot when they open their mouth.
“Devin?” I already know the answer but need confirmation.
The Irish mafia's been trying to steal our territory and suppliers for a while now. They're most interested in the weapons smuggling. Damien and I control all of Chicago's arms transport, and only someone as stupid as Devin, the Irish mob boss, would dare attack our shipment.
“I'm gonna drill through his brain,” Damien says in a tone that makes me want to send condolences to the Irish for their upcoming loss.
“Tell me what you need, Damien. This isn't just an FYI call.”
The Irish have been circling us for a while, and though they haven't been a serious threat compared to other criminal factions, their boldness is growing. A message needs sending.
“My boys caught Ben, their accountant. Want to play a little?” Suddenly there's excitement in his voice.
I laugh. Damien's as twisted as I am and enjoys any chance to drop the gentleman act.
“Give me an hour to finish signing these permits and I'll meet you at your basement?” I ask, feeling his irritation in his breathing.
“Damn it! I'll try to keep him alive until then,” he sighs.
“Some of us have responsibilities beyond a self-operating club,” I say and hang up.
Damien's club isn't just any simple self-sustaining establishment. It's the largest and most exclusive club, where members pay a fortune just for access. You'll see poker games between senators, alliances signed over glasses of cognac older than the people drinking it, and the fulfillment of the most bizarre sexual fantasies and needs.
That bastard has so many governors and police chiefs in his pocket, he could walk down the street covered in cocaine during a parade and no one would blink. Apparently that didn't help with this shipment.
By the time I finish signing everything, I'm bored out of my mind and need to hit someone.
“If anything urgent comes up, you know where to find me,” I tell Felix as I get in the elevator.
I swear I hear the little shit mumbling, “I'm the only one working here.”
But I shake my head, happy I'll get some action tonight.
There's this calm before the storm feeling that I don't like. Something's brewing and I don't have all the pieces.
?
When I reach Damien's place, the guards at the entrance nod me through, and I take off my jacket. I've been here so many times I know exactly how long it takes to get there. Three minutes later I'm at the entrance to the basement, and when I open the door, I hear the first scream..He started without me.
