Chapter 33 Beautiful...
I knew Jeffery could tell I really was not in the mood for games or jokes because he got super silent on the other end. He should know by now that i do not play about Celene. Nor Celene.
So I asked again, to make sure he got the message.
"Do you think you're ready to die, Jeffery"
“No Boss.” he finally responded.
“Book my flight back home. We can finish whatever publicity stunt we want from over there. I’m tired of this blasted city.”
I hung up after sharing a few specifics and getting affirmation from Jeffery.
I sighed deeply as I thought of Celene and being back home. No news was good news anyway. I needed to be with her immediately. Today. Then I would work on other things and plans I had.
As I adjusted the neck of my turtleneck shirt, looking at my face in the mirror of my hotel room, my father’s eyes stared back at me.
We all had the same green eyes. It was a defining feature for Buenaventura men. It was a trademark imprinted in our DNA.
My father’s eyes were always dark, resembling a thick jungle rainforest, while my grandfather’s had a lighter shade, almost like a blend of green and lemon. It was striking and equally scary, like he could see right through your soul and tell your deepest secrets.
Three generations of men had worked themselves to the bone, selling themselves to the devils under their beds and in their minds to build a stronghold as huge as the Buenaventura Group of Companies. I did not take it for granted—especially since I got the long end of the stick.
I just had to keep things in order, make sure things continued flowing in the correct tide, make friends with the right people, and keep the name spotless, especially since a lot of blood had been paid to wipe the Buenaventura name squeaky clean.
After almost a hundred years of laundering their name, the Buenaventura had grown from back-end illegal traders to benefactors and sponsors for the current small dogs. I knew I got into power at the point that suited me most.
I did not need to sully my name and hands as much as my predecessors did. Current crime lords looked to us as godfathers, paying homage and seeking refuge where necessary.
But I did not delude myself into thinking I had it easier. The higher you rise, the farther you fall. I also knew I had no short list of enemies to keep tabs on. People who had been wronged, offended, or punished—and still needed a pound of flesh from me—were never in short supply.
A few hours later, I was on a plane, landing in New York. It took everything in me to get home first and at least show myself to my mother. She looked even more frail than the last time I saw her. Her smile lines and wrinkles had gotten deeper.
She did not show me a list of people she suspected, and that was a small mercy. I could not deal with any crazy drama before I could meet my Celene.
After having my mother fawn over me for two straight hours, I left her place and went straight to Celene’s house.
Outside her door, I removed my little door pick and opened her door quietly. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened last time. I wasn’t a fool; I knew my emotions got the best of me then, and I had banged her door too hard.
As I eased myself inside, I couldn’t help but appreciate the color choices she used in her house all over again. I walked to her room, but paused at the doorway and watched her sleep.
She was beautiful.
I quickly noticed she wore the nightdress I had picked. Pride welled up in me, filling me until it gave me a heady rush.
As I heard her breathe in deeply, I got to work. I had previously scouted the positions where I would place my cameras. I made quick work of it, matching my footsteps to her breathing.
I placed the cameras at the foot of her bed, in her closet, in her different light bulbs, in her center mini-chandelier, and in her air conditioner.
I needed a 360 view of her room. After that, I moved to the rest of her apartment, placing and connecting them in various obscure locations around her house.
Within an hour, I was done.
With a triumphant swagger, I walked back into her room and settled into her closet for old times’ sake, needing the familiar smell of her clothes to waft over me like a calming waterfall, cleansing away the dirt of the past days.