Prologue
Dawson
When life becomes a replay of deceit, despair and hurt that spirals out of control, how do you stop the ride before it ruins everything that has ever mattered to you? Do you take the risk?
Everyone has a special person in their lives, right? That one figure you're meant to look up to as you’re growing up in life. But how do you determine to define someone as special?
Would you say it's being there for a child at bedtime? Would you say it's picking them up when they cry or fall over? Or even just hearing about their day? That's what I see as a special person; someone who's there at every opportunity, no matter the reason. A mother or father figure, perhaps.
I don't remember anything about my mother to be honest, just the stories he told me of her, but it was all I had to grasp onto. That's if what he said held any truth. I was told she just left one day when I was a young boy and never returned from the shops.Who would do that to a child? Well, apparently, she did, but then I only have his word to go on.
I only had my father, but he wasn't who I'd class as that special person in my life. My aunt took that role, until she passed away. I don't remember ever having a meal together at the dining table or sharing a game of ball on the pitch on a Sunday teatime. The only thing I do have flashbacks of is him speeding up the street in his dark green Bugatti, wearing a pristine Prada suit. His hand waving behind his shoulder as he cruised off, showing off his signet ring, laced with a diamond on his index finger.
Instead of Father, I knew him as Stone Parker. Suited and booted, Wall Street stockbroker – one of the big bad wolves of Manhattan, New York.
A man who held power in the tip of his fingertips; who would've crushed any person who stood in his way. He was ruthless, a highflyer who had the city placed in the bottom of his jacket pocket and with one word he could've ignited a crash in the world we knew. People were safe as long as you understand who you were dealing with; if you didn't, then you were a loose thread waiting to be cut free. The difference was, Stone liked to toy around with people. When that problem would be rectified and how could be anyone’s guess. The word on the grapevine was that if a problem existed, Stone Parker would solve it without breaking a sweat. Arson to make a person disappear was not an issue. He was in deep with anyone that could make a difference in his empire, but ensuring a blind eye and you kept your mouth firmly closed was in your best interest.
A stockbroker to the public eye but in reality, a man running the life of a criminal mastermind.I grew up with the knowledge that Stone always had weapons within arm’s reach as a necessity, not a precaution. Never knowing when someone may have a death wish. The constant unknown of when he’d leave without a word became a constant occurrence in my daily life. The man who got whatever he wanted with no questions asked. Until I refused to conform to his ways, destroying my heart in the process like it was a simple flip of a coin.
But now I’m stronger, more ruthless. I learnt the hard way. I’d never become his second in command and the ruthless man he was, no matter what he threw at me. Stone Parker holds a grudge but forgets I won't roll over either. The past will always return at some point, just when you least expect it.
Daddy dearest, the games are just beginning… Or so I thought.
1
Dawson
Iundid the top button from my designer white shirt and loosened the tie from around the collar of my neck, allowing it to fall over my shoulders as I shook the stiffened luxury fabric open. It felt like heaven as I ran my fingers around my neckline, grateful for the reprieve – the escape. I hoped it would help cool me down quicker, but it didn't. Instead, the sweat was determined to perfuse from my pores and cling to the fabric.
I dived for the pitcher of lemon infused water that had been placed onto my mahogany desk in front of me and poured a large glass full. I pulled the glass towards my dry lips whilst I swiped my tongue across the top to moisten them before I gulped down the water, letting it trickle down my throat in waves of cool freshness. I gulped the contents down like I had been stuck in the Sahara Desert for days, unknowing when I would taste the glorious liquid again, without even stopping for a breath. I was greedy and desperate with an unknown bout of thirst. It didn’t help that the air-con was broken. Someone really needed to sort out the damn heat in this place.
“Ah, I needed that,” I gasped into the empty room, grabbing my breath back in short sharp bursts as I wiped my mouth with a serviette. Candy, my assistant, had actually remembered to have them placed with the jug this time.
Last time I had to remind her about the importance of the damn things. It was all about the detail with clients, one wrong move and they’d search for a weakness. In business, that game was to be avoided wherever possible. Candy had a sharp mind, but the simple amenities seemed a struggle for her to remember at times. It caused her to feel she always had to apologize. Maybe that was because the assistant prior to her managed all but four days before she ran crying from my office. I couldn't help the fact the pressure got to her. It wasn't easy being my assistant, I’d even made it clear at the bloody interview.Typical fucking staff. I tell you; you can't find good ones.
Fucking weather. The weather in the United Kingdom was the bane of my life. I was able to cope with most things since I’d started living here, but this drove me goddamn crazy. You would think after three years I'd be used to it, but nope. It could be freezing one day, and a bloody heat wave the next; the broadcaster rarely predicted it correctly. Just like today, it was forecasted to rain, hence my heavy signature woolen jacket. But the blazing hot sun had hit the sky instead.Seriously, how wrong can they get it?
I owned ‘The RP’ conglomerate, a hotel chain spread far and wide, which meant expensive suits were needed daily – a prized bitch for a day like this, when the sweat cascaded down me in buckets. Thankfully, the coat could be discarded, but I was known for the suit. The particular look I had enforced around the office, especially when client meetings were scheduled throughout the day. Authority showed both in the way you spoke to someone and in the way you dressed; without authority, you were a laughing stock in this game. Some may have called me a ruthless twat behind closed doors, even better if they had the nerve to do it to my face. It would have taken guts, but I'd rather that than someone be a pushover. I wouldn't be where I am today otherwise.
At least this afternoon my meetings seemed less packed than normal – I only had Tye Renton, my joint business partner popping in for a board review, then a couple architecture and evaluation meetings. Boring, but necessary in the span of my working week. A breeze, if I did say so myself.What I would fucking give for the hint of one now.
I slammed the phone buzzer with my index finger and leant over the desk, waiting impatiently for Candy to answer the call.She’d better not be slacking. Give me strength.
“You just can't get good staff, nowadays,” I seethed under my breath like a cranky wounded bitch waiting to take their next hit.
I needed someone reliable to undertake my daily tasks. Candy was already on thin ice as it stood, but she’d coped well with my outbursts so far. Somehow, she’d also managed to get Tye singing her praises and wrapped around her little finger, or more likely his dick.
“Mr. Parker…” she spoke cautiously through the receiver to me.
“About fucking time… call maintenance and get this air conditioning unit sorted, now. Whatever is going on, I want it fixed. Now,” I demanded with a curt tone, not giving her a chance to interrupt me.
“Yes, sir,” she replied quickly without falter.
They better sort it out and quick.
Tye stood for the ‘R’ in the ‘RP’. I had fought to flip the letters around, but he had said we weren’t a personal resource company or recruitment sector, then brought his dad, Brendan in to back him up.Ass wipe.
I paced around the room in the hope I could stimulate my own breeze, flapping my arms in the process to make myself cooler, but nothing worked. I admitted defeat and slumped down into my chair as my buzzer alerted me to being needed again.This better be good news.