CH 9: Judas (30 Pieces of Silver)
The sun hasn't even broken and yet, Paul was already in his trailer. He drowned himself in his work. He practically signed off on everything, though he didn't take in a single word. At this point, his body was on autopilot. He hasn't seen or spoken to Sarah since the fight. Paul continued down this rabbit hole until every last document in his tray was processed. And with nothing more to do, and nowhere else to go, Paul began thinking. And that did not end well. He couldn't get over the fact that Sarah had lied to him, for eight fucking years!
A knock sounded at the door. It was Manny.
"Hey, Paul." Manny handed him a file, "The concrete bricks that we're using, are they by any chance made from recycled materials?"
"I don't know." Paul said flatly. "Why?"
"We randomly selected a few for quality assurance purposes. And each and every single one of them failed the inspection. They might as well be fucking Lego bricks. They couldn't even withstand a compressive pressure of 4000 psi; the minimum safety requirement needed."
Paul grabbed the file, and said, "I'll handle it, Emmanuel."
"You're not listening, Paul, this is serious. We can't —"
"I said I'll fucking handle it!" Paul screamed, "Now get out!"
Manny didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled to get out the door.
Paul shot up, and he flipped his desk over in a fit of rage. He kicked, punched, and stomped on everything within his warpath.
Paul stood there, with his fist balled, and he trembled violently. Sarah Manning Black had made a fool out of him!
Paul grabbed his car keys, and shot out the trailer.
- o -
"The money was just wired. You'll receive a notification momentarily."
"Excellent news indeed, Mr. Rosen." Ethan Wang said ecstatically, "Like I said, easy money."
"We'll speak soon."
The call disconnected..
Daniel could not be more pleased. And Ethan Wang was definitely worth every penny; no wonder he came so highly recommended. Phase One of the Emerald City project was near completion, and Phase Two was set to commence within the coming weeks. In this calendar year alone, Daniel had managed to siphon $800,000 from the project by simply swapping out the brand name materials for generic brands. And like Ethan Wang said, they weren't cutting corners, by any means.
The moment the funding had cleared, and was safely in his pockets, the first thing Daniel did was reinvest it in the form of bearer bond. It was his best option. The money couldn't be traced, and it afforded him anonymity. There was $800,000 worth of bearer bonds sitting in a safety deposit box in TD Canada. It wasn't under his name, of course. He was smarter than that. Or at least, he liked to think so.
If he knew just how lucrative this endeavor was, he would've dipped his hand in the cookie jar much sooner. But there was no point dwelling on the past. If the Emerald City project goes off without a hitch, Daniel was certain he'll have many more opportunities to manage several more of Black Crown Corp.'s upcoming projects. Patience was a virtue, and it was a virtue he possessed.
Daniel was in a good mood, but all that changed when he entered his office, and there, seated comfortably in his chair, was Rachel. "Honey. What's wrong?"
Rachel threw the USB down.
Daniel's eyes widened in disbelief. "Where did you get that?"
Rachel asked pointedly, "Why the fuck do you have all these videos of Paul?"
Daniel inhaled sharply, and he lied through his teeth; it was one of his greatest talents. "It's not what you think. Let me explain. One of the security guards that worked here had been recording Paul's indiscretions. The footage was pretty damning. And he essentially wanted to blackmail Black Crown Corp. with it. I took the initiative and I bought the raw footage."
Rachel's lips thinned, and her nostrils flared. "Where's this guard now?"
"In the Maldives somewhere."
"Why did you hide this from me, Daniel?" Rachel asked, "Have you forgotten that I am your wife?"
Daniel pleaded, "Look, honey, I handled the situation the best way I saw fit. And there was no point telling you, because, well, it's none of our business."
"Bullshit!" Rachel barked, "That's my sister Paul is cheating on. Of course I have the right to know!"
"No. This is between Sarah and Paul. If I had told you about this, you've confronted Paul, and then what? Do you really want Kira to grow up as a child of divorce?"
Rachel wasn't pleased.
"I've already spoken to Paul. He'll sit down, and he'll tell Sarah the truth. But on their own terms. Not ours. It's their marriage. Let them handle it." Daniel grabbed the USB, "I never intended for you to see this. And I would've destroyed it, too, but only after Sarah and Paul have had their talk."
Rachel's expression lightened, but only slightly. "Do not go behind my back again, Daniel. I do not appreciate it."
Daniel pulled his wife in, and he kissed her on the lips, "I'm sorry, dear. It won't happen again."
Rachel grabbed the USB, "I'm keeping this."
And with that, Rachel exited his office.
When that door closed, Daniel practically keeled over. He's had his fair share of lies, but never has he ever managed to come up with such an elaborate lie on the spot like that before.
- o -
Daniel's explanation was thin, at best. Rachel had her suspicions, but she'll have to speak with Sarah first, before she jumped to any conclusions. When Rachel got back to her own office, there was a surprise guest awaiting her. Rachel hasn't seen her youngest sister in weeks. At first glance, Rachel noticed that Cosima was visibly thinner.
Cosima fidgeted with her glasses. Rachel could tell she was nervous, so she gave her a break, and decided to break the first word. "I owe you an apology, Cosima. I should've never gone behind your back, and accepted Kára Lang's proposal. I hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry."
"No." Cosima exhaled heavily, "I'm sorry I made you make those hard choices, and then blame you for them. You did what you thought was best for the company. And I totally understand that, Rach, I just wished it wasn't her. Not after what she did, to me."
Cosima's words struck a chord with Rachel.
"I know it isn't easy to be CEO. Mother would be so proud of you, Rach, if she knew the wonders you were doing with the company." Cosima smiled weakly, "Sometimes it really does pay to the rut of the litter, huh?"
The two sisters had cleared the air, and their ill feelings cast aside. In the end, they were sisters; and blood was always thicker than water.
Cosima suggested, "I think we should hug it out."
And they did.
"You know, you've still got to make nice with Sarah."
"I know. And I will. Will you come back?" Rachel asked. "The house just hasn't been the same without you around."
"There's no place like home." Cosima grinned. "But I'm meeting Shay for dinner later tonight. I'll most likely crash at her place afterwards. But don't change the locks. I'll be back."
For the first time in a long while, Rachel genuinely smiled.
"Oh, and Cosima, before I forget."
"Yeah?"
"Very funny. But don't mess with my chair setting again. You know I don't like it when people touch my stuff."
Cosima furrowed her brows, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Rach."
"Sure you don't."
Now that Rachel has settled things with Cosima, she could rest a bit easier. She inspected the tiny USB stick. Then there was still the matter of Sarah and Paul.
- o -
The moment Cosima hauled Donnie's broken ass home, and Alison first laid eyes on her husband, her eyeballs practically dislodged from its socket. Alison could not believe her eyes; neither could the rest of the family. Donnie stuck with his cover story, and with Cosima there to back him up, they didn't pester him too much about the details of the assault. Thank God for that.
The doctors didn't want to discharge Donnie, but he left anyways, against medical advice. They prescribed him Fentanyl, to be administered every other day, to help ease the pain. And plenty of bed rest, too. And that's exactly what he's been doing since. Donnie was in pain, but it didn't hinder his mobility, but Alison wasn't having any of it. She was at his beck and call. Alison did everything within her power to keep Donnie off his feet. Alison was a good wife. Donnie could tell she was concerned, and it pained him to see her like that.
Donnie swore on all that is Holy, that if he should ever dig himself out of the hole he's in now, he'll give up gambling all together. In some ways, the beating was a wakeup call. But be that as it may, he still needed to right his wrongs. Donnie didn't want to lose Alison, and that's exactly what will happen if she ever found out that he emptied all their savings. They weren't strapped for cash, but the amount that he lost, it was a huge chunk of change; it was nothing to scoff about.
But Donnie had a plan. It wasn't perfect, but it was worth a shot. It's the only shot he's got, and he was going to take it.
It was midday, and nobody else was home. Alison had taken time off from work to care for him. Donnie purposefully withheld a prescription, and it was the perfect time to enact this plan.
"Honey!"
"What's wrong?"
Donnie handed her the doctor's note. "It's my prescription for Codeine. I must have forgotten about it."
"Oh." Alison thought nothing of it. "Do you need it now?"
"Yeah. The doctor said I should take it with my Fentanyl, when the pain becomes intolerable." Donnie put on a show, and he squirmed in pain. "My lower back is killing me right now."
"Alright. Give me half an hour, and I'll pick this up for you."
"Thank you."
Donnie's lips were still swollen, so Alison kissed his forehead instead. "I'll be right back."
Alison didn't leave for another fifteen minutes. And even then, Donnie waited several minutes afterwards, until he was certain she was gone.
Donnie grabbed his crutches, and he hobbled down the hallway to Alison's office.
There, in the corner, on the bookshelf, was a fire-resistant safe. It was small. It wasn't anything impressive, but it did the job. The safe held no money, only original copies of legal documentations. With one free hand, Donnie turned the dial one full circle to the right, and then two full circles to the left, and lastly, he stopped the dial on the last digit. The combination was their wedding date.
Donnie pulled out a stack of papers, and began to rummage through each and every single one, until he found what he was looking for. It wasn't hard. He knew for a fact that Alison kept it here. When he got what he needed, he stuffed everything back in, and secured the safe.
Donnie stuffed the document in his drawer. Then he picked up his phone, and he made a call.
- o -
Delphine hasn't been home in ages. Although at this point, she didn't know where home was exactly, given her situation. She grew up in Longueuil, Quebec. A lot of her extended family were still there. But that's not where she was headed. After her meet up with Arthur Bell, Delphine took a personal day, and she drove eight hour to Burlington, Vermont. That's where her mother resided, after a coup within the board had forced her to vacate her position, in light of what happened.
The house was grand and prestigious, though it held no sentimental value to her. Delphine missed her mother, dearly, though she doubt her mother will share the same sentiment.
Delphine found her mother in her study. She was painting.
"Hello, mother."
"Oh, Delphine. What a pleasant surprise."
Évelyne Marie Léa Cormier was a woman well into her seventies, though she didn't look a day older than fifty. The air that surrounded her, and the way she spoke, it exuded confidence.
Delphine hasn't seen her mother in more than a year's time, though she hasn't changed much. For one thing, her arrogance hasn't softened one bit. She's still going about her life, like everything was rainbows and butterflies, and freaking unicorns.
"When you stepped away from the business, and I asked you how bad it was, you looked me in the eyes, and you lied to me."
Évelyne gave a light shrug, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Delphine threw down a thick binder; it was the one Arthur Bell had given her. "This, mother! You're really going to sit there, and continue your bald-faced lie? I had the displeasure of going through that, and you're up to your eyeballs in shit! The SEC has you down for embezzlement, bookmaking, insider trading, and the list goes on! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Évelyne snapped, "Do not use that language on me!"
Delphine threw her head back and scoffed, "This was a mistake. I should've never agreed to work for the SEC. I should've never agreed to help your sorry ass. I should've let you crash and burn."
"A bit melodramatic today, are we?"
"You ungrateful cunt!" Delphine spat, "I've sacrificed my career, my name, my body, and my life, just so I can keep your haggard ass out of jail, and that's all you have to say to me?! I am out there, and I am destroying people's lives with my lies! I am tearing their family apart. I can't even tell the woman I like, that I like her, because everything there is about me is a God damn lie! And all because I chose to save you! You've ruined your own life. And you have so much poison in you, mother, that you've ruined mine, too."
In a calm and collected manner, Évelyne said, "I never put a gun to your head, Delphine. Everything you did, you did on your own accord. So please, stop your petulant whining."
The scornful look on Delphine just about said it all. "The day you left daddy for that man, you stopped being my mother. I was just too fucking naïve to see it."
"Your father was the one that gave you a share in the business, sweetie. If you have anyone to blame, blame him."
Delphine was repulsed by her own flesh and blood. "You were his wife. He trusted you. And all you ever did was steal from him."
"Just remember this: if I sink, you sink with me." Évelyne cupped Delphine's face, and kissed her on both cheeks. "You'll have to excuse me now. You can show yourself out."
That poisonous woman was her mother.
Delphine was suffocating; the burden of guilt was much too heavy.
This was so wrong, on so many levels.
- o -
The Corvette swerved to the far left, and for more than thirty seconds, drove in the oncoming traffic lane. The point of the dangerous maneuver was so Paul could overtake the cars in front of him. There were only two lanes. And both vehicles were going below the speed limit. Paul didn't have time for their granny-style driving. The risk was not worth the gain. It could all end disastrously for him, but in his tipsy mind, he couldn't care less.
Paul was still in the wrong lane. But once his car had overtaken the two vehicles, without so much as a warning, or a turn signal, Paul flipped the bird, and cut across the two lanes, and threw a sharp right turn. The two cars slammed their brakes and just barely avoided the Corvette Stingray. The chain effect was instantaneous: multiple vehicles collided with each other. There were more than ten vehicles affected in that one pile up.
The day had come and gone, and Paul's emotions had gone on a roller coaster ride from Hell. But the day wasn't over yet. The Corvette Stingray pulled into the private driveway with a halting screech. And there, on the front lawn, were three unmistakable suitcases. At the sight of that, Paul's rage had piqued; it reached its boiling point.
The locks hasn't been changed yet. Paul bolted up the stairs, and made a beeline for his bedroom in the east wing. He found Sarah in the walk-in closet.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
"I want you gone."
"You hypocritical bitch! You cheated on me, just as much as I cheated on you, and you have the audacity to throw me out?!"
Sarah said nothing.
"Oh, but wait. I forgot. You're worse than I am. You hear me?! Worse!" Paul got physical, and he made Sarah look him in the eyes. "You had me raise another man's child, thinking that she was mine! For eight years!"
Sarah didn't back down. She repeated herself, "I want you gone!"
"Who?!" Paul screamed, "I want to know who!"
"No."
"Who was he?! Look me in the eyes, and say his fucking name!"
Sarah didn't want to do this. She slapped his hand away, and made for the door.
"We're not done! Get back here!" Paul laid his hands on Sarah, and he violently shoved her against the dresser. "WHO?! SAY HIS NAME!"
"NO!"
"You whore!"
With no hesitation nor guilt, Paul punched Sarah in the stomach.
Sarah dropped to her knees. She kneeled there, with a sick to her stomach sensation, and she dry heaved.
"WHO?! SAY IT!"
Sarah couldn't so much as breathe, much less talk.
Paul then grabbed Sarah by her thick locks, and he bashed her head against the same dresser, again and again, and again. And through it all, he kept yelling, "WHO?!"
"STOP IT!" From the doorway came a terrified Kira. She overheard her parents yelling from down the hallway, and what she saw in the closet frightened her. "You're hurting her!"
Paul stopped his assault, though he didn't relent. "This is your last chance to come clean. Just tell me his name. You owe it to me! Say it!"
Sarah laid there, unresponsive.
Paul raised his fist, and was ready to strike.
"Daddy!"
At that exact moment, Kira jumped in front of Paul, and she used her own body to shield Sarah's. Paul wanted to bring his fist down, and strike Kira. And he would have, too, if not for the little girl crying out for her daddy. Paul froze at the sight of Kira, balling her eyes out for her daddy to stop hurting her mommy. Kira was different; it wasn't anything he's ever seen before. She was scared of him. His daughter of eight years, the girl whom he raised as a baby, had fear in her eyes when she saw her daddy.
Paul muffled a sob in his bloodied hands. He turned, and he ran as fast and far as he could, away from his child, and his wife.
Kira sat there with an unconscious Sarah, and she cried hysterically.
But then a familiar sound caught the girl's ear. It was her mother's phone. It was in her back pocket. Kira recognized the picture on the caller ID, and she picked up immediately.
"Auntie Rachel! Help!"
- o -
Life isn't perfect. Too much has happened lately, and Cosima found herself struggling to stay afloat amidst quicksand. She couldn't even count the number of things that was wrong with her life right now, and that included the kiss she shared with Delphine; her sister-in-law. It did not slip Cosima's mind. And since that kiss, she hasn't seen the blonde. Nor could she stop replaying it in her head. And the worst thing about that kiss? It felt right. Cosima knew it was wrong. It felt wrong, too. But it also felt so right.
Cosima needed a distraction. And that's where Shay came in. Shay called her up, and insisted they meet for dinner. She was specific about the time and date. She didn't say why, but then again, Shay was eccentric like that.
The dinner was enjoyable. It gave Cosima a chance to wind down, and just be herself. When she was with Shay, she could be herself, and not the Cosima Niehaus Black that everyone knew, and expected her to be.
"You know, when you invite someone to dinner, they don't usually have this sullen look on their face." Cosima said observantly. "You haven't even touched your food. I mean, it's not Michelin star, but it's not that bad."
Shay lost her appetite. This was one of the hardest thing she's ever had to do. She didn't want to. She really didn't. But Kára Lang has that effect on you. With her, you never have a choice. And this was one of those instances. They were halfway through dinner. The dosage was small. And the effect wasn't immediate. It was now, or never.
"I'm going to grab a drink. Would you like something from the bar?"
"Just grab a waiter. They'll bring it for you."
"No." Shay said nonchalantly, "I want to speak with the bartender. You want anything?"
Cosima thought for a moment, with the fork still in her mouth. "I don't feel like anything. But whatever it is you're having, I'll have one, too."
"Okay."
Shay ordered two Disaronno and coke, with lemon, on the rocks. It was her favorite drink. It wasn't nearly strong enough for her taste, but the amaretto liquor would help mask the aftertaste of the pill. It wasn't a difficult drink to mix. The bartender served up the drinks in no time.
When no one was looking, Shay dropped a single pill into the right glass. The pill immediately began to fizzle and dissolve. Shay gave the glass a light swirl, to evenly mask the bubbles. It was a low dosage of Flunitrazepam, or as it's more commonly known as, Rohypnol. Rohypnol is often prescribed as a sedative. It was also a feared date rape drug for girls.
Shay made her way back to the table, and she purposely handed Cosima the drink on the right.
"Cheers."
Cosima raised her glass, "Cheers."
Shay watched behind her own glass, as Cosima consumed a mouthful of the spiked beverage.
"Woah. That's good. A bit tangy, but good."
Cosima went for seconds, and practically drained the glass.
Shay made a mental note of the time, and began a countdown timer in her head.
When they finally emerged from the restaurant, Cosima was noticeably wobbly in her steps. She thought she was tipsy, but Shay knew better.
"I only had that one drink. And I feel like I'm drunk already.
Shay held Cosima steady. "I don't think you should drive. Come on, let's grab a taxi."
Cosima attempted to shake the blurriness from her vision. And that's when a sense of hardened déjà vu hit her. This sensation, it was all too familiar. The realization came hurling back to her. At the masquerade party, when she was drugged with GHB. This was the exact same sensation!
Cosima had to tell Shay. She wanted to tell Shay to call 9-1-1. But she couldn't. She was on the verge of unconsciousness; her limbs were heavier than dead weights.
A car honked its horn at them. "Need a ride?"
Even in the semi-conscious state she was in, Cosima recognized that voice. It was Kára Lang.
"Let's go, Cosima." Shay eased her into the awaiting car. "Get in."
Cosima wanted to protest. She desperately wanted to voice her objection. But she couldn't. She couldn't do a single thing.
The door slammed shut.
Cosima's head was on Shay's shoulder. She was barely conscious. The last thing she remembered was Kára Lang, with her head turned around. And she said, "Hello, Cosima."
This time, Delphine wasn't there to save her.
- o -
A/N: Take a penny, leave a penny.
