The line went dead, and William shot down his glass of whiskey before looking out of the windowed bar and watching Tristan continue to shmooze opponents and potential clients. The voice was right, he really didn't know this man. In a cloud of anger, William Block slammed a twenty down on the table and left the bar in search of the business room that held the facsimile machine inside of it. He needed to know what he'd been missing the whole time.

William's head was clouded with annoyance. He hated being the last one to know, it was a Block thing. He felt used, and he didn't like that. William knew that Tristan was outside for at least another two hours, so he didn't bother to be subtle as he stormed into the hotel's business center where sure enough, there sat at the fax machine a stack of documents, at least five inches thick.

Tristan was a king pin in William's original plan. He was reliable, always striving to please William and the Block's many companies however it suited William. He was also the son of the man who held a share for half of Mr. Harrington's company, which William hated with a passion. He hated it because he was blocked out of the deal way back when. Now, instead of having to offer to buy shares or equity, Massie would absorb that percentage into her marriage with Tristan. But, to what extent was too far? To what level was enough enough, that it wasn't worth it anymore when his behaviors were so atrocious?

He had no idea what to expect, but was appreciative that no one else was inside the business center so he didn't have to fake a calm demeanor. William was a good businessman in the way of being able to mask his true feelings - but when it came to his only daughter, he highly doubted he could contain himself. Taking the papers in haste, he grabbed the closest chair which was sitting at the computer desk and blinked twice before beginning to turn through the pages in his hands.

Tristan's name was changed, it appeared through an adoption. Not a big deal, people get remarried all the time. But, this wasn't a remarriage, this was a real adoption. Why would that matter? William's eyebrows raised as he turned to the next page, a report from the foster family he was staying with prior to the Montgomery's adopting him.

It looks like there were three police reports against Tristan Gomes, before he was adopted. One was for stealing valuables from a stranger's home and attempting to run away from police, one was for supplying some sort of pills to sixteen year olds, and the last one was an abuse charge filed by his ex girlfriend who listed physical and mental trauma.

As William continued going through the stack, it only got worse. Records from his doctor's stating continued use and abuse of xanax, percocets, reports of cocaine usage. Stolen vehicles in his name that his adopted father Mr. Montgomery cleared. Possession of firearms in Texas and New York without a gun or firearm license.

Pausing for a second after reading the firearm possession, William turned back to actually read the police report his ex girlfriend had filed against him. Seeing in black and white writing that he had attempted to make her stay, threatening her with a handgun, William held back bile before grabbing his cell phone and trying to call Massie. He knew she had no idea about any of this, and needed to warn her to stay calm and normal until he could figure out how to sort this mess out.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hi, honey. Where are you right now?"

Massie exchanged a glance with Derrick, who was sitting beside her on the lounge chairs the resort had around the empty pool. The pair was currently getting some sun, with two cold glasses of white wine, but if she told her father they were here and alone, he would lose it.

"Massie, where are you?"

"Oh, I'm just at the pool, why?"

"We have to talk...about a lot of things."

"About what, daddy?"

Massie asked, her voice dripping with sweet confusion. Inside, her heart was pounding with every breath she took. All of a sudden, her hands were clammy and her chanel hand cream couldn't fix that. Her lips lost all their moisture, and her dior lip balm wouldn't solve it. He knew about her and Derrick, and it was a matter of time until Tristan did too.

"We need to talk about Tristan. I'm coming home soon, and we will discuss it then. I'll be home in three days."

"I thought you were staying until next week?"

"I've changed my mind, it appears. See you soon."

Fiery amber eyes met puppy dog brown ones beside her, belonging to the boy currently leaning over his lounge chair to listen in on her and her father's conversation. He looked like he had seen a ghost, pale and confused and wanting to get everything over with as soon as he possibly could.

"What do you think he has to say?"

"There's only one way to find out, unfortunately."

"At least we have until he comes back Thursday morning," Derrick sighed.

"Yeah, at least. I just…..I wonder why he wants to see me, it's weird."

"He told you nothing over the phone?"

"Absolutely nothing, besides the fact that it's about Tristan."

"I really wonder why, though. Aren't they together right now?"

"Of course, his protigee is with him at all fucking times."

"Do you think he knows, Mass?"
"It...it's possible. I doubt it, but with William, I never know."

Derrick had booked Massie a spa day the next morning, knowing in the next three days things were going to get very messy for her. They shared a breakfast together in the restaurant downstairs comprised of french toast with strawberries and farm fresh egg and pepper omelettes, then Massie paraded off to the spa while Derrick was catching up on some work emails he had missed. As he was replying to one of his staff's proposals, his iPhone began to buzz.

"Hello?"

"Hi Derrick, how's your vacation?"
"It's good, Dad. Did you see Jeremy's proposal for the next fiscal year?"

"Oh yeah, guy's a genius. But, that isn't why I'm calling."

"Oh, what's up? Is everything okay? It's not your heart again, is it?"

"No no, I'm okay. Well, not really. Derrick, did you know about Montgomery's son?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Tristan. My partner's son, who is currently holding twenty five percent equity in our company. Do you know anything about him?"

"Uhm, no, not really, I've met him like twice, he seemed decent, but I don't think he knows who I am in relation to you, and I would like to keep it that way. Why?"

"I think Massie is in trouble. I didn't know about him, and quite frankly I didn't care. But, his father has started making some really shady dealings, and I had my private investigator do some digging because there is something off. Turns out, I was right. Now, you know how I feel about anything William Block does, but I also know you still have a soft spot for Massie and I think you need to know. There's a lot of criminal background with him, and I'm nervous for her."

"What kind of criminal background?"

The chair he was sitting in at the restaurant that overlooked miles and miles of green acreage felt like it was vibrating underneath of him. Derrick's arms began to sweat at the thought. He always knew something was wrong, and from what Massie had already told him, he wasn't far off. But this, this was news he knew Massie didn't even know about. This just meant that they needed to go forward with their plan sooner rather than later, which he still wasn't sure what their plan was. There's still a lot of variables up in the air that he and Massie and Chris and Dylan were trying to pretend weren't there, for the time being.

"I'm talking about him stealing, dealing, and illegal possession of firearms in two states with a history of abuse, physical and mental. And, threatening with those firearms."

"Holy shit. How did you not know any of this?!"

"His father had it expunged, purged from his record so when my team was searching for him and his family it came up clean. But not only am I concerned about Massie, he owns half of this company, Derrick. Half of your company. When his father passes, he absorbs that half."

"What the FUCK, DAD?" Derrick yelled into his phone.

He couldn't even attempt to hide the anger he felt. He understood that Mr. Montgomery had all the records purged, but if his dad was able to get them now, why couldn't he of before they went into a multi million dollar business? This was absurd. And now, on top of his own drug issues, he's got a knack for guns? God, she really picked a gem, he thought to himself.

"I have to plan with my team to figure out how I can get this company back. For now, just watch out for Bill's daughter, okay?"

"You got it."

Soft clapping, throwing arms around each other, swiping american express cards for beers and sticking dollar bills in the caddy's pockets. The fresh open air, soft sounds of the birds in trees flapping their wings to escape as golf balls came soaring through the sky, and the pressure of everyone's eyes on you secretly hoping you'll fail. That, my dear, is golf tournaments with your competitors and colleagues.

Tristan's palms gripped the handle, moist and warm and hoping he wouldn't fuck up this turn or William would surely have his ass. He winded up, he shot, he watched the ball sink itself into the hole and let out a sigh of relief as his competitors clapped for him and shook William's hand, making fake trades and barters about taking Tristan for their own tournament teams next year.

Turning back to the group of men in their Sunday best golf attire, Tristan handed off his golf club to one of the caddys and excused himself to the restroom. He moseyed his way into the hotel, following the black and white signs for the bathroom. Winding down a hallway that had glass walls, he watched as one of the Block's biggest competitors prepped for his turn. Pushing the restroom door open, he closed it softly behind him and flipped the lock before going straight to the black marble countertops.

Tristan quickly took out his wallet, pulling a slim zip lock baggy out of one of the pockets and lining the countertop with white powder. Once it was angled appropriately, he knelt down and held one nostril as the other filled with the substance. He breathed in deeply, then exhaled and stood back up to look at himself in the mirror.

To be the best in the game, you have to fit in with the rest. Now William may be extremely anti-drug, but that doesn't mean all of his competition and even staff felt the same way. As Tristan saw fit, he needed to blend in with the rest of the wall street workers with any means necessary. He wasn't a saint, but typically pills were more his usual route.

Dusting the remainder of powder off of his nose, Tristan went to one of the stalls and flushed the toilet. Then, ran back to the sink and washed his hands, acting like nothing happened once the traces of his substance was gone. He unlocked the door and exited the bathroom with a smug grin on his face, straightening out his shirt and tucking his wallet back into the front pocket of his khaki trousers.

He fished for his iPhone, checking to see what missed notifications he had. He saw a message from Massie a half hour ago saying that she was going to get a massage, which he responded to with a 'can't wait to see u soon, have fun, love you. Will text you when we wrap up.' Tucking it back into his pocket, he walked back out onto the green to continue trying to impress William's competitors.