CH 8: Drama, Drama, Drama
"Now watch me whip. Now watch me Nae Nae." Kira jumped, and she bopped, and she grooved with the tune of the beat. "Now watch me Superman!"
Paul ran a towel over his damp hair, when he walked in on his eight year old daughter bouncing around the TV.
"What are you doing, sweetheart?"
"Dancing." Kira said, "I saw them do a flash mob of this song on Youtube."
Paul lifted Kira up, and sat her down on his lap. He gave her a quick once over. Kira's cheeks were rosy, and her energy level was back up again. The medication Dr. Schultz prescribed had worked wonderfully.
"Wanna dance with me, Daddy?"
Paul smiled, "Only if you teach me."
"It's not that hard!"
Kira hopped off, and began dancing once more.
Paul followed Kira's lead, but only halfheartedly. It wasn't the dance he treasured, but their time together. He loved Kira more than anything in this world. And every time he thought about Kira, he can't help but think about Claire Hatcher. She was nothing more than a mistake. A prolonged mistake, but a mistake, nonetheless. Paul knew what he had to do. He had to protect his family. He had to sever all ties with Claire. Paul had already made up his mind. He was going to buy Claire's silence, and with it, the termination of her pregnancy, too.
"Daddy!" Kira whined, "It's called the Superman. You have to pretend like you're flying in the air."
The father-daughter duo were rudely interrupted by Paul's phone. It was a text from Claire. At the sight of the caller ID, Paul's face darkened.
What Paul didn't realize was Sarah's presence. She had been watching their interaction from the very beginning. She didn't miss the subtle change in Paul's demeanor when he received that text.
"Everything alright?"
Paul jumped at the sound of Sarah's voice, but quickly recovered. "Yeah. There was an incident at the Emerald City site, and Manny wants me to drop by."
"Now? At this hour?"
"I'll be back in no time." Paul gave Kira, and Sarah, a quick peck.
Paul rushed into the bedroom to change.
And before she knew it, he was out the door.
Paul hadn't left for more than five minutes when Sarah's phone rang. The coincidence was uncanny. And maybe, just maybe, it was a coincidence at all.
It wasn't a text Sarah received. It was a picture. And it's true what they say: a picture is worth a thousand words. This one picture left a devastating effect, more powerful than a thousand words.
It was from an unknown number. But that wasn't the cause for Sarah's dismay.
- o -
When Delphine first proposed a girls' night out, Cosima honestly thought they were going to let their hair down, and paint the town red. What she didn't expect was Delphine to drive her to her suburban condo apartment. It wasn't because Cosima felt uncomfortable in Delphine's presence. No. It was the complete opposite. Cosima felt comfortable with her, maybe a bit too much.
In the elevator ride, Cosima noticed Delphine enter a passcode into the panel, and then and only then, was she able to press for the penthouse suite.
"Felix wasn't kidding when he said you were loaded, was he?"
"My mother's rich. I'm merely well off, is all."
The elevator opened right into her apartment. It wasn't something you see too often, well, anywhere, and Cosima made a point of that.
"Holy Watershed, Batman. This place is like the Wayne Manor, but you know, if Bruce Wayne lived in a condo."
The apartment was stylish and spacious, but yet somehow, it seemed impersonal and cold. There was no personal touch besides the basic generic decorations.
It was as if Delphine had heard Cosima's unvoiced observation. "I don't come here often. It's my secret getaway when I feel stressed and claustrophobic."
Cosima wandered around the bachelor flat with a sense of curiosity and wonder. The place had a panoramic view of downtown Toronto, and a distant outline of the CN Tower, that was to die for.
"You want a glass of wine?"
"Sure." Cosima accepted the glass, "Do you need any help? I can't cook to save my life, but I'm super handy with a can opener."
"All I want for you to do is relax, Cosima. I invited you to this dinner date. I wouldn't be a very good hostess if I made you cook." Delphine gave a mischievous smirk, "Besides, Felix told me about the time you tried making Kira homemade sweet potato fries."
"He told you?!"
"Well, to be fair, so did Alison. So if you'll pardon me, I don't really fancy a grease fire, with the off chance that we'll both die painfully and agonizingly, from a house fire."
"Geez. This took a dark turn." Cosima drank deep from her glass. "Has Felix ever been here?"
"No." Delphine answered truthfully, "You're the first guest I've had here in quite a while. I love Felix, I do, but this is my sanctuary to get away from the madness."
Cosima couldn't agree more. "My family is the pinnacle definition of madness, so I don't blame you. We can have our own special on Dr. Phil, or Jerry Springer, or Maury. Pick one."
"Have a seat. Dinner is served."
"Already?" Cosima looked up at the time, "It hasn't even been half an hour."
"Are you usually this chatty when you're nervous?"
Cosima cocked an eyebrow, "Is it that obvious?"
Delphine grinned, "I think you're forgetting about my amazeball, superpower of deduction, as you so eloquently put it."
Cosima's heart did a somersault. Those were her exact words, and Delphine remembered; she actually remembered!
Fresh off the stove top, Delphine served up a steaming hot bowl of macaroni and cheese, with pieces of hot dog cut up. And it wasn't gourmet mac and cheese either, it was Kraft Dinner, with its infamous orange cheese.
Cosima couldn't help herself as the biggest smile graced her lips, and her brown eyes lit up brightly. "How did you know?"
"Alison talks. A lot. She told me that this was your most favorite thing in the world. Your mother used to make it for the family, before you came into money."
"There's five of us: Rachel, Alison, Sarah, me, and Felix. My mom had to really stretch a dollar thin to feed us all." There was a hint of sadness behind Cosima's eyes. "May I?"
"Please." Delphine gestured, "Be my guest."
Cosima scooped up a spoon full, and in a child-like fashion, she chowed down. The liquidly cheese mixed with the al dente macaroni, and the saltiness of the hot dog to finish it off, was the perfect combination. The sensation brought a warmth to Cosima's stomach, unlike anything she's ever felt before.
Delphine watched on with an equally bright smile, as Cosima devoured that bowl of mac and cheese with delight. That was another thing Delphine liked about Cosima. She wasn't the least bit pretentious. She was down to Earth, and enjoyed the little things in life. Delphine could've fed her surf and turf, truffles, caviar, or even foie gras, and she wouldn't be as happy as she is now, with a $3 bowl of mac and cheese. And for that, Delphine couldn't help but fall for Cosima a little bit more.
As the night winded down, and several more glasses of wine later, both Cosima and Delphine let loose, and simply enjoyed the company of each other. They had a lot in common, more so than they initially realized. They were both twenty-eight, which meant they grew up in the 90's, and had the same interest and obsessions as kids. And then they talked about Hey Arnold, Doug, Recess, Animaniacs, and who can forget Rugrats and Dexter's Laboratory! They spent a good amount of time arguing about Arthur. And just what the Hell he was. They were both in agreement that between Pinkie and the Brain, Pinkie was definitely the genius. And they both had their own conspiracy theories about who really shot Mr. Burns.
By the end of the night, Cosima's mood had lightened considerably, and her previous drama temporarily forgotten.
Cosima was tipsy, but even so, her mindset remained intact. "It's getting late. I should probably go."
"Oh." Delphine grabbed her reddened cheeks, "I'm so sorry, Cosima, but I don't think I can drive you."
"Don't be silly. I'll just hail a taxi. Or an Uber." Cosima thought for a second, "Probably a taxi. All my Uber drivers have been uber creepy thus far." And then she giggled, "See what I did there?"
"Please, don't go. I insist. You can take the bed. I don't want you going anywhere, not like this."
"No. Really. Don't worry —"
And that's when Delphine grabbed Cosima's hand.
Through nobody's fault, the moment their hands touched, inexplicably, their fingers intertwined with a mind of its own.
The mere skin on skin contact gave Cosima goosebumps. Her heart jumped into her throat.
No words were exchanged. Nor was there a need for it.
Their bodies were dangerously close.
Delphine dipped down, and captured Cosima's lips.
Cosima was reluctant, as her lips stilled. She didn't know when, or how, but soon she found herself on her tippy toes, as her lips danced away to the tune of their fiery passion.
This went on for what seemed like an eternity, when in reality, only mere minutes passed. But in those few minutes' time, neither Delphine nor Cosima have ever felt this alive and invigorated as they are now.
The ringtone from Cosima's phone was amplified as it echoed off the spacious walls.
The trance was broken.
Delphine stepped back, as her clarity returned.
Cosima straightened her glasses, and cleared her throat. "Excuse me."
On some level, Cosima thanked her lucky stars that her phone interrupted them. If not, she might just regret her irreversible actions. Cosima recognized the number. She barely had a chance to speak, when the caller immediately bombarded her with an overload of information. By the end of the two minute call, all Cosima was able to get out was, "What?!"
- o -
The Black mansion was huge, and it was every bit isolated, solitary, and cold. Rachel hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Not since the day she consciously made the decision to backstab Cosima. To some degree, Paul was right. Rachel's frustration was misplaced. She should have never laid a hand on Sarah. Never. Rachel knew she would rest easier if she apologized, to both siblings. A simple sorry would suffice, and yet, it was easier said than done. Rachel's ego, and pride, prevented her from doing so. It was arrogant, and downright stupid, but she couldn't change that about herself, no matter how hard she tried.
Rachel had plenty of vices, and alcohol was not one of them. But today was a particularly rough day. And so, she indulged herself. Rachel downed shot, after shot, after shot of whiskey, straight. The alcohol burned her insides. The burn felt good. It felt like a deserving punishment, for being such a shitty sister.
When she couldn't bear the loneliness anymore, Rachel ventured about the household. Felix was out with friends. Cosima hasn't been back. Sarah and Paul weren't in their quarters, though she did find Alison with Kira, and apparently on baby sitter duty. Rachel sobered up at the sight of her niece. She didn't linger. She didn't want Kira to see her like this. But before she departed, Rachel gave Kira a kiss goodnight. She loved Kira. Though she and Sarah had their differences, Kira will forever and always be her precious niece.
Four siblings, two brothers-in-law, one sister-in-law, and one niece, and yet, Rachel couldn't be lonelier in her darkest times. It didn't slip Rachel's mind that she had a husband. But much like their marriage, he wasn't dependable. When she needed his comfort the most, he was nowhere to be found. But there was one place Rachel hadn't checked yet: Daniel's study. It was his sacred sanctuary. And she respected that. But tonight, she wasn't in the mood to respect jack-shit.
Rachel made her way down the hallway. She gave the knob a try, and like she expected, it was locked. If she was her usual calm and collected self, she would've looked for the spare key. But not tonight she wasn't. Rachel placed several well timed kicks to the latch of the door. It wasn't sturdy. Nor was it reinforced. The door splintered against the frame, and it came undone.
The lights were off. The whiskey was much stronger than she initially thought. The room was spinning. Rachel grabbed a seat behind Daniel's desk, and she propped her head up, and braced for the worst. She dry heaved, though nothing came up. Rachel then collapsed onto the desk. And when she did, her extended arm accidentally pressed on the keyboard. Daniel's desktop must have been on sleep mode. The moment a key stroke was detected, it sprang back to life. But that wasn't all. The speakers were on. And the study was suddenly filled with sensual moans, groans, grunts, and everything in between.
Rachel thought nothing of it. Men watched porn. It was nothing new. But when her vision finally came into focus, Rachel sobered up instantly. There, on the monitor, was an eight minute clip of Paul with his pants around his ankles, fucking some brunette whore on a copier.
A blast of rage reinvigorated Rachel's intoxicated being, as she shook from the core. Somebody had some explaining to do.
- o -
The hospital was unusually quiet. When Cosima first got the call, she honestly thought she was being pranked. When she approached the reception area, and asked for directions to the emergency unit, the woman behind the desk kissed her teeth with such force and power, it could've blown out a window. Cosima wanted to ask her if she had broccoli stuck in her teeth, but held her tongue, in the interest of time. A few twist and turns later, Cosima was finally at her destination. When she pulled back the curtains to bed #4, she was in for a shocker.
"Holy shit, Donnie! What the fuck happened to your face?!"
Donnie Hendrix had a few open lacerations that required stitches. His left eye was slightly swollen, and so was his lips. He had extensive bruising on his torso. But unlucky for him, if you can call it that, he didn't break anything.
"A guy came up behind me in the parking lot, and he jumped me."
"Did you call the police?! And why isn't Alison here? Let me call her."
"No! Don't!" Donnie shouted, "I've already talked with the police. They think it might be related to a string of muggings on campus recently. They'll handle it. But I don't want Alison to worry. Not with everything that's been going on."
"Alison's not an idiot, Donnie. What are you going to tell her? You slipped and fell on glass, then got hit by a car? Cause that's what you look like."
"I'll tell her that we were at a bar, and a guy got handsy with you. And that we got into a bar fight."
Cosima was horribly confused, "What?! Why would you say that? That makes no sense. Why not just tell her the truth?"
"I can't! I don't want Alison to know that I was targeted because of my wealth. It's better for her to believe that this was a random act." Donnie pleaded, "Please, Cosima. I've never asked you for much, and you know that, but I'm begging you, just do this for me."
Donnie had always been there for her. He was the big brother she never had. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that Donnie was beaten black and blue, and shades of red, but for whatever reason, Cosima reluctantly agreed.
"Fine. You can tell Alison whatever it is you want, and I'll back you. But promise me, Donnie, that whatever this is, when you're ready, you'll talk to me."
"I will." Donnie meant it, "I promise."
Donnie loved Cosima. He wouldn't have involved her if it wasn't an absolute must. Under no circumstances can Alison find out, not until he rectified his mistakes. He wasn't about to let this go. He was not a cheater. And he most certainly didn't deserve this humiliation. This wasn't over.
- o -
Paul couldn't aggravate Claire. And until she agreed to an abortion, and actually went through with it, he wasn't scot-free just yet. But it had to be done. Paul was going to end it with Claire tonight. He brought his cheque book. That's all this ever was: a transaction.
Paul knocked on the suite door.
The door came undone, "About time."
Paul got right to the point, "I don't think we should see each other anymore, Claire."
"Typical." Claire scoffed. "When it was convenient for you, it was fuck, fuck, fuck. But as soon as there's a bun in the oven, you instantly want to head for the hills."
"You can say whatever it is you want." Paul shrugged, "But I'm making my intentions known: I want nothing to do with you, or that child."
Paul opened his cheque book, and scribbled down a number he deemed fair. "That's yours if you agree to an abortion."
Claire gave the amount a once over. Paul was never stingy with his money. Whenever she wanted something, all she had to do was ask, and suck his dick, and that was it.
"Make it $300K, and we have a deal."
Paul's eyes thinned. That was a Hell of a lot of money. And Claire Hatcher was definitely not worth that sum. "Two-hundred, and not a penny more."
"You know, I never thought —"
The door flew open with a bang. It startled both Paul and Claire. And there, in the doorway, was Sarah Manning Black.
"Sarah?"
Sarah made a beeline for Claire, and without warning, socked her with a sucker punch.
Claire Hatcher went down like a tree.
"Stop it!" Paul pulled Sarah off, "Calm down!"
Sarah screamed, punched, kicked, and flailed in Paul's arms. "Let me go!"
"I can explain! Please, just hear me out!"
Sarah pulled out her cell phone. And there, on the screen, was a screen cap of Paul and Claire's indiscretion. Neither of their modesty was covered. "Explain this! Explain to me why your dick is in her twat! Did you slip, and fall into her fucking cunt?!"
Claire scrambled onto her feet, and she lunged at Sarah. She grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked it as hard as she could. "You stupid bitch! Who the fuck do you think you are?!"
Paul pulled Claire aside, and shoved her to the floor. "Don't you dare lay a hand on my wife!"
"What?! Now suddenly you're a dotting husband?! Well, guess what, Ms. Manning?! It's not a onetime fling. We've been going behind your back for three years now! I guess he liked my twat more than yours, huh."
Sarah's mouth was agape, as her eyes burned with tears. "What...what?"
"Please, listen to me, Sarah!" Paul pleaded, "She meant nothing to me. I didn't do this to hurt you."
"Oh, give your crocodile tears a rest, Paully." Claire rubbed the cheque in Sarah's nose, "You see this? Your husband's paying me for my silence. And you know what? I'm taking it. Cause you're all fucking cray-cray."
Sarah had never had her heartbroken, not like this. It felt like a vice grip had clamped down on her chest.
Paul got down on his knees, and he begged, "Please, Sarah. You have to believe me. I was going to end it with her. It's you that I love."
The pain was indescribable. Sarah wasn't thinking clearly. She wanted one thing, more so than anything else right now: she wanted Paul to hurt, like she was now.
"We can start again. We can seek counseling. Whatever it takes to make this work, I'll do it. I'll do anything to protect our family. Please, don't break us up."
Sarah was numb. She said, " Kira's not yours."
"What?"
"I said, Kira's not yours."
Paul didn't understand. And maybe on some level, he didn't want to understand.
- o -
"Mr. Carlo. Menendez. How is our friend?"
"Alive and kicking."
"Good."
"He's lost everything. I got a couple of high priced loan sharks poaching him. When he takes up their offer, it's only a matter of time till he defaults on his payment."
"You can keep the money. I want the asset."
"Of course, Ms. Lang."
Kára Lang ended the call at that. Her plan was coming to fruition nicely. Now all that's left to do was for her to corrupt Cosima. But that might be easier said than done. Kára's jaw still ached from that sucker punch.
The limo stopped outside a detached house. And not long after, the door opened. It was Shay.
"What do you want now?"
"You owe me." Kára said matter of factly. "I want to recall that favor."
That was the one thing Shay dreaded hearing. She was indebted to Kára, and it was her debt to pay. But she didn't want to involve Cosima. And she most definitely did not like what Kára was asking her to do, and to Cosima of all people. It was wrong. Plain and simple.
"No."
"No? That's not what you said when I got you out of Nepal. Human trafficking is a serious crime. You could've been sentenced to life in prison, even for a Canadian citizen. You should thank baby Jesus for my generosity, for even extending you that helping hand. And now you have the audacity to decline me?"
"It's not human trafficking, and you know it!" Shay defended herself, "Those kids were going to be sold as sex slaves. I had to get them out of there, with whatever means necessary!"
"I didn't ask you for your life story." Kára replied coldly. "You owe me this. And I want it done."
"What you're asking me to do is irresponsible!" Shay chastised, "And it's considered rape!"
"Technicalities." Kára couldn't care less, "Set up the dinner. And do it."
The limo stopped outside the corporate head office of Black Crown Corp.
"This is my stop." Kára said to the driver, "Take Ms. Davydov home."
Kára walked past security and into the lobby. She pressed for the highest floor in the building. The doors parted, and the dim office greeted her. In her killer heels, Kára Lang made her way to Rachel Duncan Black's office.
The door was unlocked.
Kára entered the empty office.
And there, she sat in Rachel's chair, and she kicked her feet up.
Kára simply sat there, and she basked in the sensation of what it felt like to be CEO of Black Crown Corp. It won't be long now.
Cosima had ruined her life. Kára begged her not to press charges. She groveled beneath her feet, and she begged her. But Cosima didn't so much as acknowledge her presence. The humiliation Kára endured was the drive behind her sobriety. And now, it was time for payback.
Kára was out to ruin Cosima Niehaus Black. Anything and everything that Cosima held dear, Kára was going to obliterate. Nothing will be pardoned. And nobody will be spared.
- o -
It was the beginning of October. And the weather in Toronto was already frigid.
Delphine waited inside her vehicle. Her car was parked atop a hill. There were already hikers and joggers out and about. It wasn't exactly discrete. But then again, there wasn't a need for discretion.
Soon, a black SUV pulled up beside Delphine's car.
Delphine exited her vehicle. As did the other party.
Delphine handed over an envelope. "I've copied Felix's hard drive, including his login information. That alone should grant you access to their books, including their servers."
"It's a good start, but on the record, their books are clean. I want concrete evidence of their embezzlement."
"You make me sick." Delphine said candidly, "You're tearing their family apart. Because in your eyes, they're already guilty. You have a sick and perverted sense of justice, you know that?"
"Aw. Don't tell me you actually care for Felix?"
Delphine's hard face, and cold eyes, gave nothing away.
"Well, either way, you don't have a choice, now do you, Delphine?"
Delphine exhaled. "I need more time."
"And you'll have it. Consider this a sign of good faith." The man handed Delphine a thick binder. "That's a portion of the evidence we've amassed."
Delphine had no idea it was this bad.
"But until I get what I want, you won't get what you truly desire."
And with that, the man got back into his SUV. But not before Delphine left him with a few choice words.
"Oh, and Art?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't you dare go near my mother again."
- o -
A/N: Drop a review.