Authors note: Yay, chapter two, and things are starting to get more interesting. This plot is rather complicated, so everything moves rather slowly I am afraid. But, be patient! ;)

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KirayHimawari: Fantastic to hear from you, and thank you so much for leaving a great review! Hahaha, my brain is a dark place, so beware! Anyways, great that you like the story! It is a bit different from my other work, and the plot is getting very complicated, so we´ll see what happens. I will definitely check out that book, revenge is such an interesting theme for a story. And if you are stalker I am not complaining:) Thanks again, you are just totally awesome! :D


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When the sea turns crimson

Chapter 2

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-June 2012, present time-

The Hamptons, home of the rich and powerful, one of the most expensive zip-codes in the world. For many owning a property here is their lives mission. For someone like me such a thing holds a much more sinister purpose. Voltaire Hiwatari lives here almost year round. He owns one of the largest pieces of land in the area, facing the sea and slightly elevated compared to the neighbours. My parents old beach house is located further down the slope, a mere 50 meters from the foaming waves, and this is the place I have just bought.

Most of my memories from this place are pleasant ones. Moments with warm summer winds and light, always with the assuring knowledge that even the darkest storms would eventually pass. And for a while they did. To my eyes it was mostly unchanged. New paint had been applied, and the furniture was changed, but otherwise it looked the way it had always done. With a sense of hesitation I trailed my fingers along the wooden railing, gaze fixed on the sea. It looked beautiful, exquisite. The most acceptable thing I had ever lied my eyes on. In that regard I suppose buying the beach house was not such a bad idea. It had appealed to me, be it due to my previous connection or not.

My features hardened as I turned around, gaze cold and flinty. The Hiwatari manor was looming overhead, a surprisingly tasteful monstrosity built from dark grey stone and beige brick. Then again I suppose everything in the Hamptons is tasteful, or at least striving to be. I had bought the place furnished. Partly because I didn´t find it interesting to do it myself, but mostly because I didn´t like the idea of changing it. There are some things that are better left forgotten, and then others that you simply can´t leave behind, no matter how hard you try.

"Hi".

The voice caught me off guard, and I paused in my broodings, swiftly turning to regard the intruder with a cool stare. He was about my age, short, with large round glasses and messy, reddish-brown hair. I recognized him instantly, and a polite smile graced my features. He was not on my list.

"I´m Kenny", he introduced himself.

"Tyson, Tyson Granger", I said.

He looked momentarily surprised, but quickly schooled his features, smiling.

"A pleasure to meet you Tyson, seeing as we are neighbours".

"Hn", I responded offhandedly.

He was curious about something, and I briefly wondered exactly what before I dismissed it. Kenneth Denham, or Kenny as he liked to call himself, was a computer genius. At the age of 17 he had started his business, and he now made millions of dollars on a weekly basis. Judging by his appearance he looked all but dangerous, however intelligence should never be underestimated.

"Tyson Granger, huh?" He mumbled, almost to himself.

I smiled, all but amused. He could play around all he liked when I was not here. Now that I had returned I did not feel like being so lenient.

"Cut the crap, we have work to do", I snapped, my polite front gone in an instant.

"Relax, relax, I´m just joking".

He waved his arms in a gesture of apology, and I turned my back on him, stalking inside. Part of me was annoyed that he had turned up so early. I had looked forward to exploring the house and its surroundings on my own for a while. Now that he was here that would have to wait. We settled in the living room coach, and I watched as Kenny fired up his lap top, impatiently tapping my fingers against the edge of the table. Sometimes I just wanted to strangle him. Sure, he was my only friend, and he was my main source of information, but still. He could be unbelievably frustrating. The screen lit up as he started typing, and I watched with renewed interest as it split in four, sporting four different images. Three empty rooms, and then in the kitchen a blond woman was busy making coffee. Judy Tate.

"As you can see I have managed to keep the Tate´s under surveillance, the same is for the Hiwatari Manor. They have security cameras installed, so this was easy", he said, a hint of pride evident in his tone.

"The others?" I prompted.

He shook his head, face falling.

"Most of them require inside jobs I am afraid".

"Which I will deal with once I have gotten close enough", I murmured, catching his curious look.

"About that", he started, looking at me.

"How will you ….."

"That is none of your concern", I interrupted him.

"You will make sure that I have an invitation for the charity event tonight, and that is that".

He just looked at me, eyebrows rising in question.

"Well, I suppose I will know tonight then".

"Perhaps", I allowed.

My suit was already waiting, hanging over a chair in the kitchen. Everything was set for the evening, it merely depended on the last details, and my own performance of course, which after all was the main concern.

"How is Tyson doing?" I asked Kenny, eyes still glued to the computer screen.

Dr. Tate had moved to the living room, busy looking through a bunch of files, no doubt sealing some other unlucky individuals fate.

"Last time I checked he was still in Nevada, working on some cow farm", he dismissed.

I spared him a withering look.

"Make sure he stays there".

"Of course Mr. Hiwatari", he said, mockingly bowing his head.

"Unless you are certain that we are alone it is Tyson Granger", I corrected him, annoyed.

You never knew who could be listening in, and Kenny shrugged apologetically, looking genuinely sorry. Like I said, sometimes I just want to strangle him. Tyson Granger. How I despised that name! Everything about it, everything about him, spoke of lack of refinement, of insecurity. Then again all these qualities were harmless, anonymous traits.

"When did you last speak to him?"

Kenny shook his head, uninterested it seemed. Well, he better pull his shit together. Part of executing this successfully is not underestimating the lose threads, because if you do, they usually come back to haunt you.

"A couple of months ago I think".

"Check up on him again, and soon". I said shortly.

He left the computer with me, and I did not follow him out when he took his leave. Kenny is a good hearted individual. You my wonder what he is doing here, being part of my bloody scheme. Unfortunately for Voltaire Hiwatari his grandson is not his only enemy. When Kenny started his business Voltaire Hiwatari had shown interest almost instantly.

What exactly had happened I did not know, the only thing I did know; the only thing which was of any interest to me, was that he now owned 51 % of it. Kenny was effectively working for him, and he was angry about it. A hostile takeover he had called it when we first met, and the opportunity to reclaim what was rightfully his was something he could not refuse. He was useful, and his computer skills unmatched. However he was also intelligent enough not to go ranting to others about my plans, which was ultimately the most important thing. And of course, the determining point. He cared about me, and this made him reassuringly predictable.

With a sigh I stood up, leisurely stretching. The charity event this evening was important. Voltaire Hiwatari and family were attending, which of course made my presence a priority. Yes, with family. The previous year he had remarried a Lisa Tachibana. She was a slim, decent looking woman in her early forties, and she had a 22 year old daughter, Hilary Tachibana; My ticket into the Hiwatari household. She was a poor little thing, all wrapped up in her own ambitions, no friends, no life outside her academic career. In that regard I suppose we are not so different. At this point in time my existence revolves around one thing, revenge.

With practised ease I pulled on my suit jacket. It was a deep, charcoal grey, and I studied my reflection closely, looking for any sign of imperfection. There was none. I looked good. A light tan, sun bleached hair with darker highlights. My built was tall and athletic, muscled after a lifetime of martial arts training. The natural colour of my eyes was a quite unique shade of mahogany, a classic Hiwatari trait.

For obvious reason´s I was now wearing contacts, and ice blue eyes glared back at me from the mirror, holding the temperature of a glacier. I knew that I was beautiful, but as with everything else it was merely means to an end, a tool to aid my campaign. In the Hamptons there a three things which are essential to success; beauty, wealth, and having the right friends. It is a superficial place, were ones wallet has far more to say than integrity. Which is why one can always expect the people here to act solely for their own benefit. In that regard I was no exception.

The event in question was hosted by Lisa Tachibana, or as she liked to call herself these days; Mrs. Hiwatari. It was one of those grand things supporting breast cancer, the kind of event rich people host solely for their own guilty conscience. I was handed a pink rose at the entrance, which I gave Kenny once we were through. As with everything else in the Hamptons the event was perfectly executed. For the richest crowd in the world, nothing but perfection was good enough. It was hosted on an antique yacht, and pink flower arrangements were everywhere, ensuring that everyone knew who was getting their money. I strolled casually up the ramp and onto the boat, grabbing a glass of Champaign from a tray carried by a blushing waitress.

I recognized most of the people, although they had no idea who I was. Mr. Dickinson, the judge who had committed perjury to ensure Voltaire Hiwatari´s pretended innocence. Boris Balcov, corrupt law enforcement officer. He was the one who had opened fire on my parents car, and for that I had reserved a special place for him. And there he was, Mr. Hiwatari himself. Tall and elegantly dressed he worked the crowd along with his wife, smiling and patting people on their backs, laughing at their bad jokes.

Even from afar he exuded an unmistakable air of power and intimidation. He had presence in a way that is deeply unsettling. Even as a child I had feared him, and now that I once again was within striking distance, I suddenly felt unsure. Despite all my careful planning the idea of confronting him suddenly seemed irresistible. His back was still facing me, and I took a couple of steps forward, tension building.

"Tyson…", Kenny warned, placing a hand on my shoulder which I shook off immediately.

But he was right. I couldn't ruin everything, not now. Satisfaction would be mine, but not yet, and something told me that the longer I had to wait, the better it would be.

"Don´t", I warned, voice dangerously pleasant.

I stalked off, leaving him standing alone. My eyes had just caught the perfect distraction; Hilary Tachibana. To my surprise she was prettier in real life than on the pictures. Her face was heart shaped and attractive, with large almond shaped eyes, and full, rosy lips. She looked nervous, alone and out of place, like she didn´t quite know how to deal with the posh surroundings. Her dress was hugging her curves in all the right places, and I watched, fascinated as she clutched her purse with tense fingers, knuckles whitening. Why so tense? Are you afraid of something?

I scanned the crowd once more, trying to determine what she was looking for without success. Secrets, so many secrets. She was already part of this world, entangled in the spiders web, I just didn´t know how. Perhaps that could be changed. I approached her guardedly, smiling politely when she looked up, our eyes locking. She blushed, straightening slightly, her mouth forming a small o in surprise. I usually had that effect on women, especially the insecure ones. Hilary Tachibana looked like she needed some adventure in her life.

"Can I get you a drink miss?" I wondered, all polite assertiveness.

"I…yes please", she said timidly.

Her smile was hesitant, but in her eyes there was hope. I almost felt sorry for her, almost. Five minutes later we were seated at the front of the boat, sipping Champaign and talking. She was currently studying British literature in London, and had come home for the summer last week. Outside of school she liked to read and cook, her favourite colour was purple and this was her second time in the Hamptons. All boring facts which I already knew about, but if it could build something between us I was more than willing to listen.

"We moved in with Mr. Hiwatari a year ago, right after they married".

"You are close?"

"You and your mother?" I elaborated, resting both elbows at the table as I watched her.

She looked momentarily startled by the question.

"Yes, my father left when I was a child, I am very lucky to have Mr. Hiwatari".

I have never believed in luck.

"And they are very happy together, him and my mother", she quickly continued.

Not very convincing I pondered, regarding her with a friendly smile.

"Sounds like you are a very lucky girl", I said.

Of course the irony went unnoticed, and she smiled tentatively back, eyes twinkling with joy. It was almost depressing, how she clung onto my every word. Normally I would steer clear of girls like her. She was too timid.

"Hilary! There you are, I have been looking all over for you."

We both looked up as Lisa Tachibana hastily approached us, the long red dress swishing about her feet. Mother and daughter resembled each other right down to the tiny details, and I regarded her with a slow, charming smile, eyes glittering.

"And you are?" She wondered, as the slightest hint of pale pink crept up her cheeks.

"Tyson Granger", I pleasantly responded, shaking her hand.

"Lisa, Lisa Hiwatari".

"Tyson just moved into the old beach house", Hilary quickly said, sending me a sidelong glance.

She was fidgeting shyly next to me, eyes lowered. Poor thing.

"I am Hilary´s mother", she continued, sending Hilary a reprimanding look for not introducing her.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Mrs. Hiwatari", I purred.

"What a wonderful surprise to see you here!" She exclaimed.

Her voice was high and shrilly, wailing, and I wondered how a man like Voltaire Hiwatari could live with her. At least Hilary was not so loud, and a bit more accommodating.

"We are practically neighbours".

There was a brief pause in which I wondered what to say next, when Mrs. Hiwatari suddenly turned around, waving at someone I couldn´t see. Once again she struck me as frantic, almost desperate. Perhaps life with one of the world´s richest men was not as easy as one might think. Soon I would know everything that went on behind closed doors, and part of me hoped for something juicy, even if was at her expense. And that was when I spotted him, turning to send Lisa Tachibana a flinty stare, before approaching. Cool mahogany eyes, steel grey hair. Up close he was exactly like I remembered, but different all the same.

"Honey! This our new neighbour, Tyson Granger", she said, smiling up at him as he reached her.

Her smile was forced, just like his. I was the only one who looked genuinely happy to see him; Voltaire Hiwatari. He gave me a quick once over, nodding his head in approval at Hilary. He looked older in real life. A bit more wrinkled here and there, more silver in his hair, his shoulders a tad slighter than they appeared in print and on the screen. He was getting old, but in his eyes I could still see the snake. To my immediate relief and satisfaction he didn´t recognise me, he merely wrote me off as yet another trust fund kid who had decided that the Hamptons was the new was curiosity there, but not suspicion.

They say vengeance taken will tear the heart and torment the conscience. If there is any truth to it, then I now know that I am on the right path. He would be the last one to fall, but his fall would also be the longest. Just looking at him seemed to strengthen my resolve. He was so close, and yet so far out of reach. I suppose this was a good thing. Had we been alone I might have considered killing him. Instead we shook hands, ironically enough.

"Mr. Hiwatari".

"Granger".

And with that the two of them strolled in the opposite direction, arm in arm. The tension in Lisa´s back was unmistakable. I tilted my head to the side, eyes narrowed. Interesting. When pulling someones life apart there is nothing quite like exploiting already existing tensions. Perception is often reality, and in this case there was only a question of hard evidence. With Kenny´s surveillance tapes this shouldn´t be too difficult to find. I watched his back disappear in the crowd, suddenly feeling preoccupied. With a certain strain I turned to Hilary, smiling.

"Till next time miss Tachibana".

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Clarence Darrow, one of histories greatest lawyers once noted ; "there is no such thing as justice, in our out of court". Perhaps because justice is a flawed concept, which is why, when the system fails us, we must go out and seek our own justice. Much like beauty, justice is in the eye of the beholder. Some see an innocent victim.

Others see evil incarnate, getting exactly what is deserved.


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