KANE
He paced back and forth by his swimming pool; the sun shone bright, reflecting over the water. He angrily kicked a chair into the pool; it landed with a splash.
His housekeeper, Moira, shook her head with disapproval and proceeded to retrieve the chair.
"Wow," His best friend, who had been lying on a deck chair, Damian, whistled and pushed his sunglasses above his head. "I haven't seen you this mad since I crashed your favorite car."
Kane opened his mouth to speak. "You're lucky you came out of that alive."
"Yes, thank God for that, and insurance." Damian grinned. "Relax."
"Eight million dollars just flew off a few days ago, back to Tennessee!" Kane shouted.
Damian lifted a brow. "Just eight million? You spent a lot more than that during our last vacation to Waikiki."
Kane scoffed. "This isn't a fucking joke, Damian. We're talking about my company, my future. I mean, the least I could do is bring in a massive profit to boost my chances of becoming president."
Damian drained the last of his whiskey. "Dude, you're practically running the company. Lucky for you, you're an only child; no one's going to steal your inheritance."
Sometimes his friend was completely clueless. Damian Hiroshi ran one of the world's leading hospitals. He made a lot of money through medical research and development; he was set up for life.
"It's not just that," Kane said with a sad tone.
Damian's lips curled up and his brows wiggled in amusement. "No way, that's that chick, isn't it? She's gotten on your nerves, hasn't she?"
"Fiona cost me eight million, man," Kane growled.
"But you like her?" Damian asked with a sly grin.
Kane glared at his friend. "Can you focus on the situation at hand? I need to cripple them somehow."
Damian leapt to his feet. "You want to take on the Mafia? You're crazy!"
"Maybe I am." Kane agreed.
He had his security team place a tracker on Vincenzo Spinelli's car; it wasn't easy, but it happened. Vincenzo liked to go bowling every Thursday and then went home to his wife, but he usually drove out at one a.m. to an address that was a warehouse.
"I've always wanted to be a cop." Damian murmured as Kane drove the old SUV rental towards Vincenzo's location.
"Really?" Kane asked.
"No!" Damian snapped at him.
Kane shrugged as he turned to a corner of a street. "Because I thought you always wanted to be a doctor."
"Listen, there's a reason why private investigators exist, the police even; guys like us pay them to do all the dirty work for us." Damian hissed.
"Trust me, they can smell a cop a mile away." Kane explained. "I want to see this for myself."
"You're going to get us both killed." Damian punched his arm.
"Shh." Kane parked a few blocks from the warehouse and killed the engine. They leaned back low and watched a truck drive past them towards the warehouse.
A couple of guys were hurling crates into the warehouse.
"What do you think is in there?" Damian asked.
"Probably drugs." Kane guessed.
"Sure about that?" Damian peeked through the binoculars around his neck. "There are way too many people involved."
"It's the Mafia; they don't care about that." Kane replied and dug out his cellphone. He dialed a number.
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" A female voice asked.
They watched Vincenzo walk into the warehouse.
"Yeah, I'm calling about a disturbance on the corner of Duncan and Williams Avenue…" Kane said.
The following day, Vincenzo Spinelli was arrested in his home for being in possession of counterfeit products. The news was circulated on different media outlets, much to Kane's satisfaction.
He was supervising a shipment to be exported overseas when he caught a glimpse of Fiona walking across the deck of the Poseidon and disappearing below deck.
He strolled down the dock and climbed aboard. A deckhand was mopping the floors.
"I'm looking for your boss." Kane said.
"She's down in the galley," the woman replied. "But I don't think she wants visitors right now."
Kane smirked a bit. "It's okay, she'll see me."
He climbed down the stairs into the galley; the atmosphere was steamy and filled with sizzling foods. Fiona was chopping vegetables on the kitchen worktop. She wore a hairnet, and her eyes focused on the task at hand. He sensed worry in her.
She glanced up and spat. "What the hell are you doing in here?"
"A little birdie told me you bought the yacht," Kane said. "What's the matter, Captain? Can't hire decent staff?"
Fiona dropped the knife on the chopping board and marched up to him. "Leave, right now."
A sly smile spread across his face. "I hear your brother's been…entrepreneurial lately. Dealing in counterfeit goods, as the media claimed. That's a little low for a Spinelli."
Fiona's expression tightened, and she crossed her arms. "Is that so? You came all this way for this."
"I was simply in the area, my harbor, by the way, and, uh, I don't recall you registering with the harbor business owners association." Kane noted. "Failure to comply would simply be illegal. Unless you threatened the previous owner into handing it over."
Fiona shook her head. "I believe what I do on my yacht is none of your concern. Thanks for stopping by; now get off my property."
* * * * * * * *
FIONA
I could barely chew my food at dinner; I hadn't been able to concentrate at work after Kane left. Time was running out; I had to find a way to get to the harbor.
"...You did not tell me the IRS paid you a visit, Fiona." Giovanni was saying.
I gripped my fork tightly and lifted my head. "Uhm, how did—"
"I have eyes everywhere," Giovanni replied.
Dante cast a dark look at me.
"Yeah, they had to confirm the ownership and everything else." I replied as I recalled them visiting as soon as Kane left.
"The IRS doesn't just pop up without someone squealing." Dante noted.
"McGregor's doing it, no doubt." Giovanni said.
My fingers were a little shaky afterwards. I drank a sip of my white wine to calm my nerves.
"Perhaps buying the yacht was a wise decision after all." Giovanni nodded. "Very good, Fiona."
A grin escaped my lips at his approval.
Suddenly I heard a commotion outside the dining room. A female voice became much clearer.
"...He's my father-in-law, and I demand an audience!" She snapped and appeared in view.
Pauline gripped her black Dior purse, glared at us, and pointed an accusing finger. "How can you all sit, drinking wine while my husband rots in jail?!"
"Pauline," Dante said with a hint of softness in his voice.
"No!" She shouted. "I will not stand for this unfairness!"
I felt a little pity for Pauline; her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying for hours.
Giovanni slammed his fist on the dining table. "How dare you interrupt my dinner unannounced?!"
A soldado grabbed Pauline by her arms. She gasped in panic.
"Don, I'm sorry!" Pauline sank to her knees. "But how can a wife be so patient with this?!"
"My patience with you, Katherine, is running out." Giovanni thundered.
Pauline trailed her eyes on me, a flash of hatred, but it switched to vulnerability. "Fiona."
What could I do? If Vinny had gotten himself arrested, I couldn't do a thing.
I turned to Giovanni. "Maybe you could hire a lawyer to get him out?"
"That won't be necessary." A familiar voice spoke.
I stood as Vincenzo walked into the dining room; his hair was uncombed and his shirt untucked.
"Vin!" Pauline happily leapt to her feet and flew into his arms.
Dante laughed and walked over to hug his brother.
"Jail looks good on you."
Vinny laughed. "Shut up."
"You idiot, how could you let yourself get caught?" Pauline queried.
"How did you get free?" I asked, a little disappointed. I thought I had one less Spinelli to worry about.
Vinny looked at me with a satisfied grin. "Oh, who's going to press charges? A little coercion, and besides, fake purses and shoes simply hit the market all the time."