Everything done in the dark comes to the light eventually, something someone should have reminded John, Reah and Vicky.
A Victoria Monét x OC story.
- TOP PEAK -
#13 VictoriaMonet
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• About A Week Ago •
"You've got 2 weeks."
"2 weeks?!" Reah shrilled in exasperation. John leisurely opened his desk drawer and withdrew a cigar from his stash of imports completely unfazed by her outburst. Reah braced herself against the opposite side of his desk, hands clenching angrily at the cherry wood surface, momentarily shaking it as she continued to fume. John's eyes flickered up to her face in warning as he reached for his lighter. Reah took a deep breath to steady her escalating temper. "I've got 2 weeks... to do something you couldn't do in 2 years?" She laughed bitterly as she reiterated John's obscene expectations. The man in question shrugged as he lit his cigar.
"Not my problem." He took time to puff at his overpriced cancer stick and blew the smoke into the irritated woman's face. Her face contorted in disgust. "You're such a scumbag." She angrily spewed as she waved the smoke away. "A scumbag you needed help from, no?" John challenged as he took another puff of his cigar. He awaited her response and was met with silence. A pleased smile slid onto his face at having successfully shut the whining woman up as he continued. "I did my part. I pulled my strings to help you cover your awful leadership and bad decisions—"
"I didn't have a choice!" Reah shouted in frustration cutting off the insensitively sauve man.
"Once again, not my problem." He replied. The air was tense as they took a moment to stare each other down, an inevitable power struggle that they both knew the outcome of. While Reah wasn't a pushover, she also wasn't in a place to leverage any of her arguments. Though that didn't stop her sly remarks or attitude, it did prevent her from taking things as far as she'd personally like to go a fact that John knew and used to his advantage as much as possible.
"It's your turn to return the favor." He said leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I've gotten her to open up about almost everything" he continued, his eyes drifting to the ceiling as he spoke. "everything except that damn Lovett account." He gritted a hint of annoyance in his tone." He took one more puff of his cigar, before setting it in his ashtray. "So, I need you to get close with her. You know how you girls do on your little trips or whatever. Bond. See if you can get her lit and get some info out of her about him or the account. Any hints we can possibly get—meaningful memories her mom may have shared, heirlooms he may have left, weird or suspicious moments she can recall from her childhood. If we can gather as many details as possible and find a way to gain access to that account, we should be able to paper trail her father. And once we find him, boom, your job is done. Simple."
Reah scoffed at the absurdity of his request. "Yeah, real simple to find a man that mysteriously disappeared 30+ years along with 51 million dollars through an account that may or may not exis-"
"It DOES exist!" He shouted slamming his fist harshly against the table. Any normal person would have recoiled or flinched at the release of such intense anger but Reah was used to it. She blinked, waiting for him to regather his composure. John took in a breath, exhaling through his flailing nostrils before he cautiously stretched out the growing tension in his neck. "It exists." He repeated again a bit more calmly. "I know it does... but I'm starting to think she just doesn't know about it."
