When the Family Feuds

CHAPTER 15

The ghosts of Joseph Williams kept his half-brother on edge. Austin thought that he could handle the consequences of his actions but he couldn't. To the point that he self-medicated to keep himself up at night. A once narcoleptic knew all the drugs to keep him asleep but needed something to keep him awake.

Being a self-prescribed insomniac wasn't a long-term goal for him. He knew there wasn't enough coffee and energy drinks in the world to keep him from dozing off. But he tried anyway. Anything was better than the cold sweats and night terrors.

Austin didn't want to accept that maybe he was feeling guilty. That his grief was haunting him. Everywhere he went he saw a figure who resembled Joseph. The gym, the grocery store, everywhere he turned. Then he started to accept the fact that what he did to Joseph wasn't just. Maybe he should've just played the hand that life would've dealt.

He soon realized that the harder he tried to be nothing like his father the more he was sucked into a lifestyle that questioned his integrity. As if the harder he tried, the harder he fell. Accepting the reality that Joseph would've been their Father's heir. That the Livingston Empire would've been given to a stranger, an outsider. But like father, like son. Robert had a son that he never acknowledged. Why would Austin respect the son that his father regretted?

Austin thought back to everything that happened in the past year. The amount of stress he was under. He thought back to the bar brawl. How much of a coward he was for pressing charges for a fight that he started. Then the aftermath. When he woke up in jail. It was like all his wrongdoings were being bundled into a large gift of karma.

The biggest gray area of all was that his new fiance had no idea. No idea the monster she was marrying. Austin wondered if she knew his truth and how she would react. How she would view him as a man. And if he would still be the one and only she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

It didn't help that the night terrors were getting worse. Sleepwalking was new territory for him. The first time Austin awoke later in the morning on the side of the road. Not sure how he got there or how long he'd been there. He knew that if he continued down this path there would be hours at a time unaccounted for and he would have no recollection of what he'd done.

Robert Livingston took a private jet to what he considered the safest place in the world. That was up until recently. The Freeport in the Caymans was a special place. Aside from housing expensive wines, cars, art, bonds, gold bars, and much more, Robert despised visiting not because he knew the Feds were cracking down, but because he was far from the richest person who stored their goods there. The Freeport was pitched to Robert as the best museum the world would never see.

The company which once had locations around the world, Geneva and New York, downsized and upped its exclusivity. Only offering maximum security guaranteed available to the one percenters of the one-percenters. The Freeport was more than a haven. It was an exclusive club only available to the rich by word of mouth.

Compared to his peers, Robert was a small fish in a large pond. Up against the other Millionaires and Billionaires who the Feds didn't know existed, Robert Livingston was one of the few faces with names and accounts they could match. Others were simply rich in theory with a minimal paper trail.

There were familiar faces that Robert saw every visit, those who were so rich and powerful that they never introduced themselves to him. They assumed that he automatically knew who they were. The Freeport's on-site manager, Richard, was a white male whose only job was to properly manage the contents of the Freeport.

Robert had acquaintances who were secretly moving their goods elsewhere. Places like Hong Kong, the Netherlands, and Singapore. Avoiding taxes was like a game to the rich. But with the Feds closing in, friendships and alliances became a game of survival of the fittest. The most exclusive and secretive club in the world had holes. Those who caught wind of the recent turn of events only had one theory in mind. Someone tipped off the Feds to the Freeport. It was the only logical explanation.

Face to face, Robert told Richard, "I want to diversify my portfolio. My largest assets kept here." At this point, Robert didn't care where but anywhere was better than the Caymans. But Freeports were legal loopholes. The Feds were looking for any opportunity to take down anyone. Anything stored in Freeports was still pending and transitioning. But anything in transit was free game. "And the smaller items, well I'm afraid they'll have to venture elsewhere."

And Robert had the perfect plan. The Feds wanted to crucify anyone who crossed their path. And as much as they wanted Robert, they'd take anyone they could get. Robert knew that which made his setup sweeter than he imagined. Framing someone else was the Chess move to get the heat off of himself. And just how far he was willing to go to protect himself was unruly.

"We're sorry to see you go, sir." then Richard said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Transfer everything else to my ex-wife's account. Then transport them to other locations." Robert grinned at the thought. If the intel he received was true, the Feds were crashing down any day now. His items would be safe and his wife would be left to explain herself.

Robert Livingston and Noelle Dillard, once sweethearts turned cold-blooded in their messy divorce. They used their son as a bargaining chip and left everything else up to fate. Though Robert was a savage when it came to protecting his assets, his ex-wife was just as ruthless and was willing to do anything to protect her son.