Captivity

Chapter 10: In the Hands of Sinful Men

It was a typical day at the office, the hustle and bustle of people in and out, the hum of machines and the tick tack of keyboards pounding away into a dull repetition; the smell of coffee hung heavy in the air, but it did little to ease the sense of weariness that clung to him.

Vlad Masters rubbed his brow with an exasperated breath, staring down at the phone as it buzzed continuously. It was another small deal he had no interest in, just another idealist with grabby hands, wanting a taste of his fortune but to no avail. Its cries all but silenced with the simple tap of the reject button. He wasn't in the mood to put up with them.

Turning in his chair, he let his gaze wander out across the city, the view stretching out across downtown and cresting at the ocean's edge. It was one of the finest views, and he'd paid a decent sum to obtain it. Yet it was less about the beauty of it and more about viewing his domain; all the other businesses within his quarry and those he wished to keep a watchful eye on. From where he sat, he could see the roof of the aquarium out by the water, the light reflecting off of the tile and glass roofing, hiding such deep secrets under such an innocent façade. As it was, most of his establishments where hosting some sort of underground deal. It was just one of the many ways he stayed ahead in the game; no one got rich and kept it by playing fair.

The aquarium was one of his newer operations, having stumbled upon the place a few years back, still trying to get up onto its foundation. It was there that he'd met the ever enthusiastic Nathaniel Manson, though down trodden and at a lack of funds for his build, the man never gave up on his dreams and had been looking for an investment. It was with this that the billionaire had found opportunity.

It had been quite simple really, playing into the man's dreams, giving him a place to play researching whilst unknowingly giving Vlad the perfect place to set about his operation. While the scientist would find and treat injured specimens, the billionaire would offer up his 'private cove' for 'rehabilitation'; as the center was still in the process of being built and had no true place to house the injured animals; and thus he smuggled them off to exotic buyers simply stating they'd been 'released' back into the wild. It continued like this for the past few years, until the center had reached its completion, and with it came the most current specimen of interest; the jet black mer. But he had no wish to sell this one, but rather obtain it for his own collection, and it was so close, within his grasp, and yet slipping between his fingers.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth, leaving his coffee tasting sour. He grimaced, setting the cup frown upon his desk. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't just his mood that left the unpleasant sensation upon his palate. The coffee was just bad in general. He was half tempted to yell at his secretary about the quality when she'd walked in, arms full of papers, but the sight of the mass of currently unwanted bills and work just made the place feel stuffy, and thus he took it as an excuse to head out and acquire some fresh air.

While he was considered a man of expensive tastes, some things of refined quality didn't require top dollar value. This included, but was not limited to a brisk walk down the street to a simple, homegrown coffee shop. While a majority of the monopoly of businesses would have wiped the little place off the map, he'd held a certain fondness for it, and with a little bit of endorsement, was able to keep it on its feet; as well as give him a center point within the downtown district. The fact that the coffee was surprisingly good had just been a bonus.

A quick cup and he was off meandering down the streets, taking in the sights. Normally he drove through the mass that was downtown, but this time he wanted a moment to think, and the cool winter air brought with it a crisp sense of reality that left his mind buzzing. While it should have been thumbing over the ideas of planning out the holiday sales, his mind was off on a different tangent. That damned mer.