Page 1 of Chemistry: The Chemist

PROLOGUE

“I am not a drug dealer.”

The words I’d spoken time and time again rolled effortlessly off my tongue. Unbuttoning the last button on my right sleeve, I prepared to roll it up slightly. The one on my left wrist and the two closest to my neck had already been undone.

If I needed more reach, more room, to get active, I didn’t need the twelve-hundred dollar shirt becoming a hindrance. Burning bread was never on my list of things to do, but if the top got in the way of my progression, I’d gladly toss it in a tin of flames.

“I am not a seller. I am not a handler. I am not an abuser. I am not a promoter. I am not a smuggler.”

Carefully, I observed the mannerisms of each man who sat before me. Though their faces were concealed, I knew every detail about each of them. Their identity wasn’t the mystery. Mine was. So was our location and the meeting in session.

Within twenty minutes, which was the time it would take anyone to reach the address that wasn’t available on any mapping system or satellite, they’d be dismissed. However, they wouldn’t be the same men who sat down before me. They’d be a lot richer. A lot smarter. More valuable. Highly sought after. Fully protected.

“Nonetheless, I understand I cannot save the world or the people who have chosen those paths. So, making substances safer, grander, and extremely unique is my life’s work. What I have created can’t be duplicated, stepped on, or mistaken for anything else.

“I’ve curated one thousand eight hundred twenty-seven strands of the purest, rarest white on the market. I am not interested in or addicted to even one of them. Your clients, nevertheless, are. That is why you are here and that is why your budding empire needs me.”

Straightening my slightly misaligned posture, I relieved my spine and squared my shoulders. Taking one step at a time, I treaded the concrete flooring that had been cleaned a hundred times or more. Splattered brains and puddled blood were fed to the hard surface almost as much as forbidden food was spoon-fed to a baby who wasn’t quite ready to stomach solids, according to physicians.

“I am a Chemist. I am The Chemist.”

One by one, I removed the jute bags from the heads of three men. Immediately, visions of their scattered craniums flashed before my eyes. Exposed lobes appeared just as I began to wiggle through the creases of my own. Seconds passed us by until I was able to shake the thought of brain matter and dislodged hearts.

Thanks, Catherine.

Blinking away the bloodshed and tapping back into the moment, I continued my stride. Only this time, I was no longer in front of the men. I remained behind them, daring either of them to attempt to turn. The wrong movement could be their last.

“I am a single element that will take your business to heights you haven’t considered in the time my product can make it happen. If you’re here, it means you’ve passed every test and without a doubt in my mind, you belong here.

“Not because I said so but because two of the most important people in my life said so. I trust their word over my very own. Being here is not a privilege you should take lightly. It is an opportunity of a lifetime.”

Pausing briefly, I took a good look at the new squad. Each represented a few million in my account. Simultaneously, they could also represent the downfall of my empire. That was always the risk taken when recruiting, but we’d done the homework. Extensive homework. Everyone seated was legit.

“Underneath your chairs, you’ll find documentation with a few steps for you to execute to put the plan in motion. When you reach for your file, do not get curious. Turning around, at any point, could mean the end for you.”

Slowly, cautiously, each man reached underneath their seat to obtain the file that had been tailored to their hustle. A standard business model didn’t fit everyone who walked through my door, so we created a different one for each person according to their current revenue, location, customers, and proximity to danger.

I observed the trio intensely, keeping my eyes trained on their bodies as I studied their movements. To my dismay, I locked eyes with the man in the middle. Quickly, he turned his head in the opposite direction, but he wasn’t quick enough.

Disobeying orders was the quickest way to get buried in my line of business. He’d just tested the theory. Without a doubt, I knew it would be his last time testing anything. It was a fucking shame.

BLOW.

“Che–”

Expanded nostrils and a hiked eyebrow quieted her before she could complete her thought. I pushed forward, out of earshot, to address the woman staring at me with conflict.

“He turned,” I explained to one of the few people in my life I felt I owed an explanation.

She and six others who were almost identical were the only women in my world who could get a word, rise, or dime out of me.

Seven, the consuming voice in my head corrected.

Seven. The woman who’d birthed them couldn’t be forgotten.

“Fuck,” she mumbled, already calculating the time it would take her to clean the mess I’d made.

It wasn’t the task or my actions that had her biting her tongue and shaking her head. Those pretty eyes were remorseful. That pretty heart was hurting. Tilting my head, I smiled.

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