Page 70 of Blind Sin

“Pourquoi?” the guard asks.

“Why?” Mercier asks the same question.

I shrug my shoulders

“Je ne sais pas, mais il dit que c'est urgent.”

“He says it’s urgent.”

“D'accord”

Mercier

Fuck Waldgrave, fuck Dacre’s parents and fuck the fucking system that led us to this place. My arms are pinned behind my back and all I can see is this fuck awful yellow floor. I twist my head so I can see what it is they’ve decided it so fucking important that they’d interrupt Peter Waldgrave with.

“Well gentlemen,” Waldgrave says, taking a seat on another sofa and stretching out. His shoes come dangerously close to my face and are polished so brightly I can see my own fucked off expression in the reflection. I look like a caged bulldog which is appropriate seeing as that’s exactly how I feel. Ready to bite this fuckers feet off then piss on what’s left.

“I guess we are going to watch my triumph live,” he crows, directing his smugness at my two best friends. It’s obvious I’m not worth the effort of speaking to me. A street rat.

“I thought I’d miss it because of you three, but I suppose it’s going to be a joy watching your faces as your world crumbles around you. This might be even better than actually being there.” He claps his hands together as the TV flicks into life. The guard skips through the channels until he finds the one he wants. A pang of anger hits me as I remember how Lauren used to watch TV all the time, skipping through the channels, memorizing which of her shows were on and when. We didn’t even have a TV in the house on the island. She didn’t need her fictional families around her when she had her real one. Us.

I don’t want to watch, but the guard decides I should by moving my head to the side, pinning it down with his foot on one cheek and the floor on the other. Waldgrave leans forward in his seat, his eyes glued to the screen as the news anchor begins to speak.

“The world has been gripped by, first the kidnapping, then the return of Lucinda Waldgrave, but that was only a part of what was going on in Oil Magnate, Peter Waldgrave’s life. As many of you know Waldgrave industries has been involved in a massive takeover of PLNCO. We’re going to cut to the Waldorf Astoria where everything is going to be signed.” The picture cuts to a scene in a hotel boardroom. Dacre groans as the camera pans to show his parents standing, a big grin on their faces. The sight of them makes my blood boil. His father is wearing a suit and his mother is wearing a dress I recognize from the apartment. I can almost smell the moth balls and lavender through the screen. On the other side of the anchor is a man I recognize William Roundbury, the owner of PLNCO. I know he doesn’t want to sell, but due to pressure put on him by both Waldgrave and the Dacres he has no choice. He’s selling it for a tenth of what it’s worth and he knows it. As Waldgrave and Dacre’s parents get richer, he and all the people that work for him are going to get shafted in every orifice metaphorically speaking.

“Jeremy,” the anchor continues. It’s not usual to have takeovers conducted so publicly, Can you tell us why this one is so special.”

A balding middle aged man with a square chin speaks directly to the camera.

“Actually it was Peter Waldgrave himself that asked that this be broadcast. After the loss of his daughter last month, and the joyous return a couple of weeks later, Mr. Waldgrave thought it would be great for the American public to see a happy ending.

“The only happy ending you’ll get is if you go to a dodgy massage parlor... That’s if they can find your dick at all.” I spit out. Predictably Waldgrave ignores me.

“And where is Mr Waldgrave and the elusive Lucinda Waldgrave?” the anchor asks.

“That’s an interesting question and one I think Mr. and Mrs. Dacre would like to answer.”

He walks over to them and holds a microphone out toward them. “Before you sign, can you let us know why your co signee isn’t here today?”

Dacre’s dad looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but being recorded on national TV.

“He’s decided to spend some time with his daughter. A you know, Peter Waldgrave is a family man and the loss of his only daughter last month was a terrible shock to him. He prides his family above anything.”

“Even a hundred billion dollars?”

Jonathan gives a nervous laugh.”Yes Jeremy. Even more than a hundred billion.”

“Marvelous, Jonathan,” Waldgrave chortles before turning to us. “I told him to say that. Of course, everything is already pre-signed by me and this is merely for show. It’s almost a shame I’m screwing him over really.”

The anger and frustration I feel at that moment are almost too much to bear. I clench my fists, feeling the urge to lash out at Waldgrave and his smug attitude, but I can only watch this nightmare unfold from thousands of miles away.

Jeremy grins at the camera. “I think there’s only one thing left to do. Sign the documents.”

Someone hands Jonathan a pen. He walks forward and holds his hand out to shake William’s hand. Right before the fucker bites it no doubt, it’s like watching vipers pretending to play nice while they all conspire to destroy each other.

I do feel for William Roundbury though. I don’t know him personally, but I’ve read that he’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve this.

He reaches out, but instead of shaking Jonathan’s hand he rips the pen from him and snaps it in two.

---