Page 87 of Man of the Year

I’m ecstatic. The music in the car is blasting. Despite my going off at the fool earlier, he looks cheerful. For the first time, he’s in the passenger seat next to me, instead of in the back seat like a king. And he still doesn’t get the clue.

In ten minutes, he’ll go night-night forever.

As we pull up to The Splendors, I want to sing on top of my voice. I’ve already packed the essentials: Ix paperwork, fake documents, and that sort of stuff. A flight to Singapore leaves at six in the morning. I don’t need to be in the US—I can finish my business elsewhere.

The Splendors’ gate opens, and the security guy salutes me. I wish I could kick all the staff in their faces.Morons.All of them have looked down on me in the last half a year like I was some third-rate employee. Like them.

Not even close, idiots.

I drive up to the entrance and contemplate walking in and having dinner, like the king of the mansion that I am. I’m done slumming it in the guest house. On second thought, I’m so sick of this place and the stupid faces around me that I decide against it. I’d better not ruin my appetite with the chores I still have to do.

First, Natalie. Then Phil.

No. Maybe Phil first. He is a parasite I need to get out of my way, then I’ll have a chat with Natalie, maybe fuck her. I do need to blow off steam. Then I’ll give her the last injection.

I park my Maybach and check my phone. IxResearch shares were released to the stock market hours ago, and they are already raking in record numbers.Good.I can wait until midnight and then start transferring more company funds out. I only need my passkeys and a laptop. I can do it from the airport.

“Go to the guest house,” I order Phil, who’s still waiting for me to open the door for him.

“Why?” he asks, confused.

“Because I said so,” I say and get out of the car.

Julien is walking out of the main entrance of the mansion. This guy somehow thinks he is superior to the rest of the staff, while in fact, he is here to follow orders like everyone else.

And he’s walking slowly, with his hands cupped in front of him, the usual empty stare of a robot on his face.

Except, I notice the change in his clothes. That’s odd—Julien is dressed in all black, some sort of maintenance guy getup. Everyone is getting out of hand in this place.

I’d love to rub Julien’s nose in the dirt. But as I see Phil getting out of the car, I realize that, in the staff’s eyes, Phil is still the Rosenberg who hired them.

This is beyond annoying.

“I told you multiple times not to use the main entrance. It’s not for the employees,” I tell Julien. I’m done being a nice guy around here. “Mr. Rosenberg wants all the staff in the kitchen.” I need all these ants in one place, so they don’t interrupt what I’m doing for the next two hours. “There are things?—”

I don’t finish, because Julien moves so fast that I don’t understand what’s happening until electricity shoots through me like I touched exposed wires. My body locks up and then starts jerking uncontrollably. Words clog my throat. I’m shaking but I can’t move my own limbs.

Behind me, Phil starts yelling and fighting with someone, but I can’t turn to him, can’t ask for help, can’t do anything, paralyzed by the electric current. My eyes burn. My muscles twitch. My legs give out, and I collapse onto the ground.

SIXTY-SEVEN

NICK

I try to protest when Julien duct-tapes my hands and then wraps the duct tape around my body, pinning my arms to my sides. But I can’t move, paralyzed by the zapper that the fucker used on me.

He slaps duct tape over my mouth, then hauls me to my feet.

“Walk,” he orders, pushing me and holding me by the neck, his fingers digging into my flesh so hard that I wince and howl. But the sound that comes out of my mouth is a muffled moan.

Panting through my nose, I stumble forward.

Where’s Phil? I can’t turn to see what’s happening, though I hear several pairs of footsteps behind me. If he gave me up, I’ll kill the asshole. Especially this one, Julien. I should’ve known something was up with him—he always seemed too stiff for a house manager.

And it looks like he’s leading me to my place, the guest house.

Fuck!

Natalie is there, in the closet, bound and gagged. Hopefully, she’s quiet enough. If they find her, I’m in more trouble than I already am.

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