Calvin's Industry

Chapter 9: The Declaration of War.

When Calvin hung up, he was sitting in his friend Martin's living room, staring at his laptop screen. A countdown timer showed two minutes until he went live on MeTube, and even though he had only announced it an hour ago, over 5,000 people were already waiting in the chat room with the numbers still climbing.

Hearing him throughout the call, Martin put down his phone and shook his head.

"With the way you keep secrets from your wife, I'm surprised she hasn't divorced you yet."

Calvin seemed to be more focused on the live feed, refusing to look away from the screen before adjusting the camera angles and lighting. The live video had to be perfect, but he heard what Martin said.

"That's exactly why I'm doing this. That's why I'm willing to destroy Nathan Harrington. Abigail trusts me to protect her and everything we've built together, and I won't disappoint her."

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah, love sure makes us do crazy things. But this is way out of your league, Calvin. What you are about to do is insane. I know you're partly doing this because Nathan insulted your wife and dishonored your mother's memory, but right now you are putting targets on both your backs. Abigail would be put in lots of trouble because of this, and yet it's somehow because you care for her?"

Now he looked up from his computer, and as always, Calvin's grey eyes showed nothing but determination, not insanity.

"I would burn down the entire music industry for Abigail, Martin. That woman is worth every risk I could ever take."

Now the timer showed 30 seconds. He leaned back in his chair as Calvin straightened his tie and stared directly into the camera.

"Well then," Martin said with a smile that couldn't hide how worried he was for Calvin and Abigail.

"Let the music wars begin."

When the lights turned red, his entire presence changed. Gone was the meek friend and loving husband Martin and Abigail cared for.

In Calvin's place was a frightening person Martin didn't recognize. The viewer count suddenly exploded with the live chat flowing so fast that it was impossible to read.

"Good evening, everyone," he said.

"My name is Calvin Constantine, and tonight, I'm going to tell you all why Nathan Harrington and every music label like his deserves to burn to the ground."

* * *

The sound of Nathan's black Mercedes could be heard across the street, moving so fast that the speed limit seemed like a joke. He was angry right now, and Nathan's large hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

He knew Calvin was up to something, but Nathan couldn't put his finger on it, and it annoyed him. It felt like his empire was crumbling with every second he wasted, and something needed to be done quickly.

The automatic duplex gates recognized the unique license plate and opened without him slowing down. All tires screeched as the car parked in the circular driveway facing Nathan's older son's home.

It had been two years since he had seen his son, two years of pretending Frank didn't exist after the big scandal in Miami. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and the front door was already open like his wayward son was expecting him.

He walked inside without knocking, as if his son Frank was expecting him.

"Can't you knock like normal people?"

The voice cried from across the living room not far from the entrance. But he didn't seem the least bit moved by that question.

After all, Nathan had paid for every brick in the house, so he walked into the place and found his son sitting on the biggest leather couch with a lovely young lady sitting on his lap. She wore a red dress that cost more than most people's cars, but the moment she saw Nathan's seven-foot frame walking in, her smile disappeared.

She got off Frank's lap like he was the plague while Nathan still stood where he was. As always, his large shadow stretched across the expensive Persian rug and stopped right above Frank's head.

He looked at the lady with a raised brow, and she quickly grabbed her purse and ran upstairs without saying a word. Then Nathan looked back at his son sitting on the couch.

"Why do you always gain so much pleasure in scaring away my dates?"

Frank asked this as he lit a new cigarette with shaking hands.

"And why are you still dating married women?"

Nathan fired back as he stepped closer. Each step clicked against the floor like a countdown timer, and the old fear Frank had for his father began to rise in his mind again.

"Didn't you learn from the scandal in Miami? Who is this one?"

He took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Her name is Rebecca, and she's different from the others."

Nathan laughed so hard that Rebecca thought the sound alone would shatter all the windows upstairs.

"Right. Just like Senator Morrison's daughter and Judge Parker's wife were different? How many more scandals are you willing to dump on my doorstep before getting your act together?"

Frank took a deep breath as he blew out some smoke.

"I haven't been your son for two years. You threw me out like I was nothing, and yet now you talk to me like my actions still affect you?"

A few seconds passed before he said anything. During that time, Nathan focused on the young man's face.

It was thinner now, with dark circles under his red eyes. There were so many whiskey bottles on the table that one would think they were Frank's collection of trophies on a short shelf.

"Yes, you are right. I did throw you out, and rightfully so."

Now he was angry, trying to resist kicking his father out.

"But Calvin Constantine just changed everything."

Frank laughed with a bitter smile on his face.

"Right, the great Nathan Harrington needs something. You never visit unless you want to use people. What made me suddenly useful to you now?"

He sat beside Frank, patting his shoulder in a way that made him uncomfortable.

"Thankfully, you are still smart. I like that. I'm building a new studio that will be an alibi for my label, and I want you to run the talent acquisition. Find the singers that will make us money."

Frank frowned when he noticed the unfamiliar address on the card.

"Where on earth is this place?"

"It isn't built yet, so construction starts on Monday. It will have premium equipment and run on an unlimited budget. Calvin thinks he can destroy what I've built, so you will teach him some respect by proving him wrong."

He shook his head.

"What makes you so confident I won't screw things up like last time? If I recall, my mistakes alone cost you millions in legal fees."

Then he leaned toward his son's ear until his nose almost touched Frank's jaw.

"I'm trusting you because you are cornered with nowhere to go. You know what it means to lose everything, so you won't repeat the same mistakes. Also, because if you repeat those mistakes, I will destroy you, and we both know that I'm not talking about your career."