From Betrayal To Billions

CHAPTER 9

The courier arrived at the Parkinson’s gate at the early hours of the morning. Jace watched through the high windows as the uniformed man handed Reynolds a cream colored envelope sealed with candle wax.

“It’s the Foster crest.” Reynolds observed, turning the envelope around his fingers. The wax bore the family’s cheetah emblem—an animal frozen middle of its bounce.

Jace slit it open with his grandfather’s pocket knife. The card inside smelled faintly of freshly lawn grass and….sandalwood?

“To our dearest Jace,” it began in flawless hand writings, “The family would be honored to welcome you home for dinner this seventh of October.

Formal attire: Black suit and tuxedo.

We have waited twenty years for this reunion—let us celebrate it properly.”

Reynolds exhaled through his nose and muttered, “they are being unusually….cordial.”

Jace ran his thumb over the golden letters and shrugged. “Cordials can be tampered with just as easily as a cheap whiskey.”

Mila entered with the morning reports, but paused suddenly due to their long stares and grim faces. Her eyes flickered to the invitation in Jace’s hands.

“Is there a problem, Mr Parkinson?”

Jace slid the card over to meet her, across his desk and replied, “the Fosters want to break bread.”

Mila’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up. “Camille Foster was an old friend of mine.” She said carefully. “Her lemon cake then, used to be…memorable.”

Jace stared at her silently for a while and nodded. “Tell Reynolds what to expect from the kitchen staff.”

Foster Manor’s gates swung wide open later in the evening and Jace noted every camera, movement or statue on the wide open grounds.

The butler who greeted them had the posture of a retired soldier. “Mr Parkinson. Mr Reynolds. The family is awaiting you in the drawing room.”

Every step through the grand dim lit hallway was a pinch of controlled opulence…

Portraits of stern faced ancestors hung slightly bent, artificially designed.

Fresh orchids and green roses in Porcelain jars and huge Ming vases…their scent just enough to mask other odors.

The faint buzzing sound of active noise generators…eavesdropping obviously not allowed here.

Marcus stood by the fireplace, the flames casting long shadows across his Versace suit. As soon as he saw Jace, he boomed, “Cousin.” His smile showed exactly eight teeth and cold eyes. “You look well.”

Aunt Lydia floated forward in Dior heels, her perfume a cloud of jasmine and something medieval. “Oh my darling boy.” She cupped Jace’s face with her hands that felt like chilled paper. “We have kept your room exactly as you left it.”

Jace remembered no such room, but he smiled. “How thoughtful.”

The dining table could have seated thirty but was set for twelve. Jace noted the place cards…

His seat between Camille and uncle Gregory. Reynolds strategically placed by the kitchen doors at the far end of the room. No sign of younger cousins…the children had been excused from this reunion. Probably all gone to bed early.

First course…Oyster with margarine.

Camille dapped her lips and asked icily, “Mila had always loved our chef’s oysters. Does she still take lunch at 1pm?

Jace’s fork hovered with his mouth open. “You know her habits well.”

“We shared a dorm at the La Rosey,” Camille laughed. “She would always trade her dessert for my Lemon cakes.”

Second Course…Roasted steak with black truffle

Uncle Gregory stirred his wine glass dramatically. “Your father had impeccable taste in wine. Pity about his medical ambitions.”

“Pity?” Jace asked softly. Placing firmly a cheerful mask to cover up his distrustfulness.

“Yes. It was a waste of potential,” Gregory amended smoothly. “Though you have clearly inherited his…determination.”

Main Course….Roasted duck with sweet cherry sauce.

Marcus raised his glasses and said cheerily, “to more family reunions. May this be the first of many.”

The lavish hall was soon clouded with light murmur and head nods.

Moonlight shone rays of silver light on the rose garden where Marcus led Jace for cigars. The security cameras here were obvious…placed on the high fences…meant to be seen.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Marcus gestured with his gold plated walking stick. “Grandfather imported these rose form India, the year you were born.” And offered him a cigar.

Jace declined the cigar with a nod. “I prefer to keep my head clear.”

Marcus laughed with precision. “Always cautious. Good.” He blew a perfect smoke ring. “The board meets Thursday to discuss the Montgomery acquisition. I will be recommending approval, ofcourse.”

“Ofcourse.” Jace nodded.

“Though….” Marcus tapped his cigar ash over the railing, “some question the….personal nature of your terms. The hit was so direct on them to be coincidental. Maybe you know them personally…?”

Jace watched the glowing ember fade off. “Buisness is Buisness. They are actually favored, all thanks to the friendship the Montgomery CEO and my grandfather shared.”

“You are very correct.” Marcus smiled. “Then Shall we rejoin the ladies?”

At the door, on their way out, Aunt Lydia pressed a velvet box into Jace’s hands and say sweetly, “Your grandfather wanted you to have this.”

“What is it?” Jace asked surprises

“Oh…open it darling.” Aunt Lydia replied.

Inside the box, lay a pocket watch with the Parkinson’s crest on it—the same one Jace’s father had pawned for his medical school tuition.

Reynold stiffened and pointed. “That’s….”

“…..a replica,” Lydia interrupted breezily. “The original was lost years ago, sadly.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Do visit again soon. We are expecting you.”

In the car, Jace opened the watch’s casing. A tiny chip glittered where the wires should have been.

Reynolds inhaled sharply, “That’s…..”

“…..the same model, even from the same company,” Jace finished. “They have been listening longer than we thought.”

His phone buzzed with Mila’s report….

‘Camille just called me for brunch…surprisingly…what should I do?

Jace smiled. ‘Nothing. Go ahead.’