RISE OF THE MORTE CONGLOMERATE HEIR

Chapter 6

Teggo: "No, man."

Sable noticed the familiarity, his eyes narrowing. He asked straightly, "Do you know each other?" waving his pointing finger between Merk and Teggo.

Merk: "No, sir."

Teggo: "What? Are you kidding, Sable?"

Sable crossed his legs, forming the symbol “4”, rubbing his chin in suspicion. Merk and Teggo, however, are prepared for this situation.

Teggo: "Maybe this guy is my enemy. Like you. Like Zander. I don't friends with pathetic people."

Merk rolled his eyes at the insult, giving documents to Sable. "Sir, these are the documents~"

Sable: "We're in the restaurant for that?! Anyway. Are you following me, Teggo?"

Teggo: "No. I want to know the updates on the deal~"

Sable: "Here? We're talking about the deal here? How do you know I'm~?"

Teggo’s face turned slightly red, but he composed himself with brutal honesty. "Hey princess, calm down. Remember, we were here before too? Talking business here because every day, you always go here for your hot raspberry coffee. Every day, few people. No poor people. Remember?"

Sable clapped his hands in sarcastic delight. He laughed loudly. "Teggo... Teggo... Teggo... you are always a Red Hulk. Stop. C'mon, you want hot raspberry coffee too?"

Teggo: "You know I hate that. You always requested that here even though it's off menu. They are serving you that because you, the Morte is a share holder of this restaurant too."

Sable: "How about you, Merk?"

Merk: "One cold raspberry tea, Boss. Not the coffee version."

Sable: "Ok."

Sable glanced around, looking for Zander/Ice. He stood up. "Wait for me here, both of you, I'll get my wallet and phone in my car."

Merk: "You want me to get that for you, Boss?"

Sable: "No. Thanks by the way. I just want to insult Ice, every fucking day. My stress reliever."

Sable walks toward the parking lot.

Teggo immediately leaned closer. "How's Zander doing today, Merk?"

Merk mouthing the words, Burner phone. Teggo understood. He took out his expensive phone, which he used as a burner phone, to his non-work line, and messaged Merk even though they were facing each other.

Merk: (Replying as his answer, typed-in on the phone) "Zander is Ice, in this effing morning. Going here, going everywhere where Sable is, he's like living as Ice, not Zander. It's not good. Very bad."

Teggo: "I'm sorry if I go here."

Merk: "Don't do that again. Sable is stupidly smart, too. Hate that's he's a Morte too."

Teggo: "What should we do?"

Merk inhaled deeply, exhaling exhaustedly. Teggo texted again, anticipating his friend’s distress.

Teggo: "No, I know that reaction."

Merk: "I know. It feels exhausting and exciting to help Zander at the same time."

Teggo: "Hold on, man. Zander needs our help every fucking day."

Merk: "Seriously, how you and Zander became friends?"

Teggo: "Long story. Our Property Development obviously rivals, but, many years ago, Zander proves that he's a ruthless, genius, playboy billionaire heir like me. That's it!!!"

Merk: "Wow, I really forgot how me and Zander became friends."

Teggo: "Seeing him in a different face, I'm kind of scared if all of his efforts and birthright will go to Sable. Bad. Worst. Most Worst feeling. Diabolical."

Merk pocketed his phone, Teggo doing the same.

This is what Zander needs, today and tomorrow; Loyal Friends.

Merk stared out the glass door, reminiscing about his friendship with Zander. Teggo composed himself, ready for the instant Sable Morte would return to the table, and they would both instantly pretend they were strangers to the heir.

New Monday morning at 8 AM, the New York penthouse of Sable was a study in cold, aggressive luxury. The acting CEO, was in the middle of a home workout with his best friend, Dimé. Both men were slicked with sweat, the air thick with the metallic scent of exertion.

Dimé, a tall, compact man with the cynical calm of old money, slammed a kettlebell down. Sable was on the floor, finishing a set of push-ups. Sable’s movements were sharp, driven by a need to prove he is physically superior.

After the workout, they moved to the kitchen island where a meticulous, catered breakfast was laid out. Sable ate quickly, constantly checking his high-tech watch.

Teggo, the Morte rival and Zander’s most aggressive ally, was already inside the penthouse, having gained entry under the guise of an early, unscheduled business meeting. Teggo excused himself from the table, claiming he needed to use the private restroom. He used the cover to slip silently into Sable’s heavily secured home office.

The home office is predictably excessive. Teggo wasn't looking for the safe; he was checking the paper archives, specifically hunting for evidence Sable might have carelessly kept detailing the financing and planning of Zander's fatal car crash many months ago. Teggo moved with the practiced stealth of someone used to corporate espionage, his massive hands delicate as he sifted through files. He knew that Morte family members always kept a physical paper trail, no matter how much they relied on digital security.

Teggo heard the clink of ceramic plates from the kitchen stop. Sable’s voice, raised and cheerful, was approaching the office door. Sable was about to enter, and Teggo was trapped inside the archives. Teggo froze behind the wide, leather-bound desk.

Sable reached the door and placed his hand on the handle.

Just as Sable began to push the door inward, the main door to the penthouse chimed. Zander/Ice, opened the door a crack.

Zander/Ice: "Boss, your assistant... Merk is still waiting in the car. He wants to know if you are going to your office today or not."

Sable snarled, pulling his hand away from the office door. He turned, his face shifting from concentration to contempt.

Sable: "Oh good thing you remember Merk's name in a second huh... you're getting smarter with me... by my side."

Sable and Dimé laughed, loud and cruel. Sable walked toward his massive clothing room, the distraction buying Teggo the fraction of a second he needed.

Teggo slipped out of the office, his large body a shadow against the dark wall. He saw Ice still standing by the entrance, waiting patiently for his next insult. Teggo moved quickly to the clothing room entrance where Sable and Dimé were preparing. He knew Ice would not recognize him as an ally. Teggo passed the driver, his voice a low, urgent rumble.

Teggo: "Thank you, man!!! Don't mention this to Sable. We're dead, if you say this."

Zander/Ice looked confused, his generic face blank, wondering why this rival businessman was thanking him and telling him to be quiet. Teggo didn't wait for a reply. He rejoined Sable and Dimé.

As they moved toward the elevator and the parking lot, Sable was already in full strut.

Sable: "I like Ice, you know, he don't know his main job. I mean, I like him being an in-house driver and personal driver at the same time."