Font Size:  

Sergey was kicked out of Oxford for cheating. He transferred to the University of Geneva where he received a degree in Economics. He holds the rank of General in the Odostan Army and officially is the Commander of the President’s Personal “Lions” Guard. Serge is also the head of the Odostan Oil Ministry and the Head of the Odostan National Soccer Club. Boy, for a trust fund kid, he sure gets a lot of responsibility from his dad.


Sergey owns over a hundred exotic cars valued at over fifty million dollars. He owns six private jets and a two hundred million dollar yacht. This guy has a pretty sweet life. I see a recentVanity Fair article entitled, “The Wild, Violent and Warped World of Odostan’s Favorite Son”. I click on the link and begin to read the article.


It starts with a description of Sergey holding a jar of acid over the head of a blogger who tried to expose the corruption of the Odostan Regime. The Dictator’s son slowly poured the acid over the guy’s face, watching as the poor prisoner’s flesh melts onto the ground. That’s it. I stop reading.


The jet takes off. I look out the window and watch the ground get smaller and smaller. Something in me is saying that this is a bad idea. My hands and feet begin to shake. Oh God. I am having a panic attack.My life is going to be in serious danger when I step off of the plane in Monaco.


My heart begins to race. I want to scream. I want to get off of this plane. This is not going to work. Mr. Peak has all of the power and poise to overthrow a government. But what am I? I’m just some girl who cheated to score a good paying job. This is way over my head.


Mr. Peak looks at me. He can tell something is wrong. “Go have a drink and relax,” my boss orders. The blonde stewardess is dutifully making a drink for my boss. I order a Vodka straight-up. No f**king around. I need to get myself buzzed or outright drunk by the time I get to Monaco.


Against my better judgement, I go back to reading the article:The only thing more feared than Sergey Molidak is the entourage of steroid infused personal bodyguards whose duty include beating those who stare into the eyes of Odostan’s favorite son, ensuring the young man gets into any top club, restaurant or event and procuring supermodels for the evening’s entertainment.


Great. So I not only have to worry about this crazy guy, I have to watch out for a bunch of lunkheaded bodyguards. I click off the article and listen to some chillwave music on iTunes. The stewardess returns with my drink. My head is spinning. I need to zone out for a while.


***


My eyes open up as the plane lands in Teterboro, New Jersey. Wow. Seven hours goes by fast when you get yourself nice and drunk. I feel hung over. The Gulfstream doors open. Mr. Peak goes out to stretch his legs. I stumble outside. It’s nighttime. We walk across the tarmac as my boss runs his hand into my hair.


“Looks like you emptied an entire bottle of Vodka all by yourself,” Mr. Peak announces.


“And I haven’t eaten a thing today.”


“Not good for a small girl like you.”


Mr. Peak gets on his phone and makes a call. As he talks on the phone, I gaze at the Manhattan skyline in the distance. My boss hangs up and says, “We’re having a full course dinner ready for us when we get back into the air.”


Wouldn’t you know it. About thirty minutes later, an SUV shows up with a cart of salad, roasted chicken, steak and dessert. My boss certainly knows how to get anything he wants, whenever he wants it.


We go back aboard the Gulfstream. The food smells great! I start off with a Caesar salad. Then I dig into this really juicy roasted chicken. To top it all off, there is a slice of real New York cheesecake. This is certainly a far cry from the usual airline food.


After that great dinner, my worries are behind me. I start thinking about the great time I am going to have in Monaco. Mr. Peak gets on his phone and begins to talk to various people in French as well as some other languages I can not decipher.


I return to my iPad and continue my research on Odostan. I have to stop being a wimp. Yes, Sergey is a f**king maniac. I could die. But if you don’t risk it all, you can’t win it all. I look at my boss and this is a man who backs down to nothing and no one. Because he backs down to nothing and no one, he has everything. I want everything. I want to win.


As the Gulfstream flies over the Atlantic, I continue to learn more about the brutal Modilak family. Both President Yuri Modilak and Sergey Modilak are degenerate gamblers. This may explain why Mr. Peak insists on the meeting taking place in Monaco. Sergey won’t be able to resist the Monte Carlo casino. Perhaps, if I can keep him gambling, he won’t notice that General Zhukov is off planning the overthrow of Odostan.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like