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“Come back here, you coward!” Brinkman shouted as he shuffled back from the gory scene. His eyes bulged as he watched the sand turn dark with a pool of blood as the lifeforce of his bodyguard sapped from his body.
Sanchigo didn’t indulge in watching the macabre pageant; rather, his regard remained steady on Chiara. A taut grin briefly etched itself onto his features—a momentary crack in the façade of his usually impassive demeanor.
“Why the fuck did you do that for?” Brinkman lamented. His demeanor had become placid and submissive with fear settling like a heavy cloak around his shoulders.
Sanchigo ignored him. The air was thick with tension, the charged silence speaking volumes. Chiara’s widened eyes, and the stifled scream that caught in her throat, bore witness to the visceral impact of the scene. He was gratified by her reaction. Her training, the rigorous preparation under his guidance, had started to yield results. The fact that she halted the scream before it fully emerged was evidence that she was adapting and learning to control her reactions in the face of stark violence.
“Jesus! The man’s wife just gave birth to their first child,” Brinkman wailed.
“His death is on your hands since you were the one who set him off against Bulldog,” Sanchigo dismissed his woeful protest with a negligent snort. “Violence ignites adrenaline and excitement that causes the brain to short circuit. Then, the human mind soaks in the danger of issuing threats, especially when faced with someone as powerful as me.” His voice lowered. “Are you ready to listen now, Mr. Brinkman?”
“Stop playing games. Say what you came here for,” he retorted mildly as he visually struggled to overcome his fear at being the next one whose blood would soak into the sand.
“Never overestimate your power, Mr. Brinkman, especially not in the world of crime. In the end, there can only be one king in a castle, and I have no intention of being the prince.”
“You’re talking about the Golden Wizards?”
“An institution with such a vast variety of powerful individuals can’t have more than one leader, Brinkman. It’ll never work.”
“It’s my money that reformed the group. Mine! I should have a say in how it’s run.”
“No, my dear friend, you’re slightly misinformed, which once again proves that you didn’t do your homework. Who was the one to approach you about reforming the group?”
“No more riddles. Get on with it, Sanchigo,” he snapped.
“Do you honestly think you were the only one who sweetened the pot of gold that is needed to keep the law off our backs?”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
“You, Brinkman, are one of many who invested in the Golden Wizards—recently registered as an Angel Investment firm. Yep, we’re one hundred percent legitimate now.” He barked a short laugh. “For all intents and purposes insofar as the law is concerned.” He held up his hand as Brinkman opened his mouth to talk. “You have to choose what is most important to you. Achieving business success and having economic power with money to go with it, or to rule a dark underworld you have absolutely no insight into how much viciousness it entails and requires. You can’t have both.”
“Then what the fuck do I benefit from being a Golden Wizard?” Brinkman protested.
“Money. Lots of money. A monthly influx that you won’t have to lift a finger to earn.” Sanchigo leaned forward and continued in a grating voice. “I don’t play in your dollhouse, Brinkman. Stay out of mine if you know what’s good for you.”
“So, I must just believe and trust you? Without any guarantee? Why? So that, as before, I get fucked all over again and lose more money? No fucking way.”
“All the money you invested in the foiled banking scheme was never guaranteed. You were warned, along with everyone else that the venture came with risks. If you want to play with criminals,nothingis ever guaranteed. I suggest you remember that. Like all the businessmen who bought into the Golden Wizards, your role is that of a silent partner. All you need to do is keep a low profile. Be the king of the corporate world. I will do what I’m a master at and ensure your coffers are filled… but it will be done my way.”
“I’m not—”
“This meeting is over. A conclusion has been reached. If you don’t agree, Bulldog will—”
“There’s no need. I understand that you wish to play king. So be it, but I’m warning you, Sanchigo, if I don’t see a return on my investment very soon, fucking crime lord or not, you will learn that even corporate businessmen can play dirty.” That said, Brinkman marched off, mumbling as far as he went.
“Why did you bring me here?”
Sanchigo kept his eyes on Brinkman until he drove off before turning to Chiara. A Cheshire grin splayed on his lips.
“Violent rage, the hulk smash mode, if you wish, can be switched off forever by dependable love and a removal of the dog-eat-dog elements of our societies. It’s the world you grew up in and one that needs to be extracted from your memory banks.” He pointed to the dead man at his feet. “When the primitive brain takes over, when the prefrontal cortex is switched off, primal things happen with permanent consequences. Remember that, Chiara. Never act on instinct. Think, plan, and then act, but always within the short time span you have available.”
“A lesson? You brought me here, forced me to watch this cruel murder to teach me a lesson? And you call yourself my supposed father?” The despair and horror ciphered through her voice that thickened with tears as she realized his aim was to destroy every memory she had of her previous life.
“Only if you can tell me what the lesson was, my child. C’mon, I’m waiting. What did you learn here tonight?”
“That you’re fucking demented!”
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