The Sullivan's group Headquarter has always been a mountain of competence. Piled up through years of consistent, harsh and adept hardwork coupled with a horrible reputation of being brutal at business. One would expect the owner, Micheal Sullivan himself to be the Chairman, but the man—perhaps through an attempt at being humble or reasons best known to himself—had given control to his board despite holding the largest shares.
For a man like Sullivan who thrived on control and the acceptable fact that every living thing wanted what was theirs to remain theirs, it was quite unexpected when he didn't move to automatically make himself Chairman. But the man has always been licentious in nature.
Sullivan had grown to become Vice Chairman since his days of establishing the group of companies. His strategies were vicious, sometimes a little over the edge but he knew the perfect way to bridge the law and skirt around it to reach his goals.
His board of directors consisted of the mix of humans and non-humans—with most of the humans unaware of the sort of company they worked for and the kind of specie the man of the house is.
Sullivan's car came to a halt at the basement of the executive parking space. The building had won the best architecture for the past five years, and it hasn't been due to his influence or the biting thrill that everyone wanted to do him a favour and secure an association with the man.
No. The building was perfect. He laid the ground foundation himself...sketched it block by block and brought it to life.
There would be a board meeting this week as he had received in his email at dawn. Joan, his other assistant, joined him the minute he got into the elevator and he was quick to ask.
"Has Brook prepared the video compilations?" Hands in his pocket, he watched the number as they went up, his mind still stuck on the event of the previous night. How could he have brought such imagination alive? So much that he had to question his own reality.
And Anna…avoiding him after acting as though everything would return to normal. He really wanted to speak to her but he feared appearing like a man that was crowding her thinking just because she lived in his house.
"Yes." He swiftly responded, remembering he had helped her with it.
Joan sneaked a glance at his boss. The past decades has been quiet and fulfilling. He thought Sullivan was conceding to loneliness. That perhaps the man has silently abjured to being away from any affairs of the heart or body after his very tragic experience. He was amazed to find three years ago, that he was helplessly obsessed with a woman.
A married one. And a human. He couldn't be more surprised but Anna hated him, a little too openly. Sullivan kept his way, and Joan and Brook were glad to know things would move smoothly. At least until they had to move away from here and start elsewhere.
Three months ago had brought it all to the ground. He and Brook had barely managed to talk Sullivan into being lowkey and easygoing as the Chairman position was open. After Anna's accident, the man lost himself in her. Ignored most of his work and sullied his chances at making Chairman.
The board had appointed an interim chairman and finally a voting is to be done this week and he hoped they wouldn't bring up the recent discrepancies in his attitude towards work. He hoped, a bit too much, that Lady Sarki was wrong and that Sullivan hasn't dipped his leg into the same pond that brought about his destruction and abdication.
As they walked into the office, Brook joined almost immediately while Joan informed him of the document that needed his approval.
"Good morning." She greeted, her voice as methodical as her clothes. A dull beige suit that had now taken over her wardrobe, all thanks to Sullivan's misunderstanding of her taste. She placed the flash next to his computer and he raised his eyes. "I accessed the nearest CCTVs and made a compilation of the accident as discussed. Nothing out of order."
Sullivan didn't say a word as he inserted the flash and was quick to find the videos, the mountain of urgent documents pulled to his left, absolutely forgotten.
Brook reached for the bar and passed him his favorite drink, the content obscured in a packaged paper coffee cup. All courtesy of the discreet restaurant their kind always frequent.
Her voice was a little higher when she spoke next. "The senator has been insistent on a meeting in the past few days but of course, I made sure to cancel as always."
"Good." He seems satisfied. "Evil is best kept far away." but Brook was still standing even though his sentence was an obvious end of conversation.
Sullivan raised his head again, her cold blue eyes seeming to warm up once he looked at her. He leaned back a little and raised a brow. Her lips were carved in unspoken words and he let his eyes roam to the scar above her brow.
"You have something to say."
"Yes." She cleared her throat and stepped closer to the table. "It is about Miss Harbinger."
Sullivan almost found himself smiling. Of course it is. Joan had the same look of worry on his face minutes ago. Was it his recent tardiness to work?
"Go on."
"I am concerned for your well being and…state of mind. For how long will the lady be staying? Lady Sarki tells me you cannot have proper meals with her around."
"I haven't had proper meal in decades Brook."
"I am just…" she met his gaze. "...I am worried that you might turn…"
His shoulders tensed and his next words were spoken with a coldness that hinted to his growing annoyance. "My private affairs are for me to worry about. Whether I decide to fraternize with a human today or a demon tomorrow, it will not be your cross to carry."
"Of course." She gave him a small bow and exited the room. He was not a man that listened to anyone but she had to try.
After she left, Sullivan focused on the compilation. The type of bomb that been attached to Anna's car was a millitary grade and for some reason, he was yet to find the root of it all. He knew her ex-husband and sister-in-law were involved but they had to have a backer. How else was Gigi able to pull off such a move?
Sullivan had gone through his company's entrance CCTV for as many times as he could remember yet nothing seems out of place. It occurred to him that the surrounding ones could be of use so he had asked Brook to hack into them and make a compilation for him.
Two hours in and he was yet to see anything out of order. He had watched the video about three times now, letting his eyes go over every detail, regardless of how painful it seemed.
The way Anna had swerved towards his budling. The look of horror on her face as she knew she was about to crash. Her screams for him to get out of the way. He clenched his hand around the pad, watching for the fourth time, the explosion that rattled his world so much, it cursed him with a brief of his previous tragedy.
The scent of burnt flesh was in the air, wafting around with lovely lavender mixed with a base of rosemary potion. The chaos that surrounded them encapsulated him like a blanket of peace. A warmth he craved.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Bare feets mixing with slippery blood and mud. An authenticity that followed him everywhere. Thin lips kept moving and his senses were at their peak as the words followed him around like a cloak of skin he couldn't peel off, fervently desperate to remind him of the sort of monster he has always been.
"...what you have done…Michael you are not a man capable of love."
By the time Sullivan dragged his memory out of that abysss, the video had gone past where he saved Anna. Brook was rushing behind in her car while Joan and the police were maintaining order at the scene as the few people around gathered towards the area. It was chaotic and for a second there, he had thought he would lose her.
She was not his and would never be but he wished for the lady to be happy. He didn't mind himself behind the scenes leading her to peace but he never again wished to experience such pain. Just as Sullivan was contemplating checking the entire city's CCTV back to where Anna was driving from, his eyes caught something on the camera.
Adjacent from his building, stood a figure obscured in total darkness. He zoomed in but it was impractical as it merely blended with the dark. Just as another ambulance geared towards the chaos, the blinking red lights hit the broken street pole in front of his building.
It bounced against it, made several angles and finally refracted on several objects around. That's when he saw it, a sort of ring wrapped around the figures hand. Sullivan paused the moment as he enlarged the image before him.
Some kind of regal ring, the redness of the stone a precision he could carve with closed eyes. Sullivan's gaze darkened as he shut the tab and reached for the fourth drawer to his left. He brought out a shining silver gun, loaded it with special imprinted bullets, tucked it safely at his waist and grabbed his suit jacket.
He should have known. Once a traitor, always a traitor.