you’re sure, then I better get home to my wife before she serves me with divorce papers.’ Another weary laugh, which fizzled away, the other man sensing Alejandro’s tense mood. ‘Oh, one last thing. I had my assistant compile the shortlist of PR firms for you. Jameson PR has the most extensive experience in Asia. I think at this stage we need all the help we can get.’
Alejandro finished the call and hung up. Snatching the towel from around his neck, he dropped it and padded naked to his dressing room. His signature grey suits, black shirts and bespoke pinstripe ties were within easy reach. Selecting a charcoal suit, he dressed with military efficiency, and was heading out of the door fifteen minutes later.
The drive to the Loop, the financial heart of Chicago, took less than ten minutes. The early hour meant very little traffic and Alejandro gained marginal satisfaction from letting the engine of his Bugatti Veyron roar along the quiet streets.
But nothing could ease the iron-hard fist of unwelcome knowledge trapped in his gut. Nor the accompanying rage that mounted with each passing second.
He’d moved from Spain, the country of his birth, to California at the age of twenty-one, and then relocated to Chicago a year after that because he’d wanted nothing to do with his family. The move from Spain had been to remove himself as soon as it was legally possible from the volatile quagmire that was his parents’ sham of a marriage. Alejandro had put several thousand miles between himself and the two individuals biology had used to create him, and never looked back. Little did he know he’d been placing himself within touching distance of another powder keg in the form of his half-brother.
Gael Aguilar.
He was half of the equation that had worsened the acrimony in Alejandro’s life over two decades ago. Gael and his mother had put faces on the hitherto faceless monsters that were his father’s indiscretions. Those monsters had grown until Alejandro had had no choice but to leave the only home he’d known.
But the nightmare hadn’t been ready to let him be.
Gael had arrived in California shortly after him. And Silicon Valley hadn’t been large enough to contain the two of them. Especially when his younger half-brother had started making himself a nuisance by going after the same deals Alejandro showed interest in. Wiping out Gael’s burgeoning e-commerce start-up would’ve been an easy accomplishment for Alejandro. But that would’ve indicated he cared one iota about the life he’d put behind him. It would’ve given the impression that the countless instances of infidelity, rancour and falsehood that had peppered his childhood still had the power to matter.
So he’d walked away.
He might be an Aguilar, but he was so in name only. Nothing about it was worthy of being lauded. He’d cut all ties. As far as he was concerned, he existed in this world alone.
Except his half-brother hadn’t got the memo. A decade after meeting for the second and final time, it appeared Gael was determined to insert himself into Alejandro’s business once again. Or at the very least, scurry away with the deal Alejandro had worked tirelessly to pull together.
Turning off his engine, he launched himself from the car and crossed the underground car park of his company’s building. Entering the lift that would take him to the top-floor offices of SNV International, he recalled that last exchange with his brother when Gael had found out he was leaving California.
‘I hear you’re relocating your business. Why? You scared I’m going to show you up?’ Gael’s white smile, cocksure, taunting and tinged with bravado, had reminded Alejandro too much of their father’s, eliciting nothing but cold indifference.
‘Don’t kid yourself. My company is successful enough to thrive anywhere in the world. But perhaps you should count your lucky stars that I’m leaving and removing myself from the temptation to crush you into the dirt. This way you at least have a hope of making something of yourself.’
His brother’s smile had evaporated like mist in sunshine. A look Alejandro had ironically recognised in himself—one of implacable will and determination—had passed over Gael’s features.
‘I look forward to the day when I make you swallow those words, hermano.’
Alejandro had shrugged and walked away. He hadn’t bothered to tell Gael they would never be true brothers because they’d never meet again. Crossing paths once when they were teenagers had been bad enough. A second time, in their twenties, was overkill.
He’d thought there wouldn’t be a third.
Except, walking away hadn’t ended it. Foolishly, it seemed Gael had taken offence at his words at their last meeting. And like a damn virus he was determined to corrupt as many of Alejandro’s dealings as he could.
He strode into his office as the April sun rose over Lake Michigan. Normally, he stopped to admire the view as he enjoyed his morning espresso. This Monday, however, he tossed his car keys on his desk, tugged off his jacket and went to work.
By 9:00 a.m. he had definite confirmation that it was indeed Gael meddling with the Japanese deal.
He sat back in his chair, fingers tented together as he forced down the acid bite of distaste. Gael’s company, Toredo Inc., had grown into an e-commerce powerhouse second only to Alejandro’s own company. Not for a single moment had that reality fazed him. His company was worth billions, and more than held its own in the industry. At times when he felt generous, he even welcomed Toredo’s competition.
Not this time. Bagging this deal would launch SNV into an echelon of its own. It would be the culmination of the success he’d striven for since walking away from the tatters of what the common man termed a family. Others might accommodate such failures. He didn’t. He’d cut his losses on an irredeemable life because nothing he did could fix what was permanently broken. Instead he’d concentrated on what he was successful at. He’d made his first million at twenty-four, just before he left California. In the ten years since, he’d risen to the top.
The Ishikawa deal would be his crowning glory. He’d worked too long and hard to see it dismantled by Gael.
His strategy team had suggested hiring a PR company experienced in dealing with Japanese companies to work alongside his in-house PR department. Alejandro had shelved the idea until negotiations had stalled. Although he still had his doubts as to the efficacy of employing an outside PR company, he opened the first file.
The headshot caught his attention immediately, although, staring at the picture critically, Alejandro couldn’t pinpoint why. Her mouth was too wide and full, her nose a little too perfectly pointed. Her almond-shaped hazel-gold eyes held too many shadows, and, for his taste, she was wearing a little too much make-up; he preferred the natural look. The shadows and the make-up alone jarred him further into memories he didn’t want to dwell on. Like the memories of his brother, they were reminiscent of a past he’d striven hard to forget.
Yet he couldn’t drag his gaze away from Elise Jameson’s picture. The almost absurd notion that if he stared for long enough the image would come to life gripped him. His gaze dropped past her jaw and neck and he experienced the tiniest stab of regret that there wasn’t more to see.
Gritting his teeth, he perused her academic accomplishments, which were impressive enough to compel him to read on. The discovery that Jameson PR was a family company brought a twisted smile, but Alejandro suppressed the useless threat of emotion. Not every family was as dysfunctional as the one he’d left behind.
Suficiente!
He
