Christmas with the Beast (The Fiore Family 1)

My insurance company as well as the police are investigating the crash, and so far all they will tell me is that it wasn’t human error. So there was a mechanical malfunction that killed three people and destroyed my life. I take a deep breath, knowing that I’m getting angry and it does nothing to benefit me.

My temper boils most days when I look in the mirror. Although I’m dressed in a pair of expensive gray dress slacks and a crisp, clean white shirt, I look like shit. My scars run deep from my face down to my knees, the worst being my thigh where a piece of shrapnel embedded itself into my thigh muscle.

Wheeling my chair down the hall, I head to my office to get to work. I have blinding headaches, so I don’t get a lot done; my vice president has taken over making most of the decisions. Luckily my plate was almost empty when this happened, Mr. Morimoto being my biggest prize.

Mia’s sitting at her desk, which I had moved into my office. At present, I only live on the first floor of my castle-like mansion. Everyone calls it a castle and I suppose it has everything but a moat, but most of it has been modernized and it’s the exterior with its spires that gives it that castle feel.

“Good morning, Franco. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Mia. I’m good enough to start checking things out. And before you start, I’m not going to push it. I do have a PT appointment in two hours, and François is making my breakfast.”

“That’s great. I’ll go over a couple of things. Most of it is simple paperwork and sign-offs, but there are some issues with regard to the accident,” she says, finishing the ending just above a whisper.

“What is it?”

“Well, the insurance company wants to turn everything over to the FBI. It wasn’t just a malfunction. They found something foreign added to the helicopter that may be the source of the stall.”

A chill runs up my spine. “What?” My ears are ringing. “Why? Who?”

She walks around and presses her hands to my shoulders. “I’m not sure, but you need to take it easy.”

“I need my meds, Mia,” I grunt, feeling my world spin out of control.

“I’m getting them and calling the doctor.” I don’t argue because my chest hurts. It could be anxiety or something worse.

“Fuck. I’ll have to skip work today. I just can’t do this.”

“I should have waited.” She heads over to the cabinet and unlocks it, pulling out my whole tray of meds. “What do you need?”

“My head’s throbbing.”

“Okay.” She grabs the pain meds and a bottle of water.

“Thank you.”

“You should go lie down before it gets worse.” I nod and roll my chair out of the office. At Mia’s direction, my head of security helps me back onto my bed. I definitely need more time. Revenge will be mine as soon as I find this person.

As I close my eyes, my head goes back to the person who lives inside of my soul. I need you, my sweet Isabelle. With her, my dreams always ease, even if her presence is only in my head.

****

By the next morning, the shock of yesterday’s revelation has passed and anger has set in. The doctor ordered me to rest for the next few days, but I’ll be taking that with a grain of salt. Revenge, reckoning, and ruin will get me through this. There’s no need for me to search for the killers when Morimoto laid them out…his children.

He doesn’t have any grandchildren, so I won’t feel bad about what I plan to do, but I will own everything he had and then find the evidence I need to eviscerate those involved and have them sent to prison for the rest of their lives.

I work for hours, calling in favors, making new contacts. “Hello, this is Sean Cavanaugh.”

“Yes. This is Franco Fiore. I was wondering if you had a team of people that could do some work for me.”

“It depends on what kind of work.” I read off a list of things I need. The last one bothers him, but he still agrees.

“Honestly, I could ask my brother and he wouldn’t hesitate, but I don’t want him made aware of my plans. He’ll worry too damn much, and I’ve put my family through enough hell for a lifetime.”

“No problem.”

****

Two days later while sitting in my office, I’m hooked into my brother’s security cameras in Fiore’s, looking back at the day I met Isabelle to see if I was followed, watched. I review the footage, but my eyes drift back to the kitchen area and suddenly revenge is out of my head and lust has taken hold.

On the screen is Isabelle as she greets me. The smiling blush on her face reminds me that she felt it too. I pause it and print out a picture of the image for my own personal collection.