5. Heir

Rome Kittiyapan is the nephew and heir to OmniVentures Ltd. and everything from the designer labels on his clothes to the luxury car he drives says as much. Actually, he’d rather work at a non-profit than the main corporate branch of the company, but his uncle got dangerously quiet whenever that was brought up, so Rome had learned to keep his head down and his mouth shut. Eventually, all of Chalam’s employees learned to do that, whether they were related to the CEO or not.
Which is why he’d made sure no one saw him eavesdropping on the conversation between his uncle and Nail that morning, or heard when he called Mali afterward.
The look on Mali’s face when he’d picked her up tonight made him think twice about asking questions. He’d just driven to the address she gave him, and stayed in the car while she went inside. After about five minutes, he was tempted to turn the car back on so he could run the AC. But he also didn’t want to drain the car battery, and he has no idea how long Mali will be in the condo.
Apparently, longer than five minutes.
Rome gets out of the car, checking his watch again. Most of the windows in the condo building are dark, but there’s one light on in a room on the top floor. Is that where Mali is?
Exactly how much trouble is Kai in?
Rome met Mali’s younger brother when he had attended a university open house the year that Rome had graduated. Kai had hung around the lobby of OmniVentures corporate office while Mali was interning there, so Rome had gotten to know him even better. The three of them even had dinner together once a week. When Chalam took Kai on as his own intern, all the employees assumed it was because either Chalam had seen Mali’s work ethic and believed Kai would work just as hard, or he was doing his nephew’s girlfriend a generous favor.
All the employees except Rome, that was.
Because Rome knew that his uncle never did anything without a hidden motive.
And that motive is anything but generous.
Rome’s phone buzzes. He doesn’t need to see the name above the message to know who it is. The text is short, and to the point.
CHALAM: My office. Right now.
Well. That could mean a whole lot of things that Rome isn’t in the mood to figure out yet. As he slides his phone back into his pocket, Mali finally comes out of the condo building.
“Who was on the phone?”
“Nobody important. Is Kai ok?” The look on Mali’s face has already answered the question, but Rome asks it anyway.
“I saw what your uncle’s enforcer did to him.” Mali tries and fails to keep her voice neutral.
“Don’t call Nail an enforcer,” Rome gives her a grim smile to soften the warning a little bit. “At least, not to his face.”
Mali says nothing as she gets back in the car. Rome lets her sit in silence, driving down the street for a little bit before asking another question. “Is it bad enough that Kai will need to take time off?”
Rome is fully aware of Nail’s brutal efficiency. The last time Nail was sent to “talk” to someone, the rival CEO died quietly in the hospital while Chalam just as quietly took over that man’s company.
“Time off for an unpaid intern?” Mali’s voice pulls Rome back to the present. “Will your uncle allow that?”
“Kai isn’t technically on his personal payroll, so I don’t see why not.” Rome sounds more confident than he feels. “Your brother can take as much time off as he needs. Did you find out what was taken?”
Mali shakes her head. “I can’t exactly question Kai if he’s unconscious. Jet doesn’t seem to know either.”
Hearing the worry in Mali’s voice, Rome glances sideways at her. Her posture is rigid and she stares ahead of her without seeing anything.
“Mali, I told you when you started this that I would help you,” He takes one hand off the steering wheel, so that he can take Mali’s. “I meant that. All you have to do is tell me what you need.”
Mali’s fingers are as tense as her voice. “Right now, all I need is to know my brother’s safe.”
“Ok,” Rome strokes his thumb along the back of her hand. “Kai can have all the time off he needs, and I’ll deal with my uncle and Nail.”
Mali doesn’t say anything, but he can feel the muscles in her hand slowly loosen, and she doesn’t let go of Rome’s hand until they reach her condo. Calming Mali down helps Rome squash down the knot of dread that’s building up inside him.
He hates that he is the heir to such a twisted business empire. There isn’t much he can legally do about changing it, though.
Chalam had taken control of OmniVentues when Rome was ten, shortly after the deaths of his parents, with the understanding that he would transfer the company to Rome once he reached adulthood. Now, four years past his coming of age, Rome is in charge of several smaller branches of OmniVentures while Chalam is still CEO with full decision making power. Rome couldn’t even stage his own hostile takeover. All of the shareholders were deep into Chalam’s pockets.
The CEO and his nephew don’t live in a condo--they live in a house. A massive split-level structure with two kitchens, five bedrooms, a gym, pool, well maintained garden--and fingerprint locks on the exterior doors that Chalam meticulously controls. In short, the house is a perfect symbol of the state of this uncle-nephew relationship.
As Rome had grown up, he spent more and more time at the top of the house, while Chalam lived on the lower level. Their interactions now mostly occur at OmniVentures’ corporate office, or Chalam’s personal office at the house.
“You’re late,” Chalam rarely greets his nephew anymore, just scolds him--always with the same two words, and always expecting an apology, which Rome never gives.
“But I’m here,” Rome takes a seat opposite Chalam, and waits for the older man to speak.
The office is at the back of the house, furnished with a desk and two chairs in the center of the room, and an armchair in the opposite corner. The chairs in front of the desk have lower seats, so the occupant has to look up to see the man behind it. Velvet curtains suffocate the windows even in the scorching summer heat. There are no ceiling lights, just lamps, which means the room isn’t brightly lit even in the middle of the day. Rome has never been sure if the lighting in this room is used as an intimidation tactic or not.
On the surface, uncle and nephew look exactly alike--soft dark hair, dark eyes, smooth faces. While Rome’s face and eyes are open, trustworthy, and expressive, Chalam’s are closed, sharp, and deadly as the dangerous fish he gets his name from.
“Were you with your little intern?” Chalam doesn’t even bother to keep the sneer out of his voice. “The two of you have been spending a great deal of time together lately.”
“Mali’s my girlfriend.” Rome keeps his own voice level, knowing full well that his uncle is trying to needle him. “She hasn’t been my intern in over a year, and so far as I’m aware, I have your permission to date her. Which means I’m not violating workplace conduct.”
Actually, dating Mali presented quite the conflict of interest, considering their professional relationship. Rome wasn’t exactly sure why Chalam hadn’t objected, but he also wasn’t about to quibble if his uncle was making allowances, even if he suspected the ulterior motive behind it.
“Your…girlfriend,” Chalam rolls the words over his tongue. His sharp eyes move over Rome’s face, looking for a reaction. Clearly, he wants to draw this conversation out as long as possible.
Rome is not in the mood for whatever lecture Chalam has prepared. He leans forward, looking his uncle directly in the eye.“Why did Nail assault Kai?”
“Assault?” Was that a flicker of emotion in Chalam’s eyes, or just a trick of the light? “What reason would my assistant have to ‘assault’ my intern?”
“You tell me,” It doesn’t help Rome’s mood that Chalam puts the word assault in quotation marks.
There the room becomes quiet except for the rhythmic tapping of his uncle's fingers on the polished wood of the desk.
Chalam taps his fingers when he’s nervous.
When he’s hiding something.
Rome feeds the silence, making it grow. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just keeps his gaze locked on Chalam’s face.
“The boy took something that wasn’t his.” Chalam leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I simply sent Nail to get it back.”
Since Rome has overheard that conversation, he doesn’t dispute that point. “What did he take?”
“Nail has recovered it, so there’s no need to worry.” Someone other than Rome would quail under the deadly look that Chalam shoots in his direction.
“Recovered by force, from what I’ve heard.” Rome doesn’t bother to keep the disgust out of his voice. “Was it something worth killing for?”
The muscle in Chalam’s temple starts to tick in tandem with his fingers. “Perhaps Nail was a little--overenthusiastic in his retrieval methods.”
Overenthusiastic? Rome tamps down on the urge to put his uncle’s head through the wall.
“In other words, now that you have the information back, the company’s ‘reputation’ remains intact?” Part of Rome knows he shouldn’t push, but the other part doesn’t give a shit. “What about Kai?”
Chalam’s smile is thin.“If what you say is true and he was injured during his--conversation with Nail, then he will be compensated.”
“Good.” Rome gets to his feet. “Kai’s taking some time off.”
Now there’s another muscle ticking in Chalam’s face. This one is along his jawline, and seems to be pulsing independently from the one in his temple. “I’ve received no request.”
“I’m making it for him.” Rome is enjoying looking down on his uncle a little too much.. “You’re accepting it.”
Chalam opens his mouth either to protest or reprimand, but Rome is done. He’s out of the room before his uncle can say anything. Chalam’s teeth grind together, as Rome leaves the room. This conversation did not go according to plan.
“‘Overenthusiastic’ doesn’t sound right.” Nail steps into the pool of lamplight in front of the desk. There is a splint around the last three fingers of his right hand.
“Eavesdropping is inadvisable.”Chalam’s own hand moves away from the top drawer of the desk where he keeps his gun.
“So we both made mistakes.” Nail doesn’t sit in the chair opposite Chalam. He stays standing, just out of Chalam’s reach.
“We did.” Chalam’s voice is low. Someone other than Nail would quail under the sounds of those rapidly tapping fingers. “Is your hand still usable?”
Nail hesitates, then forces humility into his voice, lowering his eyes in what he hopes will be seen as a gesture of regret and sincerity, but he nearly chokes on the words. “I would like to apologize--for eavesdropping and my…overenthusiasm.”
“I have no interest in paying the hospital bills of an intern,” Chalam’s voice is carefully neutral, and Nail is half tempted to raise his eyes. “Particularly that one. Did you at least complete the task I sent you to do?”
“He didn’t have it.” Nail’s answer is almost inaudible.
The fingers stop drumming. Tension thickens the air, but Nail keeps his eyes fastened on the carpet, rather than his superior’s face, forcing himself to stay still. He did not become Chalam’s most trusted subordinate by retreating whenever threatened.
The next moment he is sent reeling, face stinging with the force of Chalam’s backhand. Nail recoils and then is propelled forward by that same hand now clamped around the back of his neck, head slamming into the top of the desk so hard he sees sparks.
“Nothing?” Chalam hisses just above his ear. “This was a very simple task, Nail. I fail to understand why you were unable to carry it out.”
This is the second time tonight that Nail has been grabbed by the neck, but he knows better than to struggle when Chalam uses that tone. The wrong word, the wrong look, would be not just a demotion, but further physical punishment.
Nail’s voice is a little muffled due to his mouth’s proximity to the desktop. “We were…interrupted.”
“The boy attacked you?” Chalam’s sarcasm is cutting. His fingers dig deeper into Nail’s neck. “I find that very difficult to believe.”
“Not Kai,” Nail raises his eyes so that he can meet the shark’s deadly cold ones, which is a little difficult to do considering the angle at which his neck is bent. “Jet. Jet Saetangmasawat.”
Chalam’s fingers go slack. It’s not clear whether the CEO’s face has actually gone white or if it’s just the lamplight making his skin seem paler than usual.
Nail straightens, grinning at his superior’s unasked question. “He tried to kill me.”

"6. Familiar" 

Read from beginning: "1. Ignored"