The guest quarters are within walking distance to the main house but still offer some privacy. Originally I didn’t want to move onto the property, but Paige said I owed her. Which is true.
I was raised in Renza, Russia, just outside Moscow. I did labor on the railways there as a young boy until one of the older guys came around one day looking for runners. I didn’t know at the time what that meant, but he offered up money, and I knew exactly what that was.
My mother died during childbirth, and no one knew who my father was, so I was given to an orphanage. I ran away when I was ten and found work where I could. The place I ran from wasn’t looking to chase down another mouth to feed, so I became a child of the street and did what I could to survive.
I started off taking packages after I finished the rail work for the day, but eventually I was trusted with more deliveries. The money was far more than I could make doing an honest day’s work, and back then I needed to eat. It was all about surviving. I was loyal to those who treated me with even half an ounce of decency, but as time went on, I began to harden my heart. Lines started to cross and I started to lose myself.
Years went on, and I became a part of the Russian underground mafia. The organization was dirty, and as much as I wanted to be loyal, I couldn’t do some of the things they asked me to. I didn’t have another life beyond this makeshift family, and I did what I could to survive.
But as with all men, power and greed began to take over, and the underground changed hands. Dissent simmered in the ranks, and everyone was trying to get off the sinking ship before they got pulled back in. I knew I didn’t want to go down, like I said, everything was about surviving, and members were being killed off one by one. There was nothing in that life worth dying for. I knew I had to get out and did what I had to.
The one thing I did have was information, and it was useful. I got a coded message sent to me at the perfect time, and I was ready for it. The contact wanted information on a deal that was taking place between a corporate giant in America and a country in southern Asia. They were concerned it could have potential ties to the Russian mafia and they wanted the Asian company vetted.
I agreed to turn over what I had in exchange for safe passage out of Russia. I wanted to disappear, and this was the perfect opportunity. I could leave my homeland and have a simple life somewhere far away. I never had dreams of fortune or fame. I was only ever just a boy trying to survive the winter. My choices led me down a dark path, one that at first I had no choice but to take, and I was ready to start over.
I found out my name was on a shortlist of those being terminated from the original underground, so I made my move. My death was staged in an explosion of a warehouse that I was living in at the time. The scene was made to look like I’d been taken out by someone looking to make a name for himself in the ranks. I found out later that the person who claimed responsibility was someone I trusted. He was killed two days later.
I arrived in Italy a week after with nothing but the clothes on my back and a USB drive in my pocket. My contact at Osbourne Corporation had been true to their word and gotten me across the borders.
Jordan Chen was waiting for me at a café by the sea in Genoa. I gave him all the information I had and then some. He gave me a new name and passport, but then he gave me something else.
“What’s this?”
“An opportunity,” Jordan says, packing up his stuff.
“So I go from one master to another?” I ask angrily.
“No. You don’t owe us anything. After I walk away we’re done here.” There is honesty in his eyes, which is a contrast to the scar on his face. “If you’re interested, we could use someone like you on this side of the world. It doesn’t have to be you, but you’re our first choice. Plus, the pay is enough for you to retire in a year or two.”
I hadn’t given much thought to what I was going to do next. My biggest hurdle was getting out of the country undetected.
“Think it over. When you’ve made your decision, call the number.”
I look down at the card that’s on top of the stack of papers. The name Paige Justice is embossed in gold, and her number is below. I’m not prepared to become someone else’s watchdog, but I don’t know if I can say no.
So that’s what I’ve done the past five years. I’ve worked for Osbourne Corp International, vetting companies they’re either interested in taking over or want to do business with. I’ve spent my time following businessmen and digging into their lives. It’s easy work and a lot more legal than I ever was with the mafia. But just like before, it’s a lonely world, and I’m tired of the isolation. Something was missing and I wasn’t sure I knew what it was. How can someone feel lonely or understand what it really is if it’s all they really ever had? But I felt it. I craved something else. Deep down to my bones I knew I was looking for something or someone.