Chapter 133

***Levi***.

The meeting finally finished. My absent mind perused the files that my secretary presented before me.

My head nodding to almost everything she said.

"Sir? Are you sure you're approving demolition of that building? You said so yourself, it's an architectural wonder."

Her alarmed voice jolted me.

I looked at the file.

A 19th century building in Louisiana that I was asked to renovate by the municipality, for use as a museum. It used to be owned by one of the richest Creole families, back in the day.

I was distracted. Barely made any contributions during the meeting. I only grunted my response, most of the time.

"Can you leave me with these until tomorrow, Renee. I'd go through them." I informed her.

What I really wanted to say was, '*I've ruined my home Renee! I've no fucking way of fixing it.'*

She looked at me, concerned, before she nodded and left. Leaving the files.

I stared at the walls of my office, everything closing in on me. Even this spacious office suddenly seemed hundred sizes too small. My phone blared from an incoming message.

***Albert Bethel: Hey man. Am in town. Catch up at Possess?***

I looked at the phone for several seconds. I had no idea he was around. He was rarely around, with his secret life. And his business affairs that took him all over the world. Hadn't seen him in months.

***Me: Sure. Be there in a flash.***

At least someone to lift my spirits. Welcoming the distraction, I left.

Fifteen minutes later, I was strolling into the interior of Possess Club and Casino, New York.

Albert and I had convinced Liam to open a joint in New York, when New York had requested an outlet.

Like the other Possess outlets, well furnished.

For a Monday evening at 7:50pm, the bar well attended.

I located Albert in his VIP booth. He was alone, absently watching a lone stripper as she danced on stage.

"Hey man." I greeted as I sank into the seat across from him. He regarded me, studiously.

"You look like crap," Albert said coolly. "For a man, who married recently, that is."

He was teasing. He had the weirdest sense of humor.

I broke into a smile. "Good to see you too. You sort of missed the reception, so you're not one to talk." I teased back.

And like that we sank into our usual ease with eachother.

Albert Bethel, businessman, Ex-Navy Seal. A social recluse; still remained my closest friend after all these years.

We had drifted apart, when my father died, and a year later, his father shipped him off to the Navy.

We had kept in touch for a year. Both of us, lost in a world our fathers had carved out for us.

Then one day, he went quiet. Ignored my calls, messages. Zoned out on me.

I had seen it as it was; effects from pressures of the real world and I had allowed him. Swamped by my own pressures.

I had given up hope on ever seeing him, knowing our paths became different.

Then when I turned twenty five, a man who called himself Albert, but didn't as hell look like Albert, strolled into my office.

A different man, when I saw him.

He had on dark leather gloves in the month of July. Spotted a small pony tail and a sun kissed skin. Only when I looked into his eyes, I recognized Albert.

Deep, ocean blue orbs, like his late mother's. But behind those eyes, the Albert I knew was gone. Just like me. Our bodies replaced by dark souls.

"How's your wife?" Albert asked, after we had caught up with lost times.

He just returned from a business trip in Italy, but he didn't elaborate further.

I futilely tried on a peaceful expression.

"She's fine." My words came out clipped.

I was reluctant to talk about her, about us.

My phone rang in my pocket and I picked it.

Amanda Preston.

I puzzled as I answered. "Hi."

I had grabbed her number from Kenya to call her on her birthday.

"LeLeviPleaseI've been calling Kenya for minutes now and she isn't picking up. Just now, her number went straight to voice mail. Am worried about her. She didn't look good before she left." Amanda panicked. I panicked.

"What happened? When did you last hear from her?" I asked, worriedly. Rising to my feet. Albert equally did the same, watching me concernedly.

"Like an hour ago. II told her about us, years ago" She cried. *Us*? I grew confused. "How we had met at a club, when I was 18 and you hadyou hadOh God how do I say this?" She broke down.

I was confused. *Us?*

"Where are you?" I asked her, already rushing out. Albert was close behind. "What do you mean us?" I needed to know where Amanda was. It would help me trace Kenya.

"I was the girl you had refused to sleep with, years ago at a whore house. The one who had been a virgin," she said. I couldn't remember her. I couldn't comprehend anything at the moment. Right now, I was concerned about my wife.

"Apollos." Amanda's voice came. I halted.

"*You*?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Memories tangled with that name rolled in.

*Apollos*, the strangest name I had ever heard for a pleasure girl. I remembered the masked girl that I had talked to. That had listened to me. I remembered her voice, when she had asked me to take her. And I had refused. Choosing to taste her instead.

"*GodYou're Apollos?*" I muttered into the phone. This was bad. *Kenya*. I felt sick. "Where are you?"

"Mountain Crest."

I tried to relax. "I'd let you know when I find her. Get some rest."

An incoming call slipped in, just as I was hanging up.

"You have until 12 am, to inform the nation on Seven Forty-five news, that you're withdrawing from the elections, or your wife dies."