Philanthropy Pt. 03

"What now?"

She took my hand. "Come fuck me. That was seriously hot. I'm in desperate need of relief and my toys won't cut it anymore."

"Anything you say, buddyguard..."

"I have a ten-inch strap-on I've been saving for a special occasion..."

"Did I say buddyguard? I meant Shanti, darling."

"Better."

* * *

An hour later, we emerged freshly showered back into my living room. We sat on the couch and I pulled out my tablet and started working on the code to start the Mean Girl Offensive. Shanti spoke to me as I typed.

"I think you better write out a list of people you care about. Friends, relatives. Anyone that matters to you. They'll be targets."

I barely had to think about it. "Amber."

"And?"

"That's it. Amber."

"Friends? Family?"

I shook my head and then tested my new code. I had friends, many had shown up after I nearly died but if I was honest with myself-which I always am-they were more colleagues. People from work and my team and the like. As for friends I should worry about? I could only think of Amber and Amanda. I frowned at the error that appeared on my tablet and opened up my source code and scanned it.

"I know you've a reputation as being a complete asshole, but you must have some friends?"

I didn't. High school had been a nightmare. I had been the geeky little quiet kid that people shunned and imagined coming in one day with a shotgun. I used to glare at them sometimes and then write in a little notepad. That always seemed to work to keep people away from me. And nicer to me.

Truth was high school bored me to tears. I was reading much higher-level stuff. High school felt like grade school. I intentionally did poorly on tests to keep myself out of any limelight. I had completed an online university degree before I received my GED. Computers spoke to me. Not literally, but figuratively. They spoke my language. I could see what I needed to write, and I wrote it. Simple as that.

I'm a billionaire because of this gift, although it doesn't feel like a gift. I honestly don't understand how come everybody can't do what I do. It seems so obvious to me. When most kids were trying to get laid in high school, I was writing code for people all over the world and paid quite handsomely for it.

"So just Amber?"

I nodded and then found the error in my code. I was so stupid. I corrected the syntax error and ran the compiler.

"Okay. Amber's already been taken care of. An associate of mine is guarding her."

I looked up at that. "How many people do you know?"

"A lot."

I ran my code and it performed flawlessly. I opened up some scripts I had prepared earlier and fed them the new code and ran it. "Okay, Operation Mean Girls is started."

"The Mean Girl Offensive," corrected Shanti.

"Yeah, that too. Say, Imani said you two go way back. London, Paris and other places. How does a lawyer, even someone from EMB Cessna, know an ex-SAS operative?"

"Says the man being targeted by an international crime syndicate and hiring me as a bodyguard..."

"Right." I looked at her and she was smirking at me. I leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. Her eyes widened and then narrowed. I was starting to enjoy seeing her do that.

"You have to stop that."

"Why?"

She chuffed. "Because you are distracting me. I have a job to do and I can't when you're like that!"

I shrugged. "So, we hire another bodyguard..."

"Why would you do that?"

"So I can keep kissing you when I want."

"You're an asshole. Anyway, I'm the best. I won't let anyone watch over you but me."

"And in six months? When you leave?"

Shanti jerked a little. Then she frowned and her nose crinkled. I resisted the urge to kiss it. "Three months and the time is counting down fast."

"Right now, we are safe in my apartment. Nothing can touch us here."

Shanti snorted and rose. She looked out the window and then pointed at the building a little way off. My condo building had an unobstructed view of the river. I had bought most of the surrounding land to ensure that. However, a quarter mile away was another condo building.

"See that building over there? I could easily take the shot from there. Easy kill."

I looked over. The building seemed too far away for that and I said so.

She scoffed at me. "It's only a thousand meters away. Almost anyone could make that shot. The world record is held by a Canadian sniper in Iraq. Over 3,500 metres. That's two miles."

"Wow," I said, impressed. I thought I remembered an article in McLeans Magazine about those special forces guys. They had been poorly treated by the Canadian military or something. "What was the record before that?"

"British record. Close to 2,500 metres."

I looked at her. "SAS?"

She grinned and pointed at herself and walked away.

I truly didn't believe her.

* * *

Later that night, I proved to myself that Shanti hadn't taken that British shot. It was some dude. I think Shanti was trying to fuck with me in small ways. I grinned. I was really liking her.

I contacted Betty, my former live-in nurse, and asked her about her friend who was going to nurse Amanda. She had a lot of praise for the woman and said she would be perfect for Amanda. I asked if she could come help with Amanda, too, but she declined, saying she had a boyfriend and that I was too big of a temptation. I felt hurt. Not really, but I faked it on the phone call. I missed Betty. She had really been there for me at the lowest point of my life.

The women in my life were starting to get wise to me. I pondered moving to another country and then watched Shanti snoring in bed beside me. She slept with her mouth wide open and snored loudly. The sheets were down at her waist and I admired her tits for a while. It's strange seeing her hard muscled body with her soft B-cups kind of just perched on her chest like attachments. I admired her hawkish face, strong bones, and the corn rows of her hair. She truly was gorgeous.

We had fucked pretty awesomely before we slept. I treated her to a full body massage and had her groaning in appreciation. I was firm with my hands and kneaded all her iron-bound muscles until they relaxed like a slab of concrete relaxes in the warm summer sun. It doesn't. My massage turned into something more, due to my bringing her to a gentle orgasm as she lay on her front, by fingering her between her slightly spread legs. She rolled over and we fucked missionary. Slowly and gently. I knew Shanti liked it rough, she was built for it, but tonight I treated her like a princess, and she soaked it up. We came together, snuggled, and her snores in my left ear had me smoothly rolling off her, covering her up to her waist, and letting her sleep.

Amanda would be here in two days. Her room was ready and had its own bathroom and shower. She would be comfortable here I knew. She had lived here so much over the past few years that in some ways I felt this was her place, too. I was worried about her. Worried she would blame me and hate me. It had been my fault. Everything that had happened to her was because of me.

I worried about the overdose and whether she would become addicted. Shanti had snorted at me and told me to google it. I did and felt immense relief. Amanda meant a lot to me. She had always been there for me and understood me probably better than anyone. She respected my need for isolation and gave me my space. She was probably too good for me. And I had rewarded her by getting her involved with the Carvers.

Which reminded me. I opened up some new code I was writing. I did mention I worked for a software company, didn't I? Our most popular software was used in the business sector and by investment firms. It hasn't made me as much money as my other ventures, but it's a steady paycheque which makes me feel like I'm actually contributing to society, and I have a great team of people working for me. Mostly kids like me who needed a chance to break into the industry. Software engineers are rarely paid well and work in sweat shop conditions with some companies. Not mine. They're all set for life financially. Which pleases me.

I worked on the new code for a couple of hours. Shanti stirred and rolled over and threw an arm and a leg over me. I put my tablet on the bedside table and turned out the lights. I shifted down until my head hit the pillow and closed my eyes. Shanti's hand reached down, still asleep, and cupped my balls. It felt nice and I fell asleep.

* * *

The next day at eight-why-the-fuck-so-early, Shanti and I were escorted into a rather large boardroom at EDM Cessna's Canadian headquarters downtown. I saw Imani was there with Amber and a few other well-dressed lawyers I had never met before. There was a quiet man, sitting a little away from everyone and typing into a MacBook. There was a large conference phone in front of him.

I hugged Imani and Amber and managed to steal a quick grab of each of their asses rather discretely. Shanti punched my right kidney and I stopped and took my seat. Shanti and I were sitting on one side of the massive boardroom table, and all the suits-and two skirts-sat on the other side.

I swept my gaze over them. "You'll never make me talk, I tells ya! Never!"

The man on the laptop snorted and kept typing.

Imani and Amber sighed together.

The man sitting directly across from me, frowned a tiny bit and leaned forward with his hands clasped in front of him on the table. "Mr. Chase, thank you..."

"Peter, please. Mr. Chase was my dad."

He frowned deeper at the interruption. He clearly wasn't used to that. This was going to be fun. "Mr. Chase, thank you for stopping by. We wanted to appraise you of some facts and concerns regarding the Carvers. I assure you, before we begin, your client confidentiality with Ms. Jones extends to all partners, associates and employees of EDM."

"How nice," I said.

"We will also require you sign a few non-disclosure agreements. What we have to say must remain confidential."

"Interesting. How about you tell me first and I decide if I want it to remain confidential?"

The surprise on his face was worth seeing. He was a middle-aged man, looking very much like a lawyer. His hands were meticulously manicured and flawless. I had never seen hands so useless for actual work before. Everything about him screamed vanity. And he still hadn't introduced his team. They all sat there like pigeons on a park bench.

"Mr. Chase, it simply doesn't work that way."

"Says who?"

His frown deepened and he looked at Imani, who smiled and shrugged. "I tried to warn you, Mr. Parker."

"Mr. Parker!" I exclaimed. "That's who you are. So nice to meet you. I'm Peter Chase, you can call me Peter."

Amber turned to look out the window to hide her smirk.

Mr. Parker seemed a little flustered now.

I looked at all the other lawyers. Faceless people with no names. "Listen, Imani asked me here today to talk about the situation with the Carvers. Here I am. I am not signing a damn thing until I know what the hell I'm here for. Save that bullshit for some other stooge." I looked at Shanti. "Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk."

Shanti shook her head.

"See here, Mr. Chase, EDM is prepared to invest heavily in this situation with our resources around the globe. NDAs are standard practice in cases like these..."

"Case like what?" I interrupted him.

"Cases like yours. Dealing with the Carvers and their..."

"Their what?"

"Mr. Chase, please..."

"Please, what?"

"Mr. Chase! Enough of the childish behaviour!"

I looked down at the man on the laptop. I could see the corners of his mouth were curled up. I looked at him closer and he felt me watching him. He looked up at me and I smiled.

I stood up and went over and sat near him and looked back at the others. "Imani, Shanti and Amber. You stay. The rest? Sashay away..." I thought it sounded like RuPaul, that was my best attempt.

Mr. Parker stood looking flustered and angry. "Mr. Chase!"

The man on the laptop smiled at me and shook my hand. "Hi, Peter. I'm Phil Monday, the managing partner here at EDM in Canada. Thanks for stopping by. We have a few things to discuss. Bill? You can take your team and leave. We'll talk later."

Mr. Parker looked deflated, nodded, and ushered the suits out of the room. Imani, Amber and Shanti joined us at our end of the table.

"Why the charade?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I find it separates the chaff from the wheat. We get so many posers here. All looking for judicial financial rewards. Litigation, money, revenge, all that shit. I did warn Bill it wasn't necessary this time. Imani has explained everything to me in detail, and I looked into you. You come across as an asshole, but you actually are quite the philanthropist, aren't you?"

I looked at Shanti. "A philanthropist is a person who likes to promote the welfare of others." She blinked at me. "No need to be embarrassed if you didn't know what the word meant."

Shanti punched me right where my rib cage ended on my left side. It fucking hurt.

"Ouch!"

"And Imani warned me about your flippancy," he chuckled.

I rubbed my side. "Okay, shoot. What's going on?"

He looked at his watch. "Almost time. The International Criminal Court, the ICC, will be dialling in soon. I wanted to quickly bring you up to speed before they do."

I leaned back and so did he. He reached out and lowered his laptop screen. He wore a nice suit, not too expensive, but tasteful. His hands were rough, a nail was split, and they looked like a man who worked with his hands. He saw me looking at them.

"I own a horse farm outside of the city."

"Horse farm?"

"Yes, my wife is a veterinarian and breeds Shire horses."

"Shire?"

It was Shanti that answered. "The Shire is a British breed. A draught horse. Kind of like the Budweiser Clydesdales." I looked at her and saw the glint in her eye. She wouldn't forgive me trying to embarrass her anytime soon.

Phil looked pleased at Shanti's knowledge. "Yes, exactly. Owning a horse farm means lots of chores. Our three strapping boys help out, but it's a lot of work. But we digress, we aren't here to talk about me. We are here to talk about the Carvers.

"Before the ICC calls in, I want to be sure you understand everything that is happening. There's a lot you don't know and after speaking with Imani I thought it best you be brought into the fold, as it were. First you need to know that there is a large international effort to bring down the crime organisation that the Carvers are involved with. They started out as lawyers with them, defending the scum here in Canada, but they have branched out significantly and have become larger players. You've decided to kick that wasp nest and you've already seen the price. You nearly died from a horrific beating and your friend Amanda almost lost hers."

I didn't need the reminder.

"I won't go into too much detail about what the ICC is doing, but they are very interested in the Carvers. Mostly because they believe the Carvers can lead to other convictions much higher up in the organisation. When Imani told me about you and what had been happening, I looked into you. There's not a lot there about you. And I found that interesting. In time, I recognised it was what I wasn't seeing that said the most about you. You're a very private person. A rough childhood. Losing your parents as a teenager. Abuse at school. All the typical shit that every angry teenager wants to have to justify being angry at society. But not you. It looked like you withdrew from society, but in actual fact you didn't. Not really. What you couldn't hide were all the people who came in contact with you over the years. Every single one of them has benefitted somehow. Bursaries, windfalls, job interviews, surgeries, the list goes on. I wish I had met you early on in life. Every life that touched yours walked away better for it."

Amber snorted.

Phil smiled at that and nodded. "And the women in your life, too. Although it appears you leave them somewhat wanting."

Shanti murmured under her breath, but we all heard her. "You don't know the half of it."

Phil laughed. "But that is neither here nor there. The concern, Peter, is based on what I've seen of you, you also have a very vindicative streak. You go for the jugular of those who cross you. Never physical harm, more of a financial one. Suddenly people lose stocks, or investments, or their businesses and houses. Bank accounts disappear. It's all very strange. But you're very good. Nothing, and I mean nothing comes back on you. Did you know the ICC has started a file on you? Like me, they couldn't see you in any of this. But they could see that anyone who came in contact with you suffered financially."

I felt calm. I always knew the little things I did would come and land at my feet one day. I also knew there was no way in hell they could stick any of this to me. So, I just nodded "Interesting," was all I said.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Amber staring at me.

Phil smiled at me. "Yes. I just wanted you to know that we know. Nothing more. Not a threat. Not anything really, other than to underline that we are absolutely terrified that you fuck up a worldwide effort to bring down a massive crime syndicate and cartel. We've asked you here so we can share with you what we know and hopefully get you to stop whatever it is you are planning. Before it goes too far. And hopefully assure you that we know what we are doing."

I sat and thought about what he said. He was being honest with me and sharing details I would never have known otherwise. I was content to listen. I nodded.

Phil smile got a little wider. "Excellent. Truly, thank you. So, before the ICC calls in here's what's happening. First, we need the Carvers disbarred. Internationally. Canada has tried repeatedly and failed at every attempt. Disbarring can be difficult to achieve. In simple terms, a lawyer can be disbarred for the commission of any act involving moral turpitude, dishonesty, or corruption. This is true whether the same be committed in the course of his or her relations as an attorney or counsellor at law. It can be bloody hard to achieve when the lawyer hasn't committed a felony act, but his client has, and you need to prove the lawyer was somehow involved in that.

"There are several reasons to disbar an attorney or counsellor. His or her conviction of a felony or misdemeanour involving moral turpitude, in which case the record of conviction shall be conclusive evidence. Or wilful disobedience or violation of an order of the court requiring him or her to do or forbear an act connected with, or in the course of, his or her profession, which he or she ought in good faith to do or forbear. Then there is a violation of his or her oath as an attorney, or of his or her duties as an attorney and counsellor. If they corruptly or wilfully, and without authority, appear as attorney for a party to an action or proceeding. Lending his or her name to be used as attorney and counsellor by another person who is not an attorney and counsellor.

"For the commission of any act involving moral turpitude, dishonesty, or corruption, whether the same be committed in the course of his or her relations as an attorney or counsellor at law, or otherwise, and whether the same constitute a felony or misdemeanour or not; and if the act constitute a felony or misdemeanour, conviction thereof in a criminal proceeding shall not be a condition precedent to disbarment or suspension from practice therefor. There is misrepresentation or concealment of a material fact made in his or her application for admission or in support thereof."

I was really starting to glaze over. His words were hypnotic, and I understood maybe half of it, but Phil was on a roll and just kept talking.

"Disbarment by a foreign court of competent jurisdiction. Practicing law with or in cooperation with a disbarred or suspended attorney, or maintaining an office for the practice of law in a room or office occupied or used in whole or in part by a disbarred or suspended attorney, or permitting a disbarred or suspended attorney to use his or her name for the practice of law, or practicing law for or on behalf of a disbarred or suspended attorney, or practicing law under any arrangement or understanding for division of fees or compensation of any kind with a disbarred or suspended attorney or with any person not a licensed attorney.