Chapter One: Osveta
Oscar Stanley, Chief Operating Officer of Sloane Technologies, paced anxiously around the seedy motel room on the edge of East New York, waiting for the man he’d hired to arrive. He’d never done anything like this before, and he didn’t know what - or who - to expect. A wave of fear washed over him for the hundredth time since leaving his house in Park Slope three hours earlier. What if it was a sting? Della would never forgive him. Neither would Evie. It would destroy his family, his career, his reputation, everything he’d built would be gone in seconds.
Glancing at the clock beside the lumpy queen bed, he walked to the window and pulled back the grimy curtains just enough to peer out. The parking lot was mostly empty: a few battered, older-model cars parked in front of other rooms, and the shabby Chevy sedan he’d paid five hundred bucks for sitting near the front office. The only signs of life were three hookers near the lot’s entrance, talking among themselves and looking bored. He studied them for a moment, wondering if they were undercover cops, but decided they were far too emaciated and strung out to be concerned about.
Feeling everything slip out of his control, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small baggie of cocaine. Della would kill him if she knew he’d slipped back into his old habits, especially after his use in his forties had led to three minor heart attacks and two stints in rehab. But since his demotion from CEO the previous year, his life had felt like it was spiraling. Cocaine made him feel clear-headed again. In control.
He ran a hand over his bald head, trying to steady his thoughts. This wasn’t the first time he’d watched everything slip away.
Sloane Technologies had been Henry Sloane’s empire long before Oscar joined it, telephones, walkie-talkies, anything that carried a signal. By the mid-nineties, Henry had pivoted into computers and made a fortune. When Oscar’s law firm went under, Henry, who’d married Della’s best friend, Mary Wright, had taken pity on him and offered him a job in the company’s policy office. A favor for Mary, really.
It had taken fifteen years of grinding work to climb from that pity hire to Chief Operating Officer. And then, after Henry and Mary were killed by a drunk driver, the board handed him the CEO seat. Temporary, everyone said. Just until Tommy was ready.
He’d told himself he didn’t mind. He had a plan: retire, open a law firm with Evie once she graduated from Columbia Law. But then she’d thrown it all away, switched to computer science, of all things, and the argument that followed had been the worst of his life. She’d called him controlling. He’d called her ungrateful.
When he told her he wouldn’t pay her tuition or her rent, she’d handed him her car keys without a word and started packing. Della had gone after her, pleading through the door. Oscar had followed them both, shouting that if she walked out now, she could never come back.
And then she did it anyway. Walked out, suitcase in hand, straight into Tommy Sloane’s waiting arms
“You told her to leave,” Tommy said evenly. “So, she’s leaving.”
That calm, pitying look made Oscar’s blood boil. Della’s sobs echoed from the living room, high and raw, only fueling his anger.
“I’ll make sure she’s looked after,” Tommy added. Evie came down the stairs with a box in her arms. Before Oscar could say anything, Tommy jogged up, took it from her, and carried it out to the car. Oscar watched as Evie climbed into the passenger seat, her jaw tight, eyes fixed straight ahead. Tommy closed the trunk and gave Oscar one last look.
“Ungrateful brat!” Oscar shouted, slamming the door so hard a picture fell from the wall and shattered. Della cried harder, but he ignored her. He stormed into his office and locked the door, his pulse thundering in his ears.
He should’ve known Tommy was behind it all. The boy had always had more influence over Evie than he did. Fourteen years older, the golden son of Henry and Mary Sloane, Tommy had doted on her since the day they met, playing the part of protective big brother that Oscar never asked for. It had always annoyed him, that quiet possessiveness, that sense that Tommy knew what was best forhisdaughter. And now, he’d stolen her completely.
That night, Oscar convinced himself that Tommy was trying to take everything from him, his company, his daughter, even his legacy. Tommy had always been jealous that Oscar had run Sloane Technologies for seven years and improved on the systems Henry started. And now, he’d poisoned Evie against him, convincing her to abandon law and chase computers instead, just like him.
He emptied the bag of cocaine onto the table, spreading the powder into even lines with his credit card. The ritual steadied his trembling hands. He rolled a fifty, bent over, andinhaled hard. Fire burned through his nose, and the rush hit his brain like a gunshot.
His thoughts spun back to the quarterly board meeting in early September. Tommy had stood at the head of the table, pitching another hare-brained idea, and the board had eaten it up. They’d smiled and nodded, hanging on his every word as if Henry himself had come back from the dead. When Oscar finally spoke up, pointing out, reasonably, that the plan was unrealistic, the room went silent. Every eye in the room turned on him.
“What part of it is ridiculous and wouldn’t work?” Tommy’s tone was calm but resigned, and Oscar felt a flicker of triumph, thinking he had won.
““All of it. None of what you said makes sense.” In truth, Oscar couldn’t really remember everything Tommy had been describing; it had been a lot of techno mumbo jumbo he hadn’t understood.
“No,” Tommy pressed, voice still measured. “Be specific. Which parts, exactly, won’t work?”
Oscar narrowed his eyes, not liking that he was being challenged by a man half his age. “It’ll fail and lose us money,” he said smoothly, forcing confidence he didn’t feel.
Tommy leaned forward, palms braced on the table. “The prototype costs less than half of the current model, and beta testing shows it’ll double our returns.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I think we should meet tomorrow morning to discuss a few things, Oscar.”
“Why can’t we discuss them now?” Oscar folded his arms; certain he’d caught him off guard. “Afraid to say it in front of everyone?”
Tommy exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment before looking back down. His eyes were steady,unreadable. And for the first time, Oscar felt something cold crawl down his spine.
Tommy glanced at Rupert Holmes, the board president, who gave a slight nod before looking back at Oscar. “Okay,” Tommy said quietly. “You want to have this conversation in front of everyone? Fine. We’ll do it here.”
He pulled his chair in and folded his hands on the table. “The board and I have discussed it, and we’ve decided it’s time for you to retire.”
For a moment, Oscar thought he’d misheard him. The room went still. A low hum filled his ears, and his vision tunneled. He looked around the table, a few board members avoided his gaze, but most stared back with unreadable faces.
“I’m not retiring,” he said finally, a sharp laugh escaping him. “Don’t be ridiculous. This company needs me.”
“That’s just it, Oscar, it doesn’t.” Tommy’s tone stayed calm, but there was an edge of finality in it. “To be frank, you’re holding it back. As of January first, you’ll no longer be Chief Operating Officer of Sloane Technologies. We’re offering a generous retirement package, continued health benefits, a monthly pension, the works.”
