LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER ONE

      ALEJANDRO AGUILAR STEPPED out of a bracing, ice-cold shower to the sound of a ringing phone. At 4:00 a.m. such an occurrence would have alarmed most people. He already had a fair idea of why his early-morning routine was being disturbed.

      Crossing the master bedroom suite of his Chicago penthouse, he draped the towel round his neck and picked up the phone.

      ‘Is it done?’

      A muted sigh from his chief strategist, Wendell Grant, greeted him. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but they wouldn’t be swayed. We’ve thrown everything at them, including my firstborn son.’

      The attempt at humour fell flat, causing the weary-sounding man to clear his throat uncomfortably.

      Alejandro’s grip tightened on the handset, the inkling he’d harboured for several weeks expanding to nape-tingling certainty. There were far too many indicators to ignore the suspicion any longer.

      ‘Frankly, I’m at a loss as to why they’ve suddenly become so intransigent,’ Wendell continued. ‘The Ishikawa brothers’ team refuses to even discuss what the problem is beyond stating that they need more time.’

      Alejandro knew what the problem was. The heads of the Japanese e-commerce conglomerate were protracting the deal, which should’ve been finalised a month ago, in order to accommodate a third party’s interest.

      ‘How did you leave things?’ he asked.

      ‘They’ve asked for a few more days. We tried to get an earlier date but they wouldn’t budge. We’ve agreed to a videoconference on Friday.’

      ‘That’s unacceptable. I’m not waiting another five days. Call them back. Tell them I want the Ishikawa brothers in conference tomorrow.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      About to hang up, Alejandro sensed his executive’s reticence. ‘Is there something else?’

      ‘Well...I got the feeling they think they have the upper hand. The dynamic has definitely shifted...’

      Hearing his suspicions voiced by another brought a clench of anger to Alejandro’s gut. If his executives had sniffed out the same issue, it was time to take over the helm again.

      ‘Sir? Is there something we should know?’

      Alejandro squashed his ire. ‘I’ll take it from here. Extend my gratitude to the team and tell everyone to take the day off. You’ve earned it.’

      ‘You still want me to make the call?’ Wendell asked.

      ‘No. I’ll take care of it.’ Now that he knew with whom he was dealing, it was time the gloves came off.

      ‘If you’re sure, then I better get home to my wife before she serves me with divorce papers.’ Another weary laugh, which fizzled away, the other man sensing Alejandro’s tense mood. ‘Oh, one last thing. I had my assistant compile the shortlist of PR firms for you. Jameson PR has the most extensive experience in Asia. I think at this stage we need all the help we can get.’

      Alejandro finished the call and hung up. Snatching the towel from around his neck, he dropped it and padded naked to his dressing room. His signature grey suits, black shirts and bespoke pinstripe ties were within easy reach. Selecting a charcoal suit, he dressed with military efficiency, and was heading out of the door fifteen minutes later.

      The drive to the Loop, the financial heart of Chicago, took less than ten minutes. The early hour meant very little traffic and Alejandro gained marginal satisfaction from letting the engine of his Bugatti Veyron roar along the quiet streets.

      But nothing could ease the iron-hard fist of unwelcome knowledge trapped in his gut. Nor the accompanying rage that mounted with each passing second.

      He’d moved from Spain, the country of his birth, to California at the age of twenty-one, and then relocated to Chicago a year after that because he’d wanted nothing to do with his family. The move from Spain had been to remove himself as soon as it was legally possible from the volatile quagmire that was his parents’ sham of a marriage. Alejandro had put several thousand miles between himself and the two individuals biology had used to create him, and never looked back. Little did he know he’d been placing himself within touching distance of another powder keg in the form of his half-brother.

      Gael Aguilar.

      He was half of the equation that had worsened the acrimony in Alejandro’s life over two decades ago. Gael and his mother had put faces on the hitherto faceless monsters that were his father’s indiscretions. Those monsters had grown until Alejandro had had no choice but to leave the only home he’d known.

      But the nightmare hadn’t been ready to let him be.

      Gael had arrived in California shortly after him. And Silicon Valley hadn’t been large enough to contain the two of them. Especially when his younger half-brother had started making himself a nuisance by going after the same deals Alejandro showed interest in. Wiping out Gael’s burgeoning e-commerce start-up would’ve been an easy accomplishment for Alejandro. But that would’ve indicated he cared one iota about the life he’d put behind him. It would’ve given the impression that the countless instances of infidelity, rancour and falsehood that had peppered his childhood still had the power to matter.

      So he’d walked away.

      He might be an Aguilar, but he was so in name only. Nothing about it was worthy of being lauded. He’d cut all ties. As far as he was concerned, he existed in this world alone.

      Except his half-brother hadn’t got the memo. A decade after meeting for the second and final time, it appeared Gael was determined to insert himself into Alejandro’s business once again. Or at the very least, scurry away with the deal Alejandro had worked tirelessly to pull together.

      Turning off his engine, he launched himself from the car and crossed the underground car park of his company’s building. Entering the lift that would take him to the top-floor offices of SNV International, he recalled that last exchange with his brother when Gael had found out he was leaving California.

      ‘I hear you’re relocating your business. Why? You scared I’m going to show you up?’ Gael’s white smile, cocksure, taunting and tinged with bravado, had reminded Alejandro too much of their father’s, eliciting nothing but cold indifference.

      ‘Don’t kid yourself. My company is successful enough to thrive anywhere in the world. But perhaps you should count your lucky stars that I’m leaving and removing myself from the temptation to crush you into the dirt. This way you at least have a hope of making something of yourself.’

      His brother’s smile had evaporated like mist in sunshine. A look Alejandro had ironically recognised in himself—one of implacable will and determination—had passed over Gael’s features.

      ‘I look forward to the day when I make you swallow those words, hermano.’

      Alejandro had shrugged and walked away. He hadn’t bothered to tell Gael they would never be true brothers because they’d never meet again. Crossing paths once when they were teenagers had been bad enough. A second time,

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