Subscribe“Chestari.” Biltmore spoke from above, raised high upon an old fashioned wooden desk. It was a large mahogany desk, which, unlike its occupant, was sturdy in build, and correspondingly their differences served him well,hermit crabs do the same thing. His glance rested petulantly on the opposite side of that desk where stood another man who, again unlike Biltmore, was stout and much more forbearing. Biltmore leaned back in his chair with and narrowed his eyes. “So we meet again.”
“It was inevitable.” Antonio shifted his weight from one leg to another in a rhythmic timing. “We are plagued with each other’s existence yet one needs the other to survive is that not correct?
The woodworm forced a smile that resulted in a horrible contortion of his face forcing his nose to wrinkle and his teeth to bare. His eyes narrowed steadily slowly forming slits of concentrated hate.
“Biltmore, you must know I get no pleasure from this.” Antonio continued. “One might even venture to say I despise you. But I am, as of now, in no position to question my superiors. After all, I am not worthy of judging you at your hardwood desk making decisions for the voiceless.”
Biltmore tightened his jaw. A reluctant sigh filtered through the spaces in his uneven front teeth. “There is no work for you here Mr. Chestari.”
Antonio felt his insides turning at the sight of this man Biltmore, his rival since grade school. What a serpent he was; thin and soulless, poised for attack even now which his poisoned tongue. He stared intently at Antonio, no blink interrupting his cold gaze. “You may leave the building Chestari,” He muttered coolly, and then jerked his head towards the door. “You are dismissed.”
“For now I will leave.” Antonio made no point of hiding his intent of return from Biltmore, still, he made no movement to leave the premises even as much as a millimeter. “But I must say now, just as I have before: it is inevitable that we should meet again. Perhaps the day will come when you shall grovel on the opposite end of this false wooden box.”
Biltmore’s head cocked to a tilt, his eyebrows levitated tediously. “Must I call security?”
“If it would make you feel better, Mr. Biltmore,” Antonio stepped a pace back motioning politely with his arm, “By all means.”
“I have no work for you.” Biltmore reiterated. Through clenched teeth he breathed, “None.”
Antonio neither replied nor moved. He just countered Biltmore’s hideous glare with an intent one hoping to break the scheming façade of his enemy.
“Here we only hire the best.” Biltmore digressed after a pause. “We have no positions open for pathetic beggars and under-achievers as of yet. I will post you promptly when one opens.”
Antonio moved a step forward and clenched his fists tightly behind his back. “You seem well versed in slander Mr. Biltmore, but I will have you know that this talk will never benefit you for it only strengthens my resolve.”
“Ha.” Biltmore bleated a mirthless laugh. “I pity you. I do. If I didn’t know better I would say you were threatening me. But that couldn’t be the case. No. You have bigger concerns.” Biltmore proceeded to chuckle if chuckling that awful sound could be called. “Oh no, Mr. Chestari is far too busy planning the deaths of his in-laws to harass an old school rival is that not so?”
It took all of Antonio’s his will power to keep grounded and not hurl himself at the hateful man that sat above him. His mind flashed back three years prior to that night, the night when he watched his world collapse before his awe-stuck eyes. It was November fourteenth, 1947, when a squad of police flooded his house, accusing him of murder. He remembered the cold handcuffs, and brutal words….but most of all he would never forget the body. It was the mutilated body of his sister-in-law Daphne Evanderakis, and the crowds of people who gathered about all looked upon him with contempt in their eyes. He had looked about frantically hoping or a face that believed in his innocence, but the only one who showed trust through her tears was his faithful wife Beatrice…but there was nothing she could do. Indeed, Daphne had been a victim of murder, as her body was recovered brutally assaulted from the old marsh on the far North side of the property, but it was not by the hand everyone suspected. For two weeks Romaine was confined to metal bars until sound evidence cleared his name: The night the body was recovered from the marsh Antonio had been working late with his co-worker and brother-in-law Stephen Evanderakis the Evanderakis-Chestari law firm. Someone had planted Antonio’s coat and business card in the bracken surrounding the marsh…someone who felt threatened by the Chestari-Evanderakis law and order.
“The way you look at me Mr. Chestari one would think you suspected me of that crime.” Biltmore contorted his face into another would-be smile. “You know, they never had a hard time attaining your coat and card. The coat-closet at your old office was never locked. I hope you’re more careful with you possessions now. Someone had to teach you that lesson.”
Romaine could contain himself no longer. He stormed out of the building blinded by rage and lamenting the seemingly unfair way the world treated him. Yes, Biltmore won that battle, if ending on that note was just enough to called winning. All these years his suspicions had not been not in vain. Daphne had been the victim of the Biltmore malice. But now time had passed and no one would believe him even if he could prove it. No, he had to find another way to bring the serpent down from his wooden thrown. He was sure Biltmore had would stop at one murder to protect the welfare of his company. Doubtless, there were other ways which the conniving snake was cheating humanity.
Ever since his time in prison Antonio had never regained the prestige he once had. The people he once knew to be colleagues and friends turned him and his family the cold shoulder. Even though his business partner knew he was innocent, Steven never fully trusted his brother-in law after that faithless night and soon Antonio found himself unemployed, searching for odd jobs about the city. It was when his family was in dire needs that he gave up some of his pride and applied for a job at the electric plant that had so suddenly sprung up in Risorgimento, a little town just north of the city of Rome. It was Biltmore Electronics and the name rung with foreign sound in many Italian ears. Biltmore was of English origin and intended to renew the reign of the United Kingdom once he and his scientists discovered a means of generating nuclear fusion. He was sure of it. Biltmore Electronics Company now served nearly half the sovereign state of Italy on coal power alone. With the discovery of nuclear fusion Biltmore planned to go worldwide.
“You are not welcome here.” Biltmore sneered into the empty space before his desk after Antonio raged out the door.
Antonio left the Biltmore Headquarters that day vowing to see the fall of Biltmore and his dream if he himself had to sacrifice his life in doing so. He knew he was not welcome at the plant, he never had been. However, as long as Biltmore drew breath behind those doors they would remain open. They must. That space would still remain. Antonio was going nowhere. The war had just begun.
From the sooty street lamps a dull light escaped, reflecting off of the pavement in the shallow puddles that filled cracks and pot holes in the street. Antonio Chestari could feel water seeping through holes in is battered boots. He struggled against the cold night wind, his empty lunch pail clicking jerkily to and fro. His eyes were blurred by the fog, as street lamps melded into amorphous shapes of yellow against the murky black skies of Rome. He pulled his threadbare coat tightly around him as he trudged onward. Determination pulled his feet forward. It was determination that kept him going. He believed in the rewards of human sacrifice and found confidence therein; the sacrifices of an everyday man. To lie down would be to admit defeat. To admit defeat would be to flee from the enemy and live in his shadow. Now it became apparent that Biltmore, however fragile, had the upper hand and was slithering down the path to ultimate success whether or not it meant he was tainted by corruption. Antonio now made a choice to follow Biltmore down this path in hopes of overtaking him. It would be harder for him now. He had a family: a wife and two sons.
When he reached the threshold of his small home, Antonio was drenched and his feet soaked in filthy drain water from the streets.
His wife Beatrice looked up at him tensely as he stepped onto the damp doormat. Her eyes sparkled with so much hope. His glance then fell upon his sons Arizon and Milo. Arizon was fast asleep on the ragged sofa, his head resting on Milo’s shoulder. At first glance Milo looked asleep as well, his head tilted to the side but his eyes open just a slit, barely concealing his consciousness.
“Bea,” Antonio forced a smile, “always remembers this. Life is war. There are battles. You fight…you win sometimes. Sometimes you must loose. But the war is not over until one admits defeat. It does not end until one ends it. Don’t you see Bea? Some try to bring mine to an end…but how does one snuff a flame that has never yet been lit?”
“So no work at the plant.” Beatrice’s face went pale in the dim lamplight, her lips trembled. The air filled with a sudden stillness. Milo shut his eyelids this time tighter, more forceful than the soft poise of sleep.
“I never meant to work there.” Antonio replied quickly seeing the disappointment on his wife’s face. “I only wanted him to see that I was not going anywhere. I wanted to show him that I was not afraid.” He avoided his wife’s stare now, feeling as if letting their eyes meet would be too painful. The deep pools that where her eyes could easily drown him if he let them. He removed his damp coat slowly and hung it on a hook against the wall, his head bent towards the floor.
“Tony, don’t be unreasonable. I tell you each time to stay away from that Biltmore man. He lives to bring you down. He wants to see your destruction, and each day you let him see it. You play his game.”
“He wants to see to my ruin for a reason you know Bea. He is afraid. He seeks my destruction because he is afraid of what I am capable of. I am bent with determination and determination is his toxin.”
“You must move on.” Beatrice said sternly. “To that toxin he has become immune.”
“Bea,” Antonio moved closer to his wife and learned forward to get a better look at her face, “Bea, in the thirty-eight years I have walked this earth my very footsteps bleed with willpower; with determination. He has seen that and knows that if ever I get to a place where I can cut him down I will. He wants all who work under him to hold a certain fear of him and his empire. I do not work for him, nor am I afraid.”
“I never questioned your willpower. In that we have do not lack. But I must remind you that I can cook neither will nor words for dinner.”
Romaine was silenced for some time, clenching his fists and pacing the length of the small living room. “He wants to keep me from law for some reason. He stopped me three years ago with by…by hurting my family. Bea I was right about my suspicions of him and the murder----”
“Shhhhhhhh! Beatrice put a finger to his lips and nodded towards the sleeping boys. “Such nonsense! I thought we agreed never to speak of that night!”
Antonio glanced at the boys quickly then continued. “There is something unlawful regarding his business, I am sure. No company spreads so fast. Like a disease it is taking Italy overnight. There is a way to stop it I know, and I must find it.”
“No Tony.” Beatrice said firmly, her voice rising this time above the soft tone she spoke in before. “No. Then we must move on. We cannot stay here much longer. You are becoming obsessed with this man and his antics. If there is any truth in your suspicions then we must go away. Let him live in peace and he will let you.”
“We will stay as we please.” Antonio shot back, interrupting one of his paces across the room to lean over Milo who screwed his eyed even tighter feeling his father’s proximity. Antonio knelt near the sleeping place of his sons and kissed Milo on the forehead. “You say you do not want me to play his game. Bea, moving would be playing right into his cold hands. Yes, am playing a game, but it is not his, it is mine.”
“Tony you are too ignorant. You are too proud.” Beatrice scolded him as if he were a child. “We cannot stay here. We cannot live here any longer. You know this as much as I. Do not let your pride blind you now, when you so dearly need your sight.”
“We will not move.”
“What about the children?” Her voice raised now, more in distress than anger. “And the baby?” she caressed her pregnant stomach.
“You think too little of me.” Antonio replied slowly shaking his head. He rose back to full height now, taking his eyes off the other object he had engaged them with prior to look directly into his wife’s eyes. “If you think I will stand here, blinded with pride, and let out family fall…then you think too little of me.”
To be continued in Ch. 2 next week...
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