Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Heat, Stress, Burns, and Cuts Ch.  01
Summary: A monumental conspiracy brings a Paris chef into a new world.
Keywords: inc,fic
   Heat, stress, burns, and cuts.  Does that sound like a good or bad night
to you?  To me, it sounds perfect.  Working as sous chef means that you're
second in command, just under the head chef.  I watch over the line cooks
and make sure that they are cooking as well as I know they can.  In order
to understand how I got into this position, we need to go back to what
brought me here in the first place...
   Boston, Massachusetts.  2012.
   As a kid, Paris always intrigued me.  It seemed like a place so full of
culture and luxury that it instantly appealed to me.  I am a romantic at
heart maybe that is why I got into cooking from a young age.  Turn on some
music, nobody but me in the kitchen, free to season and cook what I want.
Cooking is a selfish and selfless art.  I know that sounds contradicting
but allow me to explain; it is selfish because when you are cooking, you
are seasoning and cooking things how you like to cook them.  But it is
selfless because all of the work you put into that dish puts big smiles on
those who eat them.  I love to cook for anybody who will eat it; notable
people to cook for are lovers.  You wouldn't believe how seductive a good
bottle of wine and a sweet dessert can be!
   My parents were practically non-existent in my childhood and I never
really got along with them, one night my father and I got into a very
heated argument.  My father, Frank, is an extremely headstrong douchebag,
he is also a 'my way or the highway' type of person.  You see, he wanted me
to follow in his footsteps and run the business his father and father
before him had ran.  I didn't want to pursue that route, my passions and
desires were different.  But Frank was persisting on having it his way.
   "I want you to run this business Danny!  Don't break this tradition; you
would be disrespecting all of the men through our generations!  Do you want
to do that?" My father roared.
   "How dare you!  You claim I need to believe in dogmatic principles that
have been passed down for generations?  Can't I make decisions on my own?
Jesus Christ!  I am going to live my life the way I want, not the way you
or anybody else wants!" I replied bitterly.
   "NO, you're 18-fucking years old Danny, I'm your father and you live
under my roof.  If you want to live here then you will allow me to groom
you as my successor!  If you don't want to do that, then you can leave."
   By the end of that night I had a bag packed and a one way ticket to
Paris, just me and my knifes.  My father let me go and convinced my mother
to not say anything because he believed that I would come back that night.
That didn't happen.
   After that night everything changed, I soon learned the cruel world I
was entering in to.  The first night in Paris was purely fear.  The first
week was all self-doubt.  The first month was chalk full language barriers.
However, in hindsight the first year was the greatest and most free years
of my life.  The fact that I didn't know where I was going and had the
constant stress to preform was like a drug, that hunger that comes from
deep down, that kick of adrenaline, the fight or flight instinct, when you
realize that if you fuck this dish up then you will be on the street and
begging for work again.  This is a kind of hunger that very few will ever
experience.  In the beginning I didn't speak French; I conned my way into a
kitchen and started building my way up the chain.  As the years passed the
confidence grew, more and more.  The cooks beside me became my best
friends, they taught me French, helped improve my cooking, and hooked me up
with some very sexy women.  After all I was the 'American', who would have
thought that the French go batshit over American accents?  I certainly
found out quickly.
   Paris, France.  2016.
   "Jordan, how are we on the Risotto?" I barked.
   "5 minutes, Chef!" He replied distracted with the perfection in his
saucepan.
   "Make sure you don't put too much salt, yeah?"
   "Yes, Chef!" He chanted.
   "Michelle!  Don't burn that fucking salmon again, understood?" I
shouted.
   "Yes, Chef!" Michelle barked.
   I love that phrase "Yes, Chef." It shows respect that can only be gained
by hard work and experience in the industry.  When you're a line cook you
don't have any respect from the Executive Chef or the Sous Chef.  It's a
great accomplishment to be called chef by people in your kitchen.  Normal
people address anyone who works in a kitchen as a chef, but in the industry
it is taken more seriously.  After bumming around at a few different
restaurants, I was taken under the wing of a world renowned French chef,
Aldrich Yates.  Aldrich was a mentor to me over the years; I learned a vast
amount of wisdom from him.  It was never easy; I worked 16 hours a day. 
Aldrich started me washing dishes, I cooked on the line and prepped for
years, while Aldrich and I cooked for hours afterward, and working on new
and innovative dishes and recipes, jovial and boyish laughter constantly
erupted throughout our time together.  Soon he became a great friend, I was
his best man and soon after he promoted me to Sous Chef, to work as his
right hand.  Work was great every night, I trained new cooks, I plated
Aldrich's food, and helped him formulate the menu.  One day Aldrich
approached me and I instantly knew something was off.
   "You okay?" I asked concerned.
   "Danny, I have some bad news." Aldrich said one day.
   "Are you okay?" I asked concerned.
   "Yes, I'm not sick or anything if that's what you mean," he replied "No.
Danny, I'm not getting any younger, 65 and still in the kitchen...  I just
can't do it!"
   "Ok, would you like my help to find a replacement chef?" I asked.
   "I would like you to replace me Danny." Aldrich said.  The panic starts
to set in.  Could I even be an executive chef?  An executive chef needs to
make a menu, buy the material for aforementioned menu, interact with the
Maitre'd, talk and budget with the owner.  Could I handle all of that?
   "I can see the gears in your head Danny, don't doubt yourself, you can
do this!" Aldrich said happiness in his eyes, encouragement in his voice.
   "Who will be my replacement?" I questioned.  Sous chef is like the whip
in the kitchen, it is a necessary position.
   "Well that would be your choice, if you would like my opinion...  I
would say Jordan.  It seems as though you have taken him under you're
wing..." He replied.
   I like Jordan and I think he has the ability to be a Sous.  He had a
similar upbringing to my own, his parents were distant, he was always stuck
making dinner for his younger siblings.  But like most of us in the
industry, it became fun and not a burden.  This is what happened to me when
I had to cook for my younger sister, Samantha.  Since I had left Boston she
was the only person I still talked to.  She and I talk every week, we have
a decent relationship but with the time difference and my hours it makes
for difficulty in lining up schedules.
   "Jordan seems like a good choice for Sous.  But Chef, are you sure that
I am worthy o-" I was interrupted by Aldrich.
   "You stop that right now.  You are the closest thing I have ever had to
a son.  Not to mention that you are the most gifted chef to pass through my
kitchen.  Your palate is impeccable; best I've ever seen, only rivaled by
my own.  You have an eye for plating and a nose for seasoning.  You're
amazing with the cooks!  Danny, you were made for this job." He said, his
and my tears starting to flow.  I brought him in for a hug; he seemed in
desperate need of one, I know I was.  Honestly, Aldrich is the closest
thing to a father that I have had.  He was the one to bail me out when I
had money problems.  He was the one who distracted me when I had a bad
breakup.  He was the one who was there for me, that's what a father does.
   We called it a night round 3:00 I went home to my apartment.  If there
is one thing Paris can teach you, it is that cash is king.  I learned from
a young age that I have an eye for luxury, however my wallet doesn't!  On a
Sous Chef's salary, living in Paris can be complicated; however, I found a
wonderful deal on an apartment owned by an old woman, Norma, who lived next
door.  She seemed to take a liking to me, which, according to local gossip
is rare, to say she's an introvert is putting it lightly.  My apartment is
a 2 bedroom overlooking the River Seine, and a partial view of the Eiffel
tower.  My life is perfect right now, I get to wake up to a lovely view,
then I get to go cook food with a dear friend, and when I come home, Megan
is waiting.  She is my current girlfriend, she helped me get into Aldrich's
kitchen, and Megan works as Maitre'd at L'Ambroisiea, a three Michelin star
restaurant, conveniently, the same place I work!  We have snuck off a few
times to say the least.  Aldrich never got mad though.  He was always
amused.
   "Hey Danny!  Where the fuck were you!" Aldrich said his voice full of
anger, but barely at conversation level.  I never understood how he could
put so much authority into such a quiet whisper...
   "I'm sorr-" I said, but was quickly interrupted by Aldrich.
   "Don't apologize to me.  Apologize to Megan; I can see the cum-stain on
her blouse from all the way over here!" He broke out in a large and
uncontrollable guffaw.  Megan seemed to always laugh it off, it usually
helped that she had been fucked ferociously moments before.
   To my unexpected and unwanted surprise, Megan was asleep when I arrived
home.  I am by nature, a night owl, which is great because it was 3:30 by
the time I got home and I wanted to stay awake for a little while longer.
We didn't need to be up until around 1:00pm anyway so I figured some alone
time would do me good.  Because of Norma and her kindness she allowed me to
soundproof the second bedroom in the apartment so I could move my piano in.
It feels really good to not have the police called on you for 6 months in a
row.  So I went and sat down at my Grand Piano, and began to play.  Once
you get into it, nothing else exists; it's just you, the piano, and the
music.  I couldn't tell you how long I was there for.  Actually I can, when
I went into the kitchen the sun had already rose and it was about 7:00.  I
knew that Megan would be up soon, I figured fuck it, another all-nighter?
Why not, I might as well cook her something.  Fastest way to a women's
heart, or in my case, women's pants is to cook her something.  Not gonna
lie, I went slightly apeshit, homemade French toast, Eggs Benedict, Sausage
and Bacon.
   Just as I was finished pressing the coffee, I heard shifting in bed, and
then the door opened.  There stood the French bombshell.  Her wavy, blonde
hair cascaded down and pooled at her shoulders.  She stood at a lovely
5'8", with an ass to die for, lips like a Kardashian, and an intellect akin
to a noble prize winner.  Lastly, and my favorite thing about her is her
astonishing Grey eyes, they seem so deep that you could look directly into
her soul.  We were what our friends and her family call 'old souls' and at
25 years old, Megan was wise beyond her years.  She wore an over-sized
white shirt that extended beyond her waist, but leaving just enough open to
see her pink panties.
   "Hey babe" I said holding up a coffee cup for her.
   "Ooohh," She cooed overlooking the breakfast in front of her "what did I
do to get this?"
   "I was up, so I went nuts." I said as I closed the distance between us
and then whispered into her ear "Okay, I lied.  I actually made this in
hopes of present from you..." I moved in and kissed her neck and went back
to her ear "...of the sexual variety."
   Man, did that get her going.  Her kiss was fierce and burning with
desire.  But do I love to tease her, so I picked her up.  I started to
carry her to the couch, then did a 180 and sat her back down at the
breakfast bar.
   "We can pick this up later, eat while it's hot, you'll need you're
strength, trust me." I said as I went and sat down on the couch, chuckling
to myself.  I proceeded to drink my coffee.  I heard a fork moving around,
she ate fast, eager to finish what I started.  You could cut the sexual
tension with a knife.  Suddenly I heard her dump her plate into the sink, I
cook her this food and she doesn't eat any of it?  Women, am I right?  I
can't complain I did get her going anyway.
   "Well thanks; I could really see how much you liked the food, too much
garlic?  That's what I am tast-" I was interrupted by her jumping onto my
lap and her tongue invading my mouth.
   This time, her kiss was slow and sensual, almost as if she was trying to
get revenge.  Well two can play this game, I reached my hand into her
little pink panties and started teasing her little slit, making sure not to
get my finger anywhere near her clit.  I felt the moans deepening in my
mouth.  She soon reached her hands into my pants and started playing with
my cock.  First slowly stroking the shaft, and then moving to my balls, and
back to my shaft.  I decided to cut through this back and forth teasing and
just get to business.
   I picked her up, her legs clamping to my waist in an oh so decadent way,
I carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed.  I am of
European decent, call me a mutt, as I come from many different countries. I
am fairly muscular, weighing in at about 260lbs, standing at 6'4" and I
have been told that I have piercing deep blue eyes.
   "Don't you move a muscle." I said as I took her shirt off and started to
kiss my way down her body, starting at the neck and continuing to the
nipples, I spent some time circling my tongue around her nipples, I then
sucked on them.  After a few minutes I proceeded down to her pretty cunt.
Instead of going in for the kill I kissed along the sides of her lips, down
her inner thighs, and back up.  Then, I went in for the kill; I buried two
fingers into her cunt and got my mouth on her clit.  This got the exact
response I wanted.
   "UNNNNNNNNNNN, Yeah, fuck me baby!" Megan screamed as her ass left the
bed and her moans became more vocal.
   "Yeah baby, that's it, just give in..." I said as I bent my finger up,
hitting her G-Spot.
   "MMMMMMM, you're hitting that so good Danny" She moaned, her climax
approaching quickly.
   "Come on Megan, cum for me!" I hissed, quickening my efforts.
   A mind blowing orgasm hit her like a freight train, most likely could
have been registered on the Richter scale.  No rest for her, she was
getting multiples today, I pulled out my painfully hard cock, and lined it
up with her cunt.  In one, quick thrust, I filled her with my cock, this
resulted in her boarder lining on sensory overload.  I felt her pussy
spasming all around my cock, I let out an involuntary moan and it was her
turn to dirty talk me.
   "Yeah babe, you like my pussy don't you?  Taking all of your fat... 
long...  UNN...  hard cock in my tight...  MMMM...  pussy?" She asked
seductively.  I was so happy when I found out she liked to talk dirty.
   "That's right babe, you're pussy is so fir-tight..." I moaned, too
caught up in the sensations to know what I said, let alone care.
   "Yeah baby, you gonna cum soon?  Where do you want me to take it, in my
pussy?  On my face?  Or in my mouth?" She instantly knew what I wanted
because she felt my cock swell inside her when she mentioned her mouth. 
"Ooohh, you know I love to swallow, such a people pleaser you are, Danny."
I only lasted a few more minutes.  Megan dismounted my cock and got on her
knees.  She sucked and fucked me for all I was worth, I felt the pressure
start to build and Megan increase her speed, and then I sent a hot load of
cum towards back of her throat, plastering it like drywall.
   I sank onto the bed and Megan lay next to me, she snuggled into me and
we laid there for a while, eventually falling asleep only to wake up to the
phone ringing.
   "Hello?" I said in a half asleep state.
   "Why hello there, sleeping beauty, GET YOU'RE ASS UP!" An angry Aldrich
said "Make sure little miss tight-box is up too!  We got shit to do!" and
that concluded our phone call.
   "Babe, get up." I told Megan, shaking her in the process.
   "HUH!" She gasped "I'm up!"
   We got up and got ready to go into the kitchen for prep and menu
planning tonight.  We arrived about 2 hours late, my fault I guess; orgasms
drain you a good bit.  I wonder if a girlfriend ever complained to a
boyfriend about too intense orgasms.  If that ever happens, she should be
institutionalized.  We went over the specifics of dinner plans tonight, as
the prep cooks called it a day, the line cooks and washers began there
night.  We greeted them as they walked in and let them know about any menu
changes or anything like that.  The night started without a hitch.
   "One pork, one beef, two scallops, four risotto." Aldrich shouted.
   "Yes, Chef!" We all chanted back.
   As I looked along the line to make sure everyone was working effectively
and precisely.  Jordan was doing great, as per usual.  He will be excited
to find out about his promotion.  Jimmy on the other hand, not so good, I
think I will need to talk to Aldrich about getting rid of him.  As dinner
service started to wind down I felt my phone ring.  It is Samantha, it was
around 12:00 where she was, a bit late for her, she was an early riser gods
help her.
   "Hey sis, a bit late for you, no?" I said lightheartedly.
   "Da-Da-Dan-Danny" She was crying hysterically.  I immediately went into
big brother mode.
   "It's okay Samantha, calm down, breath," I said, while hearing the
crying start to subside.  "Now, what's wrong?"
   "It's-Its-Its Mom and Dad." She said starting into hysterics again just
at the mentioning of our parents.
   "What happened?  Are they okay?" I asked, already somewhat knowing the
answer.
   "NO!  They are dead!!  Their car went off the side of a cliff!" She
said. All the color drained from my face, how could this have happened.
   "Ok, Samantha, calm down.  Where are you right now?" I asked trying to
stay calm for her sake.
   "I'm at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston, I couldn't be at home!" She balled.
Wait, the Ritz-Carlton?  Where did she get that sort of money, I have
always wanted to stay at a Ritz before but the opportunity never presented
itself.  With the work I was doing I was far too busy to travel, which is
sad because I enjoy traveling immensely.
   "Okay, text me the specifics, I am on the next flight out of here!" I
told her.  She had agreed to stay in her room until I got there, which
would be about 10 hours, enough time for her to sleep or try and relax
herself.  What a fucking moron I am!  My sister is in a hotel room, alone,
and I am in Paris, what kind of disgraceful brother am I!  I informed
Aldrich of the circumstances and he had no problem with letting me go and
see her.  Megan insisted on going so I brought her along.  We packed a
duffle each and headed to the airport.  Got on to the flight with no
problem and I tried to catch up on some sleep while I could.
   Boston, Massachusetts.
   I awoke just as the plane was touching down.  I looked over to my right,
and there laid Megan, sleeping still.  I got up and got some OJ from the
flight attendants before waking her.  We shared our OJ waiting for the
plane to arrive at the gate.  It seemed as though it was taking longer than
usual depart from the plane, it was strange.  For the time being I and
Megan made small talk, she was trying to keep my mind off of my parents,
even though I know she is doing it, still cute nonetheless.  All of a
sudden somebody came onto the plane; he looked as though he was a
government agent.
   "Danny Vanderbuilt and Megan Gaulle" He barked, we raised our hands and
were quickly escorted off the plane.  To our immediate surprise, instead of
getting hours of interrogation, we were delighted when stepping off of the
plane to find a Rolls Royce here to pick us up, and as soon as we were off
the plane the government looking guy changed his attitude really quick.
   "Sorry for the roughness in there Mr.  Vanderbuilt, it was needed so we
didn't draw any attention.  Now let's get you to the Ritz-Carlton so you
can see your sister.  I am Edward, by the way sir." He replied very
formally, extending his hand.  "A bit odd you're not flying private, Sir."
He said nonchalantly
   "Uh, because not much money comes out of the chef trade, Edward." I
said, in a bit too bitter tone.  He quickly realized I took offense.
   "I'm very sorry I offended you, Sir, it won't happen again, I swear!" He
said, almost pleading.
   "No...  Quite alright Edward, don't fret." I reached out to shake his
hand "Don't we need to go through immigration's and customs?" I asked a bit
concerned.  He looked at me as if I had just swallowed a knife or
something. He quickly excused himself and made a phone call, I saw him nod
his head vigorously and apologize to the man on the other end of the phone
call.  When he came back his face was red and flushed, as if he was
drastically scared.  Things seemed strange, very strange, but I didn't care
so long as I got to Samantha as quickly as possible.  We got into the car
and headed into the city.
   It had been over 4 years since I have been in Boston.  Nothing really
changed, except for how I have been treated.  Bypassing Immigration's,
going off the plane on to the tarmac, being addressed with the utmost
respect, and not to mention the people surrounding me seem to fear me.  I
don't know why this is happening, as I recall, my family had no special
treatment, ever.  My father was traveling pretty much all the time, my
mother worked as well, albeit for charity though.  Our father made enough
money to comfortably support all of us without any of us working, he used
to throw it in our faces, I hated that, it was a major reason why I moved
so far away..
   We arrived at the Ritz in one piece, as I walked into the lobby I
noticed all of the staffs eyes on me as I arrived.  I was soon greeted by
the manager as I was walking in.
   "Hello Mr.  Vanderbuilt, Ms.  Gaulle." The manager kindly greeted us,
"Sir, your suite awaits you.  Please, follow me sir" The manager said,
grinning,
   "But I haven't paid..." I said, feeling that weird feeling again.
   "It has already been paid for sir," He addressed me calmly "Please, your
sister awaits you."
   That's all he needed to say and I was already headed towards the
elevator.  I made a mental note to ask my sister about her treatment here
and everywhere lately.  This couldn't all be good luck.  We rode the
elevator in silence, Megan clutching my arm a bit harder than usual; she
too is suspicious of what is going on.  I'm very empathetic; this is both a
blessing and a curse.  I can easily tell when someone is lying, scared,
nervous, or umpteen different things.  Funny enough, some refer to it as a
superpower, Megan included.  For example; Edward, back at the airport was
extremely nervous, like fear for life nervous.  However the hotel manager
felt more scared then nervous.  It's a small difference, but noticeable. 
This can also be a curse because of my own sensitivity.  I can be extremely
emotional, fragile, and cry easily.  The good news is over the years of
dealing with this I have built a strong carapace to keep my emotions inside
until it is safe to let them out, this works well for things at work or in
the business world as a whole.  It can be an absolute pain at some times,
and a true god send at others.
   Once we arrived at the Suite, we looked around and got acquainted to the
room while the manager went to get Samantha.  The suite was huge; it was
three bedrooms, 3 baths, with a full view over Boston common and a skyline
of Cambridge to match.  This hotel was everything I dreamed of, marble
bathrooms, a big shower (A.K.A fun with Megan), a huge king bed (A.K.A fun
with Megan), Many couches (You get where I am going with this.), in its own
soundproof room sat a grand piano, a huge terrace equipped with grill and
furniture, and then I saw it, A chef grade kitchen sitting in the back of
the room.  I am in heaven.  The only thing I would need to call this place
home is Aldrich and Norma living in Boston, I might need to consider a move
back to Boston...
   I heard the door open and before I could turn around there was Samantha,
hugging me as tight as possible.  Man, she filled out nice, 21 years old,
around 5'6"from my estimation.  Smallish tits, but a nice round ass.  Her
wavy auburn hair went down to her shoulder blades and rivaled many
supermodels.  Last but not least, her eyes, they were beautiful; green,
like shimmering emeralds.  Yeah, I know, she is my sister, but last time I
checked my dick didn't care about family relation.
   Something seemed off about her eyes, her pupils were pinpoint and the
sun was shining into the room.  I know from my little medical knowledge (I
took an interest to medicine because of the show House M.D.) that she had
to be doing drugs...  Now to figure out which one she was on.  Her
constricted pupils limited it down to Opiates, Benzodiazepines, and
barbiturates.  While I was hugging her I noticed she had some loss in
muscle tension and shallow breathing.  I figured with the access she had
money to that she was taking Morphine.  I think that she was really
overwhelmed after the deaths in the family, and because she had no one else
to comfort her she resorted to medicine to numb her.  I decided the best
course of action was to just confront her now and nip this possible
addiction in the bud.
   "So...  Morphine?" I asked.  The answer was evident by her expression.
He face went from smiling directly to ashamed and astonished.
   "...  How?" She asked, in a regretful tone.
   "You're pupils at first, then the lack of muscle tension and shallow
breathing." I replied, seeing Megan sitting on the coach in astonishment,
she didn't know a lot of what I read.  I tend to only sleep around six
hours each night so I've got some extra time to read.  Knowledge is power
and I like to know a lot about a lot of things.
   "I'm sorry!" She burst out crying "I didn't know what to do, I had no
one!"
   I didn't blame her for doing the drugs, I just want her to not do them
anymore, addiction is a terrible thing, and many addicts came through the
kitchens where I worked over the years.
   "Do you have anymore?" I asked, as calmly as I could.
   "No, I only got a few pills from a friend of an acquaintance."
   "If you're lying to me I swear to god..."
   "I'm not!  I promise!" She insisted.
   "Okay.  You better not buy any more of them or I will put you in rehab."
   She assured me she wouldn't take anymore drugs.  After that debacle was
taken care of I brought her into a guest room to have her sleep until the
Morphine was out of her system.  Megan and I decided to go out and look
around the city, Megan had never been to the U.S.  so it would be a great
honor to show her around.
   Boston hadn't changed, the feeling of the city, the rush of the
financial district and the leisure of Boston Common were the same.  Stores
had moved, or gone out of business, buildings were built and destroyed, but
the city still remained.  That is the cool thing about cities, the
immortality they seem to possess, and the opportunity they inspire.
   Megan and I walked around the city for a while, mostly in silence.  If
you were there, you could practically see Megan taking in the city, at that
moment, I know she yearned to see more places and discover more cities, I
felt terrible that I couldn't afford to take her around the world; this is
one of the times where being a chef is bad.  We eventually stopped into a
restaurant to get some food, Ivan's Tavern.  To my surprise, the place was
also a cigar bar.  So I ordered a cigar and a whisky as me and Megan
started to chat more.
   "So what do you think of the city?" I said, sparking a match, toasting
my cigar.
   "I love it Danny!  Why didn't we come her sooner?" She spoke with
excitement in her voice.
   "Truly, it was because of my parents, I didn't want to see them.  Money
too, Aldrich is like a father to me, but he pays me like a...  like a
chef..." I replied.
   "That's the job, babe." She said, smiling.  "You'll get an increase in
pay when you take over for Aldrich."
   "Speaking of Aldrich, do you think he would like working in Boston?  I
asked.
   "I don't know, he loves Paris, I doubt he would leave."
   "Would you?  Leave, that is."
   "I love Paris, but I love you more.  Danny Vanderbuilt, wherever you go,
I go." Damn, I really need to propose to that girl, she really is my soul
mate.  I looked at my watch and realized that Samantha had to be up by now.
I went up to the bar to pay but the bartender put his hand up.
   "Mr.  Vanderbuilt, your tab is covered, we actually got you a bottle of
1964 Bowmore Whisky and a box of Stradivarius cigars for you." I was
dumbfounded, that fucking whisky is worth AT LEAST $10,000!  What and the
fuck is going on!  I need to get to the bottom of this, preferably with a
glass of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other!  At this point in my
return to Boston, I am no longer questioning the gifts, I will just take
them and say thank you.  Megan asked what just happened and upon
enlightening her, she was just as surprised as I.
   We made it back to the hotel to find Samantha up, and moping around our
room.  I officially introduced her to Megan; she was too spaced out to
remember what happened before.  After I finished telling her what happened,
she was in tear and hugging both of us, apologizing profusely.  I told her
over and over not to worry about it.  I figured that it would do us all
some good to get a drink to take the edge off.  I couldn't open the
Bowmore, just couldn't.  So I called the concierge to ask for some food.
   "Hello, this is Danny Vanderbuilt in room-" I was promptly interrupted,
as somewhat expected.
   "Yes, Mr.  Vanderbuilt sir, what can I help you with?" He asked.
   "Could I get some food and a bottle of whisky up here?" I asked,
assuming he could send up a menu or something for us.
   "Right away sir, it should be around thirty minute.  On the house, as
per usual." He said happily as he hung up.
   Hey, free food and booze, delivered to my free suite, not a bad trip so
far.  About fifteen minutes later, three servers came up with three carts
worth of food, most likely one of everything on the menu, and ANOTHER
fucking bottle of Bowmore whisky!  What a good night I'll be having.  I
decided I would talk to the manager in the morning and see if I could get
some answers.  For the time being I cracked into the whisky and dug into
the food.  The conversations from the girls went everywhere for hysterical
laughing to weeping, I thought it would be a good time to mention the free
stuff to my sister.
   "Hey Sam, since you arrived at the hotel, have you gotten any special
treatment?" I asked her.
   "Yes!  Everybody insists on giving me things for free!  I got a $2000
purse for free today while you guys were out." She replied.
   So my suspicion is true!  Why is everybody giving us special treatment,
is it just because of our parent's death, or is it something bigger? 
Everywhere from Ivan's Tavern, to Louis Vuitton, to the Ritz Carlton gave
us stuff for free, this isn't just kindness.  I hope that I will find out
more when I talk to the manager tomorrow.  But I doubt that I actually will
get anything useful out of him.  This whole thing hit me like a freight
train, all of these old emotions about my father started to come up and I
felt like I was drowning in guilt for not being here, and not giving him
what he wanted.  My terrible reverie was soon interrupted by Samantha.
   "You okay?" She asked a hand on my shoulder.
   "Yeah, sis, I'm okay.  Just thinking about what would happen if I
wouldn't have left and did what dad wanted me to do..." I started to
descent into deep thought only to be stopped by Sam.
   "Well, I know two things," She started "First, they would still be dead
either way" she stopped to take a large swig of whisky "And two, you
wouldn't have Megan, she is so great that if you dump her, then I will take
her."
   "You'll take her?  Sam, is there something you're not telling me?" I
asked, hoping that she was lesbian; it would make my inevitable fantasizing
about 10x hotter.
   "Well..." She paused "I am actually bi-sexual."
   "Well it is good you give both genders a chance" I joked.
   "Oh yeah," she paused as her eyes roamed up and down my body "It would
be unfair otherwise" She openly flirted.
   Soon all of my deep thoughts about my father were now replaced of
fantasies about a threesome with Megan and Samantha.  We were all pretty
shitfaced and tired, but I was suffering of a massive Hard-on and it looked
like Megan could sense that, as she seemed ready to pounce on me any chance
she got.  Samantha had the same look; it looked like she and her hand were
going to have a fun time tonight.  We all decided to go to bed, much to my
dismay, Megan had passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
   I soon came to the conclusion that sleep would not be something that
occurred for me tonight as I have been staring at the ceiling for the last
20, mind-numbing minutes.  I decided to go light up a cigar and play the
piano for a while.  I was quickly stopped by the moans coming from
Samantha's room.  The door was open, almost invitingly, I walked over and
peered inside, it was a lovely sight to say the least.  My gaze was drawn
to the silk covered, queen bed, with Samantha's busty body occupying it. 
She laid spread eagle on the bed, two fingers deep in her pussy, the other
hand tweaking her nipples.  Suddenly, she stared up at me; this seemed to
turn her on even more.  I stepped inside the room, and took out my cock,
and began to stroke it.  Lovely thing about foreskin, no need for lube, its
convenient to say the least.  Samantha grabbed me by the dick and pulled me
towards her.  She took me into her mouth and sucked me for all I was worth.
Man, did she give good head, the way her tongue moved was purely addicting.
   "Oh Sam" I moaned "That's right; suck my dick you little whore." That
seemed to do it, her efforts doubled and she was getting close.
   "Are you gonna cum soon Danny?  Shoot your load down your little sisters
mouth?  I want it Danny, I want it." Samantha teased.
   "Yeah baby, I'm gonna shoot my load down your throat," I reached my hand
down to her pussy and began to finger her tight little cunt "It seems like
you're gonna cum soon too.  Am I right?" I asked.
   "MMMMMMPH" She moaned her answer sending lovely vibrations throughout my
dick.
   "Good, now be a good little slut and let your brother make you cum.  You
have my permission." I moaned.
   "MMM, MMMM, MMMMM!!" She screamed, her powerful orgasm crashing over her
as she continued her assault on my dick.
   "Come on baby, it's your turn, shoot that load down my tight throat,"
She chanted "Come on!  I want it!  Cum baby, Cum!"
   A few moments later I gave her what she wanted, I had a surreal orgasm,
it seemed to last for hours, she kept sucking me, slowly stopping and
accounting for my sensitive dick.  Not a lot of words were spoken after
that, it was mostly just panting.
   "This doesn't need to happen again, I feel like I took advantage of you,
you were more than a little horny when I came in..." I said as the guilt
started to set in.
   "NO!" She almost yelled "Please, I want this to continue; ever since I
saw your Facebook pictures I knew I wanted you.  We practically didn't grow
up together so please, keep doing this with me, you can do anything.  You
can fuck my tight little pussy; it's so wet just thinking about you." She
said as she grabbed my hand and brought it between her legs to see how wet
it was.
   "You are soaked!  Anything you say," I said as I moved my hand back a
bit placing my finger on her tight little asshole, starting to put a finger
in "Even you're ass, can your big brother fuck your asshole?"
   "YESSSSSSSSS" She hissed.
   In my teasing nature I decided to leave it there.  I took my hand out
from between her legs, "later, I promise.  Good night!" I said as I walked
out of her room headed for the kitchen to get a two o'clock snack.  My
snacks aren't quite normal.  Some would get a yogurt or a piece of pizza.
But I was a little different; I decided to pull out a steak that had been
put in the fridge.  I love the Ritz Carlton even more than before, it was a
cut a Wagyu beef, it costs around $300 a pound, it just hit me that I have
ate and drank a month's wage in one day.  I'm not complaining though!
   One thing that chefs need is a good set of knifes.  I personally get my
knifes one at a time and build my set up, this was one thing that I didn't
like about hotels, if they had a kitchen they most likely had shit knifes.
To my utter amusement, the manager did his research about me because there
sat a set of Shun knifes.  Thank gods.  I made a pan-seared steak with
caramelized onions and a poached egg on top.  Coupled with a nice bottle of
red wine, and a Stradivarius cigar for desert made for some good eating.
   Three o'clock rolled around as I had finished eating and cleaning.  I
went into the piano room and lit up a Cigar while playing.  I was weird,
most nights I stayed up all night I feel tired around now.  However, this
time was different, I felt invigorated, like I had just had eight hours of
solid sleep, it was wonderful.  I sat and played some happy tunes on the
piano for a while, as the sky became bright, my music became dark, the bad
memories of my childhood had started arising and I was expressing that
through the piano.  It's great for stress relief, that's for sure.  I got
into a zone where hours passed like minutes, and before I knew it, the
clock rang seven o'clock.  I knew Sam would be up a bit later due to the
fun times we had before bed, and due to the time change Megan should be up
any mi"I thought I'd find you in here" Megan said, interrupting my inner
monologue.  "Good Morning," She put her arms around me, pressing her tits
against me back while kissing me on the neck.  As sexual as this may sound,
this happened most mornings.  Again, I gotta marry this women.  "I am about
to put some coffee on, want some?" She asked.
   "Yeah, sure, I saw that they bought some Ethiopian Yirgacheffe for us,
only the best, right?" I asked sarcastically.  I soon realized that I need
to tell her about what happened between Samantha and me last night.  "Hey
Megan, I need to tell you something.  Last night, Samantha had her door
open and she was, uh, masturbating.  She saw me and I went inside of her
room.  She gave me a blowjob and I fingered her, it must of been the
alcohol, I am so sorry, please forgive me." I said leaving out the other
conversation we had in hopes of keeping my relationship somewhat intact.
   "Naughty, naughty boy you," She said "You forgot to mention the ass
fucking; you're a shit story teller you know." She said the laughing
starting in.
   "How did you know!!?" I ask, startled.
   "Samantha told me that she was going to try and lure you into her room,
so I took a short acting sleeping pill and knocked myself out, I know that
you're superhero powers could have told if I was faking.  Then after your
fun with Samantha, she came in and told me all of the, wonderful, details."
She explained, nonchalantly.
   "And you're not mad about this?" I questioned.
   "Oh god no!  You need to fuck, a lot babe, and my poor little cunt can't
handle it sometimes.  Fuck Samantha, fuck other, hell, and bring 'em home
and the three of us will have some fun, but at the end of the day, come
home to me".  Megan said, smiling.
   I proceeded to take her into my embrace and give her a long kiss.  After
our little moment was over I got some breakfast started.  Some Eggs, bacon,
French toast, and hash browns.  Since this is the first time Samantha was
going to eat my food, I wanted to impress, so I made everything perfectly.
After that I got a little omelet bar started, Megan went first, I made her
a cheese, spinach, and pepper omelet.  I went for something a bit
different, a ham, bacon, sausage, and cheese omelet.  Hey what can I say, I
love my meat.  Sam wasn't up yet so I cuddled up next to Megan on the coach
as we ate our respective breakfasts while looking over the amazing Boston
skyline.  It was about eight o'clock by this time so I decided to hit the
gym.  After a good 45 minute workout I went back to our room to get dressed
for the day.  The surprises kept coming as I approached the elevator; there
stood an employee, holding a suit.
   "Hello Mr.  Vanderbuilt, the manager said to deliver this suit to you
personally.  He said it was for your fathers will reading today.  I am
sorry for your loss, sir." He said with the utmost kindness and respect.
   "Thank you for your condolences, they are appreciated.  Also, tell the
manager I want a meeting today at 10:30." I said, seeing how far flexing my
nuts could take me at this fine establishment.
   "He will see you at 10:30 then sir" He said as he bid me goodbye and
rushed off, most likely headed towards the manager's office.
   It feels good to have this kind of power, I must admit.  Considering
that the manager's plate must be full today it is good to know that I can
arrange a meeting with the snap of my fingers.  It will be nice to find out
why I hold all this power, hopefully it will be productive.  I went back to
my room and headed into the bedroom to hang up and check out this new suit.
Unsurprisingly, it was an Alexander price, they aren't cheap.  It also came
with a French cuff shirt and a set of gold and platinum cufflinks that read
'V' on each one.  Along with a set of dress shoes.  The footwear I normally
use is a bit different to what others around me normally wear.  I usually
wear a pair of Cowboy boots; they are of the most comfortable footwear to
ever grace my feet, and however they aren't appropriate with the
aforementioned attire.  I decided to keep the suit reserved for the will
reading and funeral; I changed into my normal attire of a pair of jeans, a
tee shirt, and my boots.  As ten o'clock rolled by Samantha woke up.  I
heated up breakfast for her as I was about to walk out of the door.  I
realize that I need to talk to Samantha about what went down after our romp
last night but I was running late so I needed to wait until later.  I
kissed Megan goodbye and rushed down to the Managers office.
   Upon getting off of the elevator he was there to greet me.  He explained
how he had gotten a table for us at the hotel's restaurant to get something
to drink or eat while we eat.  Bringing me into a restaurant is dangerous,
and if the manager is as astute as I believe his is, and then he knows
this, and is willing to take the challenge.  With my years working for
Aldrich I was quick to learn the in's and out's out restaurant work, both
front and back end.  Food cost, cooking time, freshness, along with decor,
cleanliness, table setting, quality of dishes, glasses, and most
importantly, quality of staff.  All of these things, if brought together
correctly, lay the foundation for a very well running, and profit turning
restaurant.
   As we walked through the restaurant, I became hyper-aware of my
surroundings, I noticed everything.  Layout, food quality, employees, and
all improvements that could be made.  When we made it to the table, we had
some menus and water waiting.  We began making small talk, I didn't want to
spook him from the get go.
   "So, I know you're a very skilled chef, and I also know you have been
trained by one of the best chefs in the industry.  Please, tell me what you
think of our establishment, be honest." He asked.  Well, if he wants it
then he'll get it!
   "Ok," I organized my thoughts and then I turned on critique mode "your
staff needs to be better trained, as we were walking in I saw a fork on the
ground to my left and a few shards of glass to my left from a glass
breaking previously.  Your food looked to be a bit dry as I was passing the
buffet, most likely due to high heat, it you lower the temperature it will
last longer and retain moisture.  Table settings vary from one table to
another, only slightly from table to table, a napkin here, a fork there,
but it is noticed by the keen eye, nevertheless." I completed, holding back
somewhat.
   "Wow," He paused in astonishment "If you ever want a job, it could be
arranged, head chef here isn't too bad, no?  I doubt you have much time for
little old us, eh?" He said, chuckling.
   "Actually, I would gladly accept if I hadn't just recently been offered
the position of Head Chef at L'Ambroisiea" I explained "I'm actually not
that busy!"
   "Really, I assumed running everything would leave you rather busy..." He
said nonchalantly.
   "Running what?" I asked curiously "Is this related to all of the special
treatment I have been receiving?"
   "You don't know?" He asked appallingly "Your father told you no?  I
thought it was tradition..."
   "No, I left my home when I was 18 to go to Paris."
   "Ahh, I see.  Not to worry, dear friend, all shall be explained later
today at your fathers will reading.  Everything will become clear.  Please
come and talk to me after the reading and we shall talk more." With a shake
of the hand he was gone; I was left to ponder what would happen later
today.
   I decided to return to the room for a bit of downtime and deep thought.
Upon my return I found a note from the girls:
   'Went Lingerie shopping, be back at 3:00.
   Xoxo,
   Sam and Meg'
   I've never actually been happy to have to gorgeous, horny women out of
the house, but this was the exception.  I grabbed the French press and made
some coffee, I tried to sit but I couldn't, there was too much in my head
to just sit still.  11 o'clock rolled around and the will reading wasn't
until 4:00, so I had time to explore my once loved city.  I needed to
become reacquainted with it, the best way I could think of doing that is
the food scene.  Aldrich taught me something very valuable, you can find
good food anywhere, and you just have to look.  So I ventured out in search
of fish markets and local butchers.  As I walked I couldn't help but stop
at some food trucks and fast food joints to get some info on the recipes
they had.  Another habit picked up by Aldrich, as a chef, your always
looking for new flavors, new ideas, as Aldrich once told me "A good chef is
made up of 50% hard work, 50% creativity and, 10% insanity."
   After stopping at three different food trucks, I finally reached the
Farmers markets and butchers, I remembered some of the problems I saw at
The Ritz's restaurant so I decided to jot down a few notes, a few notes
soon turned into an entire menu change, and the time flew until 2:00 came
around.  I decided I have some time so I returned back to Ivan's tavern for
a burger; they noticed my face and immediately cleared a table.  After I
finished my burger an old man, about forty years my senior approached me.
   "Good afternoon Mr.  Vanderbuilt, My name is Ivan Rusnov," He spoke in a
light Russian accent "I run this establishment." He said smiling, with his
hand extended.
   "It is very nice to meet you Sir," I said grabbing his hand firmly "you
run a great establishment here, it is one of the new found gems in this
lovely city that I have been away from for so long."
   "That is an extremely kind compliment coming from you sir.  If I may
ask, where you were if not in Boston." He asked, slightly confused.
   "I have been in Paris since I was 18; I am currently a Sous Chef." I
replied.
   "Brilliant!  You must have had some interesting stories from your time
there, no?" He asked seeming genuinely interested.
   "Too many to count, I'd love to come back here before I leave for Paris
and grab a pint with you, I guarantee some good laughs!"
   "That would be an honor sir; your Father was too busy to have any time
with little old me"
   "Wait, you knew my father?" I asked with surprise.  Did everybody in
this fucking city know my dad?  What had happened after I left...?
   "Yes.  Mr.  Vanderbuilt frequented my establishment for work meetings
and the like.  He was a great man and you have my deepest condolences."
   "Thank you very much," I stopped to check my watch and it was already
2:45, I had to be home soon "I apologize but I have to get going.  How
about I come back here tomorrow night at 10, just after closing time, sound
good?" I asked.
   "Sounds great, I look forward to seeing you then.  Is there anything
else you need from us?  We sell everything from Straight razors to scotch!"
   "Actually, I do need a razor.  How much would a Straight razor, shaving
soap and a badger brush cost me?" I asked, practically knowing the answer.
   "For you Mr.  Vanderbuilt, it is on the house!" He said happily.
   "Please, we are friends now, call me Danny."
   "Okay Danny, I will get you're items for you and send you on your way."
He said standing up and scurrying away.  We said our goodbyes and I soon
made my way back to the hotel.  Once I was back at the hotel it was about
3:00.  The girls weren't back yet so I had some time to myself; I decided
to shave in solidarity.
   Traditionally wet shaving teaches a lot of good qualities; patience,
steady hands, sharpening skills, and much more.  Ivan gave me the full
treatment, in the bag I found an ivory-handled straight razor, a white tip
badger brush, a bowl of shaving soap, and lastly, a razor strop.  In
layman's terms, I had some of the best equipment possible in my possession.
I decided it would be best to start with a hot towel on my face while I
soak the brush in warm water.  I have always like the tradition of straight
shaving, most likely due to my fascination with old things.  Whether it is
old cars, vinyl records, hell even fedora's, it's all one big attraction to
old things.  As I was about half way through my shave I heard the door open
with a shriek, I made an involuntary jerking motion with my hand which
preceded to knick my face with the incredibly sharp razor.  I told them to
shut up as I finished shaving and I walked into the living room to greet
them.
   "Hey gals" I spoke "you were too loud walking in and I cut myself with a
straight razor.  Anyway, how'd the shopping go?" I asked as they both
turned to talk to me.
   "OH MY GO- Very funny Danny" Megan said chuckling "Where's you're 'cut'
then?" She asked.
   "Its right here" I said putting my finger on the previously bloody spot,
only to find it dry, with no cut present.  "What the hell..." I rushed over
to the mirror.  The fucking cut was gone, no trace of it...  "Well, I guess
we can chalk that up to all the weird shit that has been happening lately"
I completed while remembering what the manager had told me earlier.
   The next hour was filled with all of us getting dressed and whatnot.  It
turns out that the staff had also brought Megan and Samantha designer
dresses to where to the will reading and funeral.  I had learned that it
was a private event upon my father's request; Samantha and I were only
supposed to be there, with the option to invite a significant other.  We
had a car waiting outside for us that took us into the financial district.
Upon arrival at the building I saw Edward, the man who picked us up from
the airport; I greeted him and shook his hand.  He informed me that he was
to be guarding me from now on.  I agreed because I would only be here for a
few days anyway and then it is back to the kitchen, even though all of this
special treatment was great, I was happy to have this whole thing over and
done with so I can go back to work.  We were escorted to the 50th floor of
the building were greeted by my father attorney, Steven Gariepy.
   "Good Evening Mr.  Vanderbuilt, Ms.  Vanderbuilt, Ms.  Gaulle, I'm sorry
we need to meet on such sad circumstances..." He spoke with grace and
wisdom in his voice.  But I also was skeptical of him at the same time.
   "Thank you very much Mr.  Gariepy," I spoke for all three of us "It has
been a rough few days but we are managing."
   "Alright, well let's make this as painless as possible for you and
yours. Please follow me."
   He led us to his large office overlooking Boston harbor and we all sat
down.  He went about the normal procedures of giving requests our parents
had.  My father and mother put into the will that they would like to have
the house kept up but they had already created a fund for it, and it
specifically requested that we went back and took any belongings of theirs
that we would like.  There were also certain things that were specifically
given to Samantha from our mother and father.  Mostly it was little things,
such as jewelry, and family heirlooms.
   As for me, I wasn't expecting much as I had been pretty much disowned,
but to my surprise, I received a box full of different things, it was
written into the will to open it in private, so I needed to wait until I
was free to do so.  I was also given a bank account number that is
registered in my name; it is only to be accessed after opening the box. 
Then we went over inherences.  Samantha was utterly shocked when she heard
the number.
   "To my daughter Samantha, I leave a total inheritance of $50,000,000,
with an additional $5,000,000 in investments for her to do what she
pleases." The lawyer read as Samantha sat weeping, partly because of her
loss and partially of her new found status as a millionaire.  The lawyer
continued to my inheritance, "And to our son, Daniel, we leave $100,000 for
him to do what he pleases."
   There was the slap in the face I was expecting.  Good thing I had been
prepared for that.  It will get Megan and me a few good vacations, most
likely a few would be back to here!  We concluded with the Lawyer and we
headed back to the Ritz.  Samantha was constantly hugging me and
apologizing on the way home; she felt guilty and was offering me some of
her money, which I promptly declined.  Besides, I still had the box to open
so there was an upside...
   Once home, I excused myself from the girls and went into our rooms
office to open the box.  The outside looked to be some sort of metal, but
an almost ever-blackening color of metal, maybe it was just an illusion but
it looked as though the metal was actually changing color.  It was a
smaller box, about one foot long, six inches wide, and six inches tall.  I
was trying to look for a latch or something but I didn't see anything.  I
then noticed a small pad on the top of the box; I placed a finger on it and
felt a sharp pain.  The box drew some of my blood and took my fingerprint,
then proceeded to unlock.
   Inside a found a letter, it read;
   'Danny, if you are reading this then it means that I am dead, and your
life has just gotten a lot more complicated.  In order to find out what all
of this means, I need you to go back to our house and find my safe; your
fingerprint and blood have already been programed into it.  Inside you will
find a small block of metal and a leather bound book.  Take both of those
things and guard them with your life, it will explain everything.
   With all of my love,
   Frank.'
   I put down the note and looked at the other things in the box.  I found
only three items, a watch, a ring, and a set of cufflinks, all made out of
the same metal as the box.  I took a closer look at the items.  The watch
seemed to be very old, the hands were made out of gold, the face was black,
and the band was also black, it seemed very stealthy and I took a liking to
it immediately.  The ring was made of the same material; it was just a
plain old ring, nothing too special.  And last were the cufflinks, they
were mad of the black material, but they had a gold 'V' imprinted in each
one.  I noticed a common theme in all of the items; they all had a
depiction of a coin.  Inside the coin showed a 'C'.  Just as I put the
watch and ring on I felt a euphoric, almost high feeling, like I had just
had ten hours of sleep, sank into a hot tub, and had an orgasm
simultaneously, it was awesome.  The feeling soon went away and they were
just accessories I wore now.  I soon remembered that I needed to take a
trip to my old house to get the book and chunk of metal my father told me
about.  With the amount of power I toted around here I decided to have a
little fun.  I made a call to the concierge.
   "Good evening Mr.  Vanderbuilt, what can I do for you this evening?" He
asked happily.
   "Good evening, I need a Ducati Diavel sitting outside and leather riding
gear up to my room within twenty minutes, is that a problem?" I asked.
   "Not a problem sir, very good choice of bike, shall I obtain a bike for
Edward as well?"
   "Yeah, might as well, he'd try and follow me in a car and, well, cars
can't lane split!"
   "Not a problem sir, your gear should be up in around fifteen minutes,
have a lovely ride." He said as he hung up.
   He wasn't lying, gear was at my door in ten minutes, and I was suited up
and informed the girls that the contents of the box required me to take a
road trip.  Nobody objected so I was out the door pretty quick.  As I
arrived in the lobby, there was Edward, in his leathers, ready to ride.  We
made our way outside and hopped on the bikes.
   Thankfully, at 1:00AM, there wasn't too much traffic in Boston.  We were
headed for Weston, it was a short ways away, but it seems as though Edward
enjoyed riding as much as I did as we had turned a 30 minute ride into a 2
hour ride, most of this time was spent racing on the highways, doing
burnouts at stoplights, or doing other sorts of tom foolery.  Riding is a
very freeing thing, there is a certain freedom to going 100mph+ while
hanging onto a small metal chassis beneath you, there are very few things
that make you feel manlier.
   When we finally arrived at the house it was 3:00am, I told Edward that
he could come in but he couldn't follow me upstairs.  We let ourselves in
and I let Ed go and raid the kitchen for some food while I headed upstairs.
The bedrooms were so different, Sam had told me they had been remodeling,
but this house was downright beautiful now.  The master bedroom was pushed
out, with brand new his and hers bathrooms and closet's.  I went into my
dad's closet and found the safe, with a prick of the finger the safe opened
and I found the book and the metal.  As I went to grab the metal, my ring
started to glow, all of a sudden the block of metal shot up a beam of
almost blinding violet light.  It was a hologram of my father; he was
sitting in a chair.
   "Dad?" I said with pure horror in my voice.
   "Hello Son, we have got a lot to talk about." He replied.
   "Where are you?  Are you alive?" I interrogated.
   "I am afraid if you are seeing this then I am, in fact, deceased." He
sighed.  "I am me; this stone has collected all of my wisdom and knowledge
for you to access, so I will always be here for you."
   "I'm sorry I wasn't there..." I said as the tears started to form.
   "No, no.  It isn't your fault.  I didn't give you any choice, I should
have told you about all of this."
   "What is all of this dad?  I am scared; you and mom are now apparently
extremely wealthy?  Please help me understand!" I pleaded.
   "If you wish" he said sullenly "As you may have noticed, you have been
getting special treatment since you arrived.  This is because the
Vanderbuilt's have run the US from its inception and it has been passed
down from each generation to the next.  We run the US, while the Luc's run
all of the European countries, and the Takida's run Asia.  The reason why
you were never given any special treatment in Paris was because of your low
profile."
   "What do you mean 'run' the Americas?"
   "I mean we control everything.  Since the beginning, all of the
amendments, bills, polices, everything passes through us.  The President
consults us for wisdom and knowledge.  Danny, we run EVERYTHING.  Well, now
you run everything." He said as I started my decent into a blissful stage
of denial, my father was quick to snap me out of it.  "Danny!  Stay with
me. If everything went according to plan the you should have stopped by
Ivan's Tavern already, correct?"
   "Yes...  How did you...?"
   "It was the plan from the beginning.  Everything was set from the
beginning, once you got off the plane you were given signs of Russian that
only your subconscious would notice, such as your bodyguard speaking
Russian, the assistant at the Ritz speaking Russian.  You drove through
most places in Boston except where Ivan's was.  If you're subconscious
didn't recognize all of the signs then the Cigars would have been delivered
to the room.  By now, if you have smoked more than two of them you should
be noticing some signs.  More muscle on your frame, quicker healing
capabilities, feeling smarter, having better situational awareness,
heightened reflexes, not needing to sleep, and soon you will notice more
signs." That explained a lot...
   "But why?  Why would we need this?"
   "Well, obviously with the Vanderbuilt men running an entire nation, the
word must have gotten out one way or another and people want power.  So we
needed to supplement our chances.  Think about it like this, you are
already muscular, but you will have an estimated 12 times the muscle
density of a normal human being.  This means that you will still weigh
260lbs but your strength will be 12 times its previous amount.  Now for
your mind, you were already incredibly smart, with an IQ of 154, but now
you clock in at over 500, more than any other person on this planet."
   We proceeded to delve into the science behind the compounds that I had
recently smoked.  Inside of the Cigars there were Nano particles, which
when puffed via the cigar would stick inside the back of my throat and
sinuses, then every time I took a breath more and more nanites would fill
into my body through small microtears in the lungs, ingenious!  I was
finding it easier to cope the more I talked about it.
   "So what about the Ring, Watch, and Cufflinks?" I asked.
   "Well, those are all packed with artificial intelligence.  They are
courtesy of the Norse, made out of metal that can only be found thousands
of feet under subarctic terrain; the material has been named Rohdum.  They
hold artificial intelligence, we always call them specialists." He said.
   "Why?"
   "Because each piece of jewelry has different specialties.  The Ring,
named Vitur, meaning wisdom, is the workhorse of the trio, the most
powerful and the most useful.  Until my last day I was still impressed with
what that thing could do, I will let you imagine the possibilities." He
said, proceeding.  "The cufflinks are equipped with a specialist named
Skjult, meaning stealth.  Skjult is best suited for formal events, she will
help with safety, escape and evasion, and much more.  I suppose you could
call Skjult a bodyguard of sorts.  The watch, Saga, meaning history, is the
timekeepers of the Vanderbilt's through the generations, with the watch on
you have access to all of the lessons and wisdom past Vanderbuilt's deemed
important."
   "Ok, I understand, but what I don't understand is how people contact me.
I haven't been contacted yet..." I said.
   "If they need you they will notify you.  Inside the bank account that
was given to you at the will reading was an estimated 1.4 billion dollars.
This will replenish itself so don't worry about spending too much.  I had
been keeping an eye on you Danny," He said, tears swelling in his virtual
eyes "You had a good life, your girlfriend seems adorable, and your chef
seems to be a better father then I was..." He choked, tears getting the
better of his virtual emotions.
   "Hey," I comforted "don't be upset, you are here now and helping me more
than ever.  I need to get back, it is already 5:00am and Megan is probably
still up, she can't stay up all night!"
   "You are right, go home and be with her, if you need me I am just a
ring-swipe away!  Oh, and make sure to read that journal when you get a
chance..." He said sniffling.
   I put the items into my bag and walked downstairs to find Edward, with
loafs of bread, jellies, and peanut butter surrounding him.  I decided to
indulge and eat a few sandwiches with him and then we hopped on the bikes
and headed back to Boston.  There was no time for any wheelies or any fun
because we were racing against time, if there was one thing that I remember
from Boston, it was early morning rush hour.  Thankfully we made it back
just in time, I thanked Edward for spending the night with me and I
informed him I wouldn't be leaving the hotel for a while.  I said for him
to go and talk to some staff, inform them of his position in my ranks and
they would provide him a room so that he can get some sleep.  I didn't
bother talking to the manager or anyone else, all I wanted was to hug Megan
and Samantha, and they were the only people who were the same around here.
I arrived inside the room and rushed over to Megan, before she had time to
open her mouth I took her into my embrace and hugged her for what seemed to
be days.  One we were untangled, she was going to start to ask some
questions, but she could see that so much had happened that incessant
questioning was useless.  She only asked one thing.
   "Danny, things are going to change a lot aren't they?" She asked.
   "Baby, you don't know the half of it." I half sighed half smiled.  I was
just strapped into one helluva roller coaster; let's see where it takes me.
   to be continued....
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1QdQXsD 
  
HeatStressBurnsandCutsCh01