Chapter 2

Hunter Blackwater

This was fucking bullshit. I didn't have time for this.

Right now, I should be overseeing the final testing phase of our latest nanotech prototype, a project that could revolutionize medical diagnostics, instead of bailing my uncle out of prison yet again, but here I was, walking through the sterile, echoing corridors of a men's prison. It was a world apart from the cutting-edge labs and sleek boardrooms I was accustomed to.

I was only here because I fucking had to be.

The visitor's section was as bleak as the last time I'd had to do this. The row of partitions was sad, with peeling grey paint on the walls and dreary off-white-colored phones. Sitting there on the other side of the glass partition was Uncle Vincent.

Right now, his face was the last one I fucking wanted to see.

Our relationship was nothing short of turbulent. Every time he came back into my life, I needed to clean up his mess. Over and over again, but I told myself that this was the last time.

I remembered the first time like it was yesterday.

He'd been running an illegal gambling operation. According to him, it was supposed to be foolproof, or so he'd said, but when he got busted by an undercover cop, I'd found myself scrambling to control the damage before it ruined my company name. It was a fucking disaster, and it hadn't stopped there.

Next came the money laundering fiasco, with its tangled web of offshore accounts and criminal tax evasion charges. It had taken everything I'd had to get it thrown out on a technicality.

And after all that, there was still the international smuggling ring that I'd had to contend with. Vincent had gotten caught up in something far bigger than he'd anticipated. It had taken every contact I had, every favor I could call in, to negotiate a reduced sentence for him and to get him out on bail early for "good behavior".

And now here I was, doing the same fucking thing for him. He'd only made it thirty days out of prison before fucking up again.

I really didn't need any of this today.

I picked up the phone, watching as he did the same. For a moment, the two of us were silent.

"Didn't expect you to show your face here again." His voice crackled through the line, tinged with what sounded like extremely reluctant respect.

"Uncle Vincent," I replied, trying to mask my impatience. "I would rather be anywhere but here. But you're the only family I have left, so I felt obligated to come."

He scoffed. "You're not here for me. Fuck that. It's more like you're trying to keep the Blackwater family name and your precious little company from being dragged through the mud again."

I felt a surge of frustration.

"You know I've worked hard to distance myself from all this… mafia business of yours. Getting yourself involved in wars with the likes of the Marconi and the Fiorini families is not helping one fucking bit," I snapped.

Vincent's expression hardened. "Those Marconi bastards had it coming. And the Fiorinis? They've been stepping on our toes for years."

I sighed. "That's exactly why I separated myself from this world. I made a choice to pursue a legitimate business. I wanted to break away from these endless, destructive cycles. My company is about creating a future, not clinging to a past filled with guns and violence."

There was a long pause between us, the tension heavy. Vincent's eyes, once fiery, seemed to dim slightly. "You think you're better than this, better than me?"

I leaned forward, my voice low and laced with a finality that even Vincent couldn't ignore. "Goddammit, Vincent. What do I have to do? I should just let them throw you in jail for the rest of your fucking life. Now you've dragged me into this mob war along with you, and I've had to call in every favor in the whole fucking book. I've got hardly anyone left that I can call."

Vincent's eyes met mine, a flicker of desperation hidden behind his usual bravado.

I wanted to leave him there to rot, but I couldn't do it. My father would have expected me to help family.

‘Blood is blood', he would have said.

So, I'd give my uncle one last chance.

I cleared my throat before continuing, trying to steel myself for what I had to do. "So here's the deal. Your first choice is this. You can try to beat this on your own, but don't you dare bring my name into it. If you do, I'll have you killed, and that's not a threat; it's a fucking promise. Choice number two—I find some loophole, or some technicality, and I pull all the strings I have left. But then you disappear. Leave the country, change your identity, do whatever you want. But don't ever come back. Because if you do, I'll kill you myself. You got me?"

There was a heavy silence as my words hung in the air between us. His green eyes bored into mine, steady and unyielding, but glimmering with a twinge of fear.

He was taking me seriously.

Fucking good.

Finally, Vincent spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just get me out."

I stood up, feeling a mix of hesitant relief and deep-seated frustration swirling deep in my belly. "I'll make the arrangements. But remember, once you're out, you're on your own. This is the last time, Vincent. The last fucking time I clean up your mess. Next time, it's on you."

"Got it, boss," he said, and I hung up the phone. There was nothing left to say. We'd reached a breaking point, and there was no coming back.

I turned around and walked out.

* * *

As expected, my stock prices were tanking.

I needed to fix this, and fast.

I called in my PR representative, Elaine, a seasoned professional in her fifties whose expertise had steered my company through rough waters before. She entered the office, her expression a mix of concern and resolve.

"Elaine, thanks for coming on such short notice," I started, getting straight to the point. "The situation with Vincent is blowing up. We need a strategy to stabilize our stock and reassure our investors. I've pulled the necessary favors to deal with the legal side, but now, it's a PR nightmare."

Elaine listened, her brow furrowed. When I finished, she let out a long breath. "Hunter, you know I've been around the block a few times, and I've seen my fair share of crises. But this… this is a different beast."

I leaned forward, eager for her insight. "What do you suggest? You've always had a way of spinning things in our favor. You have to have something…"

She shook her head, a wry smile touching her lips. "Be thankful I'm around, but this time, I'm not your solution. You need a fresh face for this, someone young, someone who can connect with the public and the media in a way I can't. The narrative needs to be about moving forward and not looking back. My being the spokesperson won't deliver that message effectively, not anymore."

I paused, considering her words. She hadn't steered me in the wrong direction before, but this felt a little out of my element. That being said, I trusted her.

"You really think a new, younger PR face is the answer?"

Elaine nodded. "Absolutely. It's time for a change in strategy. The public loves a redemption story, a tale of turning over a new leaf. You need someone who can embody that narrative."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Alright, I trust your judgment. Find me someone who fits that bill."

Elaine stood up, her demeanor all business. "I'll start looking for the right person. In the meantime, keep a low profile. Let me handle the media for now. We'll turn this around, Hunter, but it's going to be a team effort."

She was right; sometimes the best way to face a crisis was to embrace change head-on. It was time to find someone who could represent the new face of my company, someone who could help us navigate through this shitstorm.

"I'll hire whatever name you suggest," I replied.

"It's more like which PR firm will be willing to work with you."

"That bad?" I cringed.

"Yes, Hunter, this is that bad," she responded firmly. "Your uncle's mess has spilled over, and now it's tarnishing your reputation by association. We need a firm that's not just capable, but also willing to take on a challenge of this magnitude."

I nodded slowly, digesting her words.

"Just get me a name," I said softly.

"Don't worry, I will," she offered with a grim smile.