Chapter 4 THE TARGET
THE TARGET
~Lola~
I skimmed through the contents of the email, my fingers hovering on the keys as my gaze landed on the words:
Target Name: Vincent Vale.
The name rang a bell. I'd heard it in passing. I didn't know much about him, but I knew Vincent Vale to be a big shot in the corporate society.
I read on.
Identify: CEO of Vale Capital/ billionaire Philanthropist.
Age: 32.
Job description: Approach him and get his attention. No disguises.
I stared at the last sentence, then at the first, my forehead knitting together in confusion.
Approach him and get his attention?
This was an unusual task.
Usually, whenever we got a job the client filled out the job description, stating clearly what kind of service they wanted us to render. They were also required to provide us with the target’s name, their identity, and a photo of them, to enable us do our jobs without any mistakes. Then the next step was to select one out of the two packages we offered: regular and premium.
Regular covered a one-off lying plan: one lie, one mission. While the premium package was subject to renewal. And because it involved long term lies, it ultimately incurred a higher cost.
I scrolled further down to the bottom page that had information on the client's selected package and the upfront payment receipt, my eyes expanding in astonishment as I saw the zeros.
No. Freaking. Way.
I clasped my hand over my mouth, and for a moment there it seemed like I was hallucinating as I counted the numbers on my screen.
I lowered my hand back down on the keys, gawking at those figures over and over again with a jaw that nearly hit the floor.
This was the highest paying premium package job I'd ever gotten since the inception of my company. This money could last two fucking lifetimes. It was almost like they deliberately made me an offer I couldn't refuse.
And all I needed to do was approach the man?
That was it?
Easy peasy.
I squealed under my breath, bouncing my feet excitedly as I imagined how much fun I was going to be having with this. This job was huge, and unlike anything I'd ever done.
I stared at the portrait photo of the dashing Vincent Vale attached to the email, taking his striking features in. Then my grin faded like ice flakes.
Why would the client insist I approach him without any disguises?
That was a little odd.
But honestly, for that amount, I didn't mind. Anything my client wanted me to be, I was going to be, as long as it didn't involve murdering someone.
The fact that this client had selected the premium package for a job as simple as approaching Vincent Vale meant that this wasn't all there was to it. My hunch told me that this was far from over. I felt like approaching him was only the beginning of something greater to come, and I was so looking forward to seeing what that was, as well as what other job description would pop up from that anonymous address.
I signed the electronic contract, sealing the deal.
For the next two days my team and I got to work, digging up whatever we could on our new target, Vincent Vale.
Like we did with every other job, Jake and Jacob ran a thorough background check on him, while Sky, Bianca and I kept tabs on him—or stalked him if you may—taking note of where he frequented, as well as his likes and dislikes. All of this was to help us know him better and come up with a tailored plan that matched his personality.
By the 3rd day, we gathered around the long table in the meeting room to draft the final phase of “operation approach Vincent Vale.”
“Alright people,” I clapped my hands, resting my elbows on the table as I leaned up from my seat. “Walk me through everything we've got on this guy.”
Jake clicked away on the laptop in front of him, diverting our attention towards the large screen as a photo of Vincent pulled up on the projector. “Vincent Vale,” he said, stopping on the first slide. “Second-generation heir and CEO of Vale Capital, the biggest construction conglomerate in all of America. Construction, real estate, infrastructure. He did it all. His parents died in a head-on trailer collision. And just early last year, he was ranked by Forbes Magazine as one of the most influential billionaires under 40.”
“He has a fixed routine,” Bianca chimed in. “He goes to work every day at 8am and clocks out at exactly 5pm. No second less. No minute later.”
“After work he visits some big casinos in the heart of the city,” Jacob continued, the slide shifting to another photo of Vincent in a burgundy suit, stepping out of a casino with his hands tucked into his pocket. “He stays there for a while and heads home afterwards. They don't let just anyone in the casinos so I couldn't find out what goes on inside.”
“This man literally has no social life whatsoever,” Sky said, like that was the most pitiful thing on planet earth. “Well except for on the weekends when he visits Eden, a popular strip club downtown. He goes there every Saturday night, which is why that place is your best shot at ambushing him.”
I lounged back in my chair, pondering on what line of action to take next.
Approaching Vincent Vale has proven to be the most challenging yet intriguing job I've ever gotten. I'd met all kinds of billionaires. The playboys. Mr tough on the outside but sweet on the inside. The douchebags. The perverts. But he was uhm... sort of unpredictable in a very complicated way. He clearly wasn't an open book like the others. He was all shades of arrogant. Ambitious. Emotionally guarded, and so cold that he was referred to as the ice prince of Miami.
Do you know how overbearing a person has to be to be nicknamed that?
He was also said to keep females at arm's length. Everyone claims he isn't moved by women.
Isn't that laughable considering that he frequents a fucking strip club?
What a hard nut to crack.
With a complex personality like his, I knew full-on seduction was surely going to be an epic fail. But when has Lola Beaumont ever been scared of a little challenge? I didn't care how difficult he was determined to be. I just had to thread carefully. I had one shot… just one shot at grabbing his attention.
I tore my eyes away from the projector and turned to my team, my face lighting up like I'd just won the lottery. “I’ve got an idea,” My lips stretched into a smirk, mischief gleaming in my eyes.
I’d just thought of the perfect meet cute.
What better way to grab a man's attention than the cliché damsel in distress trope?
But I was going to do it my way, and make it as real as possible.
