In the Valley of the Mountain Lions - Book 5
Copyright© 2024 by August the Strong
Chapter 24: Problems with the inheritance
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 24: Problems with the inheritance - The people of this once remote valley in the Andes have new prospects. They now have phones, internet and contact with people. They can finally buy the basics. The group of twelve-year-old girls abducted to Peru are integrating better and better. They often look enviously at the pregnant teenagers and want to have their first sexual experiences too. Above all, there is one important task: to track down the billions of dollars belonging to the dead criminal Rus and put them to good use.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft ft/ft Teenagers Consensual Fiction Harem Interracial
Although the conflict with Zhang and his large corporation had initially been resolved, I slept very restlessly that night. Had it really come to an end, or did Zhang intend to harm us? How secure was the down payment required for the construction of the dam? On Monday, I was planning to fly to Medellín to secure the inheritance for Olivia’s son, our little Michi. Was now the right time, or did Zhang and his company still pose a threat?
Early that morning, I sat with Dr Liebknecht in the anteroom while Luisa served us an early breakfast. Ramona thought I had given Zhang too much gold, far too much, she said. We didn’t know exactly how much it was worth, but it was probably close to two million dollars.
“Yes, Ramona, it was a lot, but I did it deliberately. Maybe it will satisfy his greed, and he’ll leave us alone. But I already know one thing: at some point, he won’t accept the agreed deposit. Then we would have lost a lot more. He has the power. The government here supports him unconditionally. He could even use the police and the military against us. Ramona, I hope we’ve got off lightly, but we can’t be sure.”
“Do you really think so, Michael? I was amazed at how you managed to get him to accept your proposal. That was clever. Obviously, you’ve hit a sore spot, the reputation of his major project. That’s why he won’t dare harm us.”
“Hopefully, Ramona. I hope so.”
We continued to discuss my upcoming flight to Medellín and the things that needed to be done in my absence. Then Babette approached us, her steps unsteady. “Excuse the interruption,” she said, “but it’s time. My waters have broken and I’m going into labour.”
The doctor jumped up and hugged her. “What? How long?”
“Ten minutes at most. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You’re crazy, but incredibly brave and strong. Come with me. I’ll help you.”
While Mrs Liebknecht led Babette into the treatment room, I called Esther, Priya, and Inka to assist our doctor. Meanwhile, Luisa prepared boiling water. The excitement in the room was immense. Everyone wanted to know how her friend was doing. The woman in labour screamed out her pain, shriller than I had ever heard during childbirth before. But after less than 90 minutes, she had done it, maybe a record for a second birth. We had a Sunday child. Newborn Rafael also cried at the top of his lungs. For me, it was the most beautiful sounds, like a Beethoven symphony; it was truly an “Ode to Joy”.
Shortly before lunch, Zhang called. “Berthier,” he said, “I want to tell you that we consider what you did yesterday an affront, a hostile act. I’m meeting with the responsible minister tomorrow. Your planned dam will never be approved. If you can’t build it, we’ll forfeit your extorted deposit. End of story! That’s it!”
He ended the call before I could answer. He sounded angry. He simply couldn’t handle yesterday’s defeat. I had wounded his ego. He would never forgive me for that.
And, unfortunately, he was right. Without a building permit, there would be no dam. While I could reclaim the deposit, it would certainly take years, and the outcome of the court case was anyone’s guess. I didn’t even know which court had jurisdiction. Threatening to inform the public again would have no effect, quite the opposite, in fact. This could cause even more harm to our community.
Feeling annoyed, I sat down on the terrace, lit a cigarette, and tried to clear my thoughts. Suddenly, I remembered Babette. Although I had given her a thumbs-up shortly after the birth, I still needed to congratulate her properly. Little Rafael was asleep. Babette looked at me expectantly. “Beth, you were wonderful. Congratulations on your second son.”
She received a kiss on her blood-crusted lips. Esther helped me to soothe her sore lips. I poured lukewarm tea into her mouth. She enjoyed the way I cared for her, caressed her, and whispered loving words. She was a wonderful person, my secret love.
“Beth, should I inform your brothers? Or would you like to do it yourself?”
She laughed. “Your Romanian is too poor, Michael. Look what they wrote to me.”
She had already sent a picture of tiny Rafael to her siblings. Her brother Georghe had responded by congratulating her lovingly and sending back a selfie of himself and his brother Adam. In the photo, the young boys were giving a thumbs-up, each with a kissy face. Babette translated the caption: “Rafael receives the best wishes from Uncle Adam and Uncle Georghe!”
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with joy. I forgot about the argument with Zhang for the time being. There were far more important things in life than gold. Babette, her two children and her siblings meant more to me than all the gold in the world. Nevertheless, I was not ready to give in at all. Zhang’s company had stolen from us, and they weren’t going to get away with it so easily. However, I needed peace and quiet in the valley for the next few days. The planned flight to Medellín was very important for Olivia and her son, Michael Alekso. After all, Rus inheritance was worth much more than ten million.
After lunch, I called the pilot in Trujillo who flew me over our valley in April. He assured me that he could have landed on the road to Tiso without any problems if the container hadn’t been parked in the middle of the road. Despite it being Sunday, he was willing to fly two passengers directly from the valley to Lima immediately. Zarina managed to manoeuvre the container, which contained some of the gold stored there, to the ore processing plant with difficulty. However, first, hundreds of kilograms of gold ore had to be transferred to one of the construction huts in the Palazzo gardens.
Shortly afterwards, the pilot did a loop over our valley and landed against the steady wind towards the canyon. He taxied the four-seater to the end of the road, just before the ore processing plant, turned it around, and got out smiling. He was delighted by my friendly greeting, and the small wad of dollar bills I’d promised him.
Olivia and I were ready to set off. We had discussed everything important. Ramona had taken overall responsibility for the valley, while Sula was once again responsible for securing it. Babette still needed to rest and take care of her newborn baby.
Olivia was terrified of flying in the small plane. But finally, we took off. She clung to me and screamed in fear as it lifted off the ground. However, we soon enjoyed the short flight to the Peruvian capital together. We caught the evening flight to Medellín, and I was able to easily purchase tickets from the LATAM Airlines counter. Shortly before midnight, we landed in Medellín, a wonderful city of over a million people nestled at the foot of the Colombian mountains.
The Tama family welcomed us to the Palace of Rus, even though it was after 11 a.m. Although we were tired, Rodrigo Tama, Rus’ pseudo-lawyer, should show me the mail for Boguruskij. In the foyer, Tama opened two built-in cupboards. I was amazed. Both were full of packages and courier mail. He helped me carry twelve parcels, several sealed courier packages and over fifty letters into the study. I planned to sort through the mail the next morning.
Olivia wanted to spend the night in my room, but I was too tired. Moreover, she had a boyfriend now, the Peruvian worker named Junior Huerto. When I asked her about him, she just said, “Oh, him. Yes, I still hope he’ll be my husband one day. But unfortunately, he’s terrible in bed.”
What was wrong with Olivia? She was becoming more and more selfish, often criticising others but hardly ever criticising herself. She recently had an argument with Amira and Antonio. Isabella whispered to me that Olivia had tried to seduce Antonio, but he loves Amira and rejected her advances. In any case, I had to keep an eye on this situation. Until now, the young woman, who was just eighteen years old, had been such a valuable person. I couldn’t allow any kind of escapades.
Early next morning, she came to my bed stark naked, cuddled up to me, and wanted to be pleasured. Her fingers searched for my penis, which seemed to stretch out towards her tender touch. I let it happen for a few seconds, almost fainting, but finally my mind prevailed. I grabbed her hand and pulled my manhood away from her. “Stop! Olivia, you have a boyfriend. You have to be faithful to him. Nothing will happen between us, never again. You’re engaged.”
“Michael, please help me. I need this today. Junior hasn’t even made me orgasm yet. He’s not a man; he’s more of an awkward boy who can’t control himself.”
“Then you need to talk to him about it. Just tell him what you want and give him time. Now go to your room. I want to rest for a while.”
When Olivia hesitated, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and seeking my warmth, I pretended to be angry and practically threw her out of bed. The young Indio woman pulled a pout, pretended to be offended, and stomped into the bathroom. I followed her naked beauty with my gaze. What a sight! But I had to stay strong. I took a deep breath; thought about the complicated tasks ahead and gradually distracted myself from my desire. One thing was clear to me, though. We had to establish new rules at home. Anyone who chose a partner had to be faithful to him. I wanted to make that absolutely clear upon our return.
Mrs Tama had made us a wonderful breakfast. Afterwards, I sorted the letters. Some of them were registered mail, but none had been opened yet. Olivia gave me a defiant look, opened the letters, and handed me the English ones. She then translated the Spanish ones into bullet points. Several letters were reminders from the city of Medellín to file tax returns for 2016, 2017, and 2018, and to pay the assessed tax debt for 2015. According to a court order from 2017, the tax debts had been seized from Boguruskij’s account. This meant that the account was legally frozen until the requested tax returns were submitted.
Otherwise, there was nothing important. It mainly consisted of invoices from 2016 and numerous reminders. Eight invoices from Colombia needed paying. Olivia called the trades people and service providers, informing them of the invoice recipient’s death in 2016 and promising to pay as soon as the deceased’s estate had been settled.
The courier shipments from FedEx, UPS, Kelhok, and Hatrans were more interesting. First, I opened the sealed letters from the banks in Panama and the Cayman Islands. Fortunately, they were in English. I quickly drafted and printed two reply letters. HSBC Bank in Georgetown received notification that the account holder of the requested account was Michael Berthier and that all future correspondence should be conducted online via the account mailbox. The purpose of the account was unclear to me. There were no incoming or outgoing payments and no deposit account. Although the modest account balance of ‘only’ $442,000 was much less than that of other accounts belonging to the criminal Boguruskij, it was still a substantial sum at my disposal. A written order was given to the Chinese BIH bank in Georgetown to report the investments semi-annually via the mailbox. When Tama was asked to sign the letters, he laughed and showed me the stamp that Rus had used for the correspondence. The stamp was a masterpiece. Amazingly, the signature looked deceptively real, as if it had been signed by hand.
At around 10 a.m., I called Sentasco. Although the notary had reserved the afternoon for our meeting, he was not interested in meeting me. Mr Sentasco told me over the phone that no other heirs had come forward, but that the Medellín tax authorities had requested the confiscation of all of Boguruskij’s assets due to tax evasion and unpaid tax returns. A hearing had been scheduled for the following day. Mr Sentasco was of little help; in fact, he tried to convince me that the tax authorities were right and that their claim was legitimate. He could no longer represent us as he was employed by the city of Medellín.
Without a Colombian lawyer, I would never be able to enforce Michael’s claims. It was so frustrating! But Michi was the sole heir. He was entitled to the billionaire’s wealth. Then I remembered Professor Bonille, head of the law department at the University of Medellín, who had helped us register the inheritance during our first visit to Colombia. And I was in luck. He accepted my invitation to lunch and cancelled his afternoon lecture at the university. Clearly, our problem was more important to him than his work; it was almost too good to be true!
A little while later, we heard a horn honking at the gate. It was Bonille, picking us up in an armoured limousine, just as he had done on our first visit. The driver was one of the two security guards from last time. We drove just outside the city to Casaloma. From the terrace of the top-rated ‘Colosal’ restaurant, we had a fantastic view of a lush green valley and the town on the opposite mountainside. The air was filled with an incredible variety of birdsong. In a clearing, the Andean cock-of-the-rock, which we knew from our own valley, and which is revered as Peru’s national bird, was strolling around with its bright red head and magnificent plumage. There were feeders hanging there where green-and-black hummingbirds, known as green musketeers, were feeding. This endangered species of hummingbird buzzed over our heads by the dozen. The restaurant brought the beauty of nature closer to all its guests, with exotic plants bearing enchantingly fragrant blossom providing an added enhancement.
The food and service were excellent, but that wasn’t why we were here. I briefly explained our problem to our host again. Bonille knew Sentasco through his dealings with Colombian drug lords. “He’ll do anything for money,” said Bonille. Shortly afterwards, we agreed to use the informal ‘you’ form of first-name basis. Hernandez was a kind-hearted man. He was sad about some negative developments in his country, but he was also incredibly proud of the victory over the drug cartels. “Sentasco tried to whitewash the bosses, but we had overwhelming evidence. The main perpetrators were sentenced to life imprisonment. Two bosses were extradited to the US. I’m surprised Sentasco didn’t pay with his life for the failure of his defense. But perhaps he’s still working for the gang leaders’ relatives.”