A Well-Lived Life 2 - Book 8 - NIKA
Chapter 38: Numbered Accounts

Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 38: Numbered Accounts - This is the continuation of the story told in "A Well-Lived Life 2", Book 7. If you haven't read the entire 10 book "A Well-Lived Life" and the first seven books of "A Well-Lived Life 2" you'll have extreme difficulty following the story. This is a dialog driven story. The author is a two-time Clitorids 'Author of the Year' winner (2015,2017) and won 'Best New Author' in the 2015.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Crime   Workplace   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Slow  

December 28, 1994, Chicago, Illinois

“The young women did a wonderful job on your new office,” my dad said as we ate lunch at the West Loop Café on Wednesday.

“I was overwhelmed,” I said. “I’d asked for Japanese decor, but they turned it into a set of actual Japanese rooms. I need to find some proper slippers to wear so I don’t walk around there in stocking feet.”

“The Buddhist monk was an interesting touch.”

“I told you about the Buddhist monk in Japan, right? Well, this was just a continuation of that.”

“I missed the story of the cherry blossom tree.”

I nodded, “So did most people. Those who needed to know, know. There was a girl in Japan whose name means ‘cherry blossom’.”

“Say no more,” my dad laughed, shaking his head. “Your house guests are a real treat, by the way.”

“Mom didn’t approve, obviously.”

“What would you expect, Son? Unmarried and two kids? That’s right in your mom’s wheelhouse, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded, “I do. But seriously, aren’t there bigger problems in the world to worry about?”

“Yes, including whatever has you carrying that pistol all the time.”

“It’s complicated,” I replied.

“I’m sure you have a permit, and if YOU got a concealed carry permit and a handgun permit from the City of Chicago, I suspect complicated doesn’t even begin to describe it. And when I add in the security additions for the office, and what I noticed at the house, that tells me something is seriously wrong. And the locator devices?”

“Dad, please don’t ask for details, but there is a credible threat. And it’s not one that I can take to the police because there is no proof and no admissible evidence to be had. All of this is stuff that Patrick Shaughnessy recommended based on information he and Katya uncovered.”

My dad gave me a hard look but said nothing. Having an ex-spy for a dad had been cool until about five minutes ago. Now it was dangerous, in that telling him anything at all could have all kinds of unpredictable consequences. The fact that Patrick and Katya knew about it, along with Elyse, was bad enough. Adding even more people into the mix could only make things worse, not better. Well, unless Katya and my dad teamed up in some sort of strange ex-KGB, ex-CIA partnership to take out Anthony, Connie, and Scuderi similar to the way Michael Corleone had taken out the ‘Five Families’ in The Godfather. But I didn’t think THAT was going to happen.

Fortunately, my dad dropped the issue, and I hoped he’d let it be, but I didn’t think he would, in the long term. What I needed to do was somehow take ‘Little Tony’ and Connie off the board, but not in a way that could land me in any trouble with the law. And that meant waiting to hear from Joyce who had asked me to give her some time to see if she could discover anything.

We finished our lunch and headed back to the house where I walked in on a small standoff. Albert and Jane were standing, her with her hands on her hips, and he with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at each other.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“They’re having a mild disagreement,” Amanda laughed. “I don’t know what started it, but the last bit of the argument, which was what I heard, was about how to speak properly.”

I chuckled, “Albert, what’s the problem?”

“She uses the wrong words for stuff! She called the elevator a ‘lift’ and called cookies ‘biscuits’!”

“Ah yes,” I smiled and mused audibly to myself, “George Bernard Shaw’s line about the United States and Great Britain being two countries separated by a common language.” I turned to my son, “Albert, her words are correct in England. There are lots of different words, and not everyone talks the same way. Do you remember how Jason talks?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s like that for Jane and Mark and their parents. It’s called a dialect, and they have an accent. They’re from Manchester so they talk like people who come from there. You talk like someone who comes from Chicago, but also since Kara, Elyse, and I come from Ohio, you use words we do. Remember what we call Coke?”

“Soda.”

“And what do all your friends call it?”

“Pop.”

“WEll, we use ‘soda’ because that’s the word Grandpa Adams used, because he’s from New York. Your friends use the word their parents use.”

“Oh.”

“Will you tell me what started the disagreement?”

“I didn’t know what she meant when she said ‘lift’. She showed me and I said it was an elevator.”

“And so now you two are glaring at each other? Isn’t that silly?”

“I guess so.”

“Jane, is it OK if Albert gives you a hug?”

“Yes,” she replied.

I nodded and he uncrossed his arms and hugged Jane who hugged him back, then surprised me by kissing him. Unlike Matthew and Michael, Albert had NO problem with that, and just smiled.

“You two play nice with each other! Amanda, where are Jon and Karen?”

“He decided to, as he put it, take a stroll to the hospital casualty department and see what was on!” she said, finishing with a fake English accent.

I chuckled, “This is going to be an interesting year, to say the least!”

Amanda smirked, and said quietly, “I also discovered he had a range of freedom similar to yours.”

I smiled, shook my head, because it might turn out even MORE interesting than I’d imagined. I left and went to find Kara who was curled up with a book in the ‘Indian’ room. I kissed her, got a book from the shelf, and sat down next to her to read.

December 31, 1994, Chicago, Illinois

“How many people do you usually have at this party?” Karen asked on Saturday morning.

“Probably about a hundred tonight,” Elyse said. “That’s a normal number, too.”

“And you let your kids attend?”

“The oldest ones, yes, we do,” Kara said. “Jesse, Birgit, Matthew, and Michael for sure. We’ll see how Albert, Stephie, and Ashley hold up. We have sparkling grape juice for them at midnight.”

“We usually have a bunch of Naval officers from Great Lakes and college students, as well,” I added. “The college girls give the Navy boys something to do!”

“Or someone to do!” Kara smirked.

“I’m simply trying to ensure the best possible morale for the troops,” I grinned.

“You’ve been doing this for some time, then?” Jon asked.

“Pretty much since we moved into the house,” I said. “The parties Elyse and I threw at the apartment we shared were much smaller. Are you two going to let your kids participate? I’m sure Albert will take care of Jane!”

Karen laughed, “After their little spat they seem to be attached at the hip!”

“And Amber seems to have taken a shine to your son,” Kara said.

“Jesse’s harem is thinning out?” I chuckled.

“Amber is keeping her options open!” Kara laughed.

“Are Carol and Stan coming tonight?” I asked.

“Yes,” Elyse said. “And Francesca is allowed to stay up, too. That was Stan’s doing, by the way.”

“Of course it was. Her mom has her fitted for a chastity belt!”

“How long have those two been a couple?” Karen inquired with a soft laugh.

“Pretty much since he was a few months old,” I said. “If I were her parents, I’d have her on birth control the second she had her first period. Nothing this side of Armageddon is going to stop those two from being together.”

“Who watches the little kids tonight?”

“A couple of neighbor girls who are in High School,” Elyse replied. “And we check on them pretty regularly. But any of the kids who are five and up pretty much hang out with the adults. They all love to dance.”

“Shall we get the day going and get the house ready?” I asked.

Everyone agreed and we set about preparing for the party. Early in the afternoon, Jake, Joyce, and their kids arrived as planned. That gave me a chance to speak to Joyce privately. We went to my study where I shut the door so we could speak privately.

“Do you have anything?” I asked.

“It’s my sister; I’m certain of it. And believe it or not it all goes back to that stuff when she was fourteen. She REALLY holds a grudge.”

I sighed, “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

“She’s been after you ever since, and once she couldn’t have you, she decided to try to ruin your life. Well, minus one serious attempt to trap you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Joyce nodded, “I can’t prove it, but I will bet you anything you care to wager that she wasn’t really on the Pill. You were lucky as hell.”

I shook my head, “Then some guardian angel was watching out for me because all the girls got pregnant the first time, minus the after-effects of the Pill.”

“I also discovered she’s been causing some of the troubles I’ve been having with my businesses. And you know what THAT is about.”

I smiled, “You and me screwing in her bed. That might have been just a bit too ‘in your face’.”

“We were teenagers!” Joyce laughed. “Chalk it up to being dumb.”

“So, now it’s OUR problem. What’s the plan?”

“It’s tricky, and you know why.”

“Because anything that draws Federal attention will lead back to your grandfather and his legitimate businesses. But is that really the case? You have never been involved in anything and it’s all on Anthony and Connie. They can claim whatever they like, but I know your grandfather filed tax returns and showed sufficient income for his lifestyle. And the money from the other businesses was thoroughly laundered into foreign bank accounts.”

“And how do you know THAT?” Joyce asked, clearly shocked by the revelation.

I smiled, “I talked business with your grandfather on MANY occasions. I honestly don’t think they can touch you or your grandmother. And it’s those accounts that are keeping things afloat for your sister and her husband. Cut those off and they’re toast. There just isn’t enough money to be made, especially with the black and Hispanic gangs muscling in.”

“You may have just hit on a plan,” Joyce said. “Your friend Samantha has contacts with banking regulators, right?”

I chuckled, “More than she would care to. What are you thinking?”

“To cut a deal with the Feds and turn over the bank names and account numbers.”

It was my turn to be surprised.

“You have those?” I asked.

“In Grandfather’s notebook, in code. My mom knew how to decipher the code. She won’t tell me how she knew, but she did.”

“So the Feds get all the money and they agree to leave you and the businesses alone? That’s a risky deal to make, and once you go to them, they’ve got you. I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you have the passcodes?”

“Yes, they were in the notebook.”

“Well, if we know the account numbers and passcodes, it’s easy enough to transfer the money out of the accounts and bounce it around the world enough that they’ll never find it.”

“And do what with it?” Joyce asked.

“I’m thinking Doctors Without Borders could use a nice donation from Connie and Anthony, don’t you agree? I guarantee Samantha or Jeri knows a lawyer who can make the anonymous donation from an account in the Cayman Islands.”

“How do YOU know all of this?”

I chuckled, “Remember who Samantha’s mentor is and where my sister works.”

“And they’ll keep quiet about it?”

“Sure. It’s easy enough to do with the information you have. I bet you anything that Anthony wasn’t smart enough to change the passcodes.”

“But what’s the end game?”

“No money, no power,” I said. “If they can’t pay anyone, they can’t do me any real damage. And they’ll have no clue what happened with the money. All the bank will tell them is that the money was transferred out with proper authorization. They don’t know YOU know, do they?”

“I don’t see how they could.”

“Then when Samantha gets here I’ll talk to her.”

“What will you tell her?”

“The truth; what else? My sister has some idea from back in the old days in Milford. Samantha will say nothing to anyone.”

“You’re sure you can trust her?”

“You mean the girl who trusted me to take care of her when her dad was being arrested for child porn? Who would spend every dollar of her half-a-billion to help me if I just asked? Who lets me use her private jet whenever I need it? Who took me to Saint Martin with a bunch of her friends? That girl?”

“I missed that whole story somehow! Saint Martin, huh?”

I smirked, “The Saint Martin Six.”

“Mr. Adams, you are STILL incorrigible! But I thought that was over.”

“It is; well, that kind of craziness is for sure. Right now it’s my wives, plus Michelle. And I have no plans to be with anyone or even THINK about being with anyone in the near future. How that plan plays out in the long run remains to be seen.”

“You don’t think Connie and Anthony will lash out?” she asked.

“Against whom?” I said in a faux-Russian accent.

“Which Bond movie is that from?”

Octopussy. When General Orlov is asked about American retaliation for the bomb that would go off on their own base. The point is, at whom do they lash out? Heck, I’d be tempted to have the money wind up in Scuderi’s bank account, but bringing the money back into the US has too many risks.”

“You are a very devious man.”

I nodded, “I had good teachers. You aren’t so bad yourself. After all, we had the same teacher.”

“True. OK. I’ll get you the information once you and Samantha agree.”

We hugged and left my study and went to hang out with the other guests who had arrived early, including Sofia, Stavros, and Alexa. Our closest friends drifted in over the course of the afternoon and we ordered a bunch of pizzas from Connie’s to feed everyone.

“That looks VERY good,” Jon said, hungrily, when I served him a deep-dish slice.

“Chicago-style pizza is the best. Forget that thin New York crap! You should try the stuffed spinach pizza next. It’s even thicker!”

“I think I’m going to gain a lot of weight this year!”

“We have a treadmill and free weights in the basement you’re free to use, plus there’s a new gym that opened near the hospital.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that!”

I made sure everyone was served and the kids were settled, then invited Samantha into my study.

“I need a favor,” I said in my best Marlon Brando impression, which wasn’t very good.

“Anything,” she laughed, “Don Stephen!”

She was more right than she knew. Well, she’d find that out soon enough.

“I want to make an anonymous donation of several million dollars to Doctors Without Borders.”

She was taken aback, but recovered quickly from her surprise.

“Did I miss something? You don’t HAVE that kind of money.”

“Did I say it was MY money?” I asked with an evil grin. “Let’s just say I know the account numbers and passcodes for accounts in two Swiss banks and want to make the money disappear, but end up in the accounts of Doctors Without Borders in France.”

“What the heck are you talking about? I mean, that’s doable, obviously, but what’s going on?”

“I need your promise you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. You can discuss it only with me or my sister.”

“Sure. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“In the past I had some dealings with some nefarious characters,” I said.

“Suddenly, I’m seeing a VERY different picture of Lisa Glass and John Lentz. And the ‘Don Corleone’ voice now makes a LOT more sense than just a gag.”

“John? Well, only because she got to him first, instead of my friends,” I said. “And now you know the thing that could put me away forever.”

“Never! Go on.”

“One of the wiseguys from the old days is, as the Italians say, a stone in my shoe. But I know how to hurt him. And I know how to get the information to get the money out of the two Swiss banks. But I need you to find a place to move it to. It has to be a numbered account, in Switzerland, so the ownership can’t be revealed. Then it should go to a new account in the Caymans that you set up. From there it goes to Médecins Sans Frontières in France.”

“You HAVE been listening!”

“I have.”

“Dad had numbered accounts in Switzerland, so this will be trivial. I can bounce through two of them, then have the funds land in one of our accounts in the Caymans, then transfer them back to a new account in Switzerland, which is a better choice, then transfer it to France. That makes it impossible to trace.”

“OK. If I get you the codes, how quickly can it be done?”

“Literally minutes before it’s out of those first accounts. It’ll be in the Caymans within in a few hours of you saying ‘go’. The tricky part is setting up the new account in Switzerland, but I have an attorney in Zurich who’ll take care of that. When?”

 
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