The Successor: A Novel
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Make-or-break decisions involving millions of dollars are all in a day’s work for Christian Gillette, chairman of Everest Capital, New York’s most renowned private equity firm. He’s taken on the toughest, most powerful, and often most dangerous adversaries and prevailed–all the while honing his skill for being cool under fire, literally. But now Gillette will be put to the ultimate test. He’s offered the chance to seal a deal unlike any other, one that goes beyond boardrooms, balance sheets, and even Everest itself–one that will leave its mark on history.
Gillette is no stranger to Jesse Wood, the first African American president of the United States, having been Wood’s chosen running mate in his historic bid for the White House. Though still slightly upset over being dropped from the ticket at the eleventh hour, Gillette’s not about to ignore the chief executive’s summons to a top-secret meeting at Camp David. There, Wood drops a bombshell: The president of Cuba is dead. Cuba’s communist regime has kept the dictator’s demise hush while it races to fill the power vacuum. And the United States is poised to support a cabal of Cuban professionals plotting a coup. The President wants Gillette to meet with the conspirators and size up the chances for a successful capitalist revolution. But by no means can his mission be traced back to the White House. If anything goes wrong, Gillette is on his own.
And if certain people have their way, something will go wrong. For the conspiracy to liberate Cuba isn’t the only one afoot. Enemies in high places, who will go to any lengths to wreak revenge on Gillette and to unseat President Wood, have set in motion a campaign of deception, sabotage, and murder whose shockwaves will resonate from the streets of Havana to the Oval Office. But for Gillette, who has just named his alluring and ambitious protégé, Allison Wallace, as his successor at Everest, the greatest peril may lie much closer to home.
The Successor is blue-chip Stephen Frey, marshaling his flawless instincts for edgy, provocative, breathtaking suspense with a master’s touch.
From the Hardcover edition.
She backed off a few steps as he took the podium to thunderous applause. These people were keenly aware of how much money Christian had made them over the years. He held his hand up, politely asking for quiet. “Thank you very much and good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he began as the clapping finally faded. “Thanks for coming this weekend. I want you all to have a wonderful time.” He grinned. “One thing, as all of this is on me, I wish you’d try to remember to use your cell phones at all
Allison didn’t want to leave the key lying on Debbie’s desk, so she reached up and replaced it on the molding. When she had, she turned around and pointed at Sherry. “Don’t tell anyone,” she warned. “Of course not,” Sherry said as they walked toward reception, rolling her eyes as if Allison really hadn’t needed to say that. “Now come on and guess what Chris is going to give me. Jesus, Allison, don’t be so uptight about this.” Allison pursed her lips. This was what happened when you socialized
he asked, bending over and dusting himself off. “Looks like it’s being shocked.” “The snake senses when the rat inhales,” she explained, “and that’s when it tightens its coils for maximum effect, so the rat can’t exhale. Causes the muscles inside the rat to go haywire with the pressure, too. The tail going nuts like that shows you when it’s happening. Ultimately, the rat suffocates.” Bixby winced, then took a deep, exaggerated breath, as if to reassure himself that he still could. “Now that
pulled the clothes from her body, pushed her down onto the mattress hard, stepped out of his boxers, knelt on the bed, hiked her legs up over his shoulders, and thrust inside her. She arched instantly, pushing her chin back and her throat up. He ran his lips and tongue along the soft skin of her neck, then bit, causing her to moan loudly and thrust up against him several times in rapid succession. She was beautiful, but he wasn’t going to be selfish. He wanted to feel good—and he would—but there
couldn’t name names. Padilla thanked him. “I’ll see you when we’re done.” “Okay.” Padilla turned around and headed for the barn. The other five were already seated around a makeshift table when he entered the room. Like most of the other places they’d met, this room was lit only by candles. He was instantly irritated because the attorney from the Ministry of Justice had taken one end seat and the Central Bank executive the other. Even more irritated when they both offered smug smiles when he