Thomas Bolton stayed silent and continued to look at his adopted son like he was a stranger. Richard in return tried his best too look at anywhere and anything else but him. "Leave me." Thomas said after a very long silence. "But father_" Richard started but stopped when Thomas slowly took a finger, placed it on his lip and breathed through his lips in a shush. "Careful how you use that word boy. You might be my son on paper but never fail to remember who you really are." Thomas said, stood to his feet and walked up to him. "An incapable bastard, who can't even make himself useful to his savior to show his gratitude," He whispered in his ear, with his palm on his shoulder. "Now, leave me while I figure out our next move to cover for your incapability" he said and walked away from him.Richard gritted his teeth really hard, till it felt like they would crack and with his fist clenched tight, he turned and walked away. He walked out, looked around at the guards and stormed off
Richard walked into the main dining hall to see Thomas already sitted composedly, calmly waiting for him. He walked up to the rather grand table in the middle of the room, and sat down on the chair at one end of the table, facing Thomas on the other end. When he had sat down and was now settled, Thomas picked up his knife and fork and began eating without a word and Richard calmly followed Thomas' lead. They ate in silence, with Thomas looking calm and composed, like he had no care in the world, while Richard was visibly tensed and took very little bites of the meal in front of him, even though the cook had done a splendid job. After a long silence, in which time they had almost finished their meals, Thomas put his cutlery down, wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin and sat back in his chair, and Richard quickly did the same."What exactly did Chris say to you?" Thomas asked."That he knew I don't owe any Mafia Lord money and I actually wasn't in need of money," Richard responded.
Chris Bolton lay stretched out on his bed, feeling bored. Things had been slow and unexciting these past few days. He had resumed his duties as the new CEO of a chain of multi billion companies and had spent the past few days visiting the different companies, familiarizing himself with their affairs, the workers and board members. He had sat in so many meetings, that he began to fear he would have hemorrhoids. He had visited almost fifteen complaints and from what his new official personal assistant, Melanie Jones told him, he still had many others to visit. Melanie Jones was his first real personal assistant who didn't double as a body guard. Apparently, she had been undergoing training for the job for years under his dad's own personal assistant, Mrs. Yvonne. So far, she had proven herself to be quite good and efficient at her job. She was good at organizing, keeping tabs, blending into the background when she wasn't needed and quietly ensuring Chris did what he had to do. It was li
"You know," Chris started as they rolled into the parking lot of the boxing gym, "for people with plans to give me a day similar to the ones I've been used to, you know, one with more excitement and adrenaline rush," he paused, "this is a really bad start," he finished."Huh?" Sarah asked and turned to look at him with a confused look on her face."I mean, I get it, you three are really good at what you do but only a newbie would be excited to watch you three take each other on," Chris said with a shrug."Who said anything about the three of us taking each other on?" Sarah asked with her nose scrunched up in confusion."What? You mean that's not the plan?" Chris asked.The three ladies didn't bother to respond to him this time as they got out of the car."Surely, none of you would be foolish enough to dare go up against this." Chris said with a smirk and flexed his muscles. The three ladies hid their smiles."Just shut up and see" Sarah said. They entered the gym and were
Chris was helped out of the boxing ring and made to sit for a while. Monica went away briefly and returned with a water bottle which she opened and handed to him, her face creased with worry. Rose stood a little distance away and watched the scene, trying but failing to hide her worry. She hadn't expected him to get knocked out so hard and she was worried about him and also about getting in trouble with Mr. Michael Bolton, he paid her to protect his son, not put him in harm's way. Sarah and Lucas stood at a corner, deep in conversation, both seemed unbothered about the situation, they had both been into this for years and both knew that Lucas' punch had done no real damage to Chris, he just hadn't been hit by a punch of that magnitude before. Rose knew this too but her sense of judgment was clouded with fear and worry. After a while, Chris got to his feet, with Monica still rooted to his side. The others turned to look at him and Lucas walked up to him."How's that jaw feeling pal?"
They walked into the arena and all thanks to Rose' excellence in planning and organizing, they were soon properly geared up; combat suit, body vests, goggles, padded collars, boots, gloves and knee and elbow pads. Then they proceeded to the field where they were given their paintball marker, paintballs, hopper, air tanks and pod packs. With everything set, Rose explained the rules to them as she paced. "It's quite simple actually, Sarah and I are teammates while Chris and Monica are teammates. Each team has their bases on the opposite ends of the field and the goal is to steal the other teams flag from their base and return to your base, without running out of lives." she said and paused. "Each player has three lives, in other words, get shot three times and you're out, only as a player though and not as a team. Are we good?" she asked then stopped her pacing and turned to face them. "Well?" she asked further when no one gave a response."Uhm, I guess?" Sarah spoke."Yeah, whatever"
It all came rushing back to him, kind of like a dam of memories had been broken free in his brain. Victor, his childhood trainer, the man in the picture, the baseball cap mystery man, the one who had appeared and disappeared during the death of Scuro Lancia's Don Martini; they were all one and the same person. How had he been so blind? It was still the same baseball cap from when he was just a little kid. He could still remember how Victor would walk up to him in the Sanders' back lawn, as he took off the baseball cap and his backpack, with the words "hey buddy," as he messed up his hair with a ruffle. He remembered how he always tried to squirm away from those ruffles and how Victor had always been faster and more agile than him, trapping him before he could move out of his reach. If the man in the picture was Victor and he had killed Scuro Lancia's Don Martini, then he certainly had not done it on his own accord. Someone must have been behind giving the order and making the required
The first beep of the alarm was enough to wake Richard up and without hesitation, he dismissed the alarm and immediately got to his feet. He hadn't been able to sleep a wink through out the night. Today was the day he had been waiting for, the day Thomas Bolton would officially announce him to the world as his son, but somehow, he didn't feel excited about it, he thought of it as another duty to be carried out. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't felt excited about it at all. He walked to the bathroom to begin his preparation. He brushed, shaved and had a bath. When he was done, he stared at his reflection in the mirror for a while and absent mindedly brushed the scar Thomas had created with his wine glass few days back, it had faded a lot thanks to balms and creams, it would take someone getting really close to notice it and he didn't plan on letting anyone into his space. He ran a hand through his now jet black hair, pleased with it, then he stepped into his room where his per