Mr. Billing watched with intent as the ladies were telling Griffith something but it seemed as if they were still whispering. It seemed like what they were telling Griffith was for his ears alone and not for any other person.Their conversation soon transitioned into a murmur of voices as they whispered words with a flow of urgency and a whisper of secrecy.Mr. Billing remained patient and thought that it was nothing. After all, when did Griffith’s private affairs start becoming his problem? He asked himself before laying back on his bed but checking the wall clock to determine the time he was going to leave the hospital and Mr. Griffith’s whole residence.Almost 10 minutes had passed and they were still whispering words to each other. He wondered what was going on and this time his curiosity was heightened like never before. Mr. Billing's fingers dropped with an inquisitive tap of speculation. He noticed that one of the ladies talking to Griffith was intentionally backing him as if
“Wine, beverages, and building materials,” Mr. Billing responded. “These are our major sources of profit and Alan knowing that our consumers are basically the same decided to sell the same products that we do. Why can't he just f**k off? Why does he have to always show that he is some important personality?”“I think he just wants people to change the perception around him but what he doesn't know is that he is my errand boy and even though he somehow became a wealthy figure, his roots remain as someone who is rejected. I will do anything to make him crumble at my feet.”The reality of his daughter, Rose being dead crashed into Mr. Billing again and his face contorted with a desire for vengeance.“Yihaaaaah!” He groaned loudly again, his voice loud with pain and agony as he punched his fist to the wall.PAOH!With a ferocious roar, Mr. Billing unleashed fury on the wall close to him with a powerful blow that shattered the wall, forming a huge hole in between.The punch was so hard tha
Alan got to his office the next day in low spirits. His countenance was very dampened and there were a lot of things that he left halfway done. That was very unlike him because he liked to pay attention to every little detail. But things felt different that day. He couldn't help but think about Rose and how she died at the hands of Mr. Lawrence. Perhaps things would have been different if she had maintained a more quiet composure.Even though Mr. Lawrence was jealous about the fact that he couldn't stop Rose from tilting towards Alan and choosing him over himself, he couldn't have given her another chance and not killed her based on the illusion that he was married to her.Perhaps if that illusion had sold out to Mr. Lawrence, Rose would not have died. Alan recalled how Rose blurted out Mr. Lawrence’s secret before she died. The experience was a haunting echo that played in Alan’s mind like a never-ending movie marathon.The way Rose wasn't afraid of death as long as she told the pe
That would only mean that the boy was the one with Rose inside the elevator. If that was also true, then that would mean that the boy, whatever his name was, would be the one who told Rose about all the secrets that she knew.Alan’s brain swelled in a twitch of realization as his guts told him that there was no way that Rose would have known about Mr. Lawrence’s secrets if she had not made some friendship with his son.His son must have known some things that no one else knows and he must have told Rose about it, Alan thought. Or could Rose have known those secrets herself? Could she have discovered the truth about Mr. Lawrence herself?Whatever the truth was, Alan swore in his mind that he was going to uncover it and use it against Mr. Lawrence.But his muscles were feeling a little tight and he felt a need to take a run.He looked through the window and he saw that the hint of dawn was still over the horizon as the air was chilly and still. It wasn't 6:00 am yet and he felt that he
It was a signal for Alan to know that there were going to be problems and that he had to be ready for them.Meanwhile, Alan was an immovable fortress as he defied the threats and challenges with a stoic resolve. His jaw was lined in a defying manner and his eyes were blazing with anger as he took a glance at the four men as if he was going to eat them raw at any moment.“I am giving you the benefit of the doubt and that is why I haven't lost my patience yet,” Alan spoke with the conviction of a dangerous man. “Who sent you?”“You have forgotten so soon haven't you?” Palacios asked, his response tinged with a brutal grimace of rage.“You are not so important to have even a little space in my memory from what I can see so far,” Alan defied, his jaw set in an audacious angle of bravery. “I suggest you tell me whose puppets the four of you are before it gets too late.”Alan’s words dripped with a venomous slither of insult as Palacios took a step back, his teeth gritted in anger but he he
Alan’s face twisted into a smirk. “If at all there was a question there, I think you answered it yourself. You were an easy prey and that was why we went for you. I don't deny that - it is true. I think that shows how much of a weakling you guys are. With your leader still rotting in prison, I wonder if you guys still have a group or what you now have is a bunch of scattered animals.”Torstain, Palacios, and Khartoum had a collective rage written on their faces that was a tide of venomous hatred. Their faces were twisted in disdain as they wondered if the person they wanted to descend on was the same person who had the guts to talk back to them.Khartoum wondered why Palacios who was the leader of the trio was hesitant to give the go-ahead to descend on Alan with punches till Alan himself wouldn't recognize his face anymore due to the hits.Khartoum was already salivating in anticipation of how bloody it was going to be when they finally rained him with assault of punches. “Chief, wh
Alan tried to cover his face and use it as a protective shield against the punches that were directed toward his jaws but they proved to be futile especially since he was squared up against three heftly men. It was never going to be a fair fight after all.Alan crumpled to the ground at the devastating effect of the punches. His hands grasped his jaw in a deadly grip of pain and his body was writhing in a twist of agony. All he wanted was to go to the gym and relieve himself of the sad thoughts that he was having as a result of Rose’s murder but there he was writhing in pain at the effect of punches from a group of thugs.Everyone else at the gym didn't interfere with the assault that was going on as they all kept their faces away from the event. It was evident that there was fear in their hearts and they didn't want to get some stick for doing what they would have regretted.Khartoum picked up a pocket knife and sliced Alan’s wrist in a burst of aggression before destroying his face
Just as Khartoum was pointing the gun at Radcliffe, his eyes narrowed with suspicion, and his awareness was heightened toward a shadow crawling behind a treadmill.He was sure of what he saw - it wasn't a shadow but a person, Khartoum thought. “Hey! Hey! There is a b***ard here trying to make a phone call!” Khartoum yelled desperately, his voice was an invitation of urgency.Khartoum darted quickly towards the figure behind the treadmill and he was right - it was one of the men who came to the gym. His hands were fastened to his phone screen and he was about putting his phone back into his pocket when Khartoum caught him.Khartoum gritted his teeth with anger and dragged the young man by his hair with a ferocious scrape of hostility before putting him out in the open so that his other gang members could see.“You think you are wise right?” Torstein asked, his voice tinged with a bombardment of interrogation. “Who the hell did you call?”Before the young man could catch his breath or