"Mr. Mark, I don't understand; there seems to have been a mistake. The Davis John in jail is not the Davis John that we know. In fact, Aleksandr Ivanov is Davis John. What is going on? I need to check into this. Give me a moment, Mr...""We might have already known what went wrong, Commissioner. Allow Mrs. Isabella here to narrate it to you, as she did to us," Ethan said.Even though Isabella had a smirk on her face, the way Ethan addressed her as Mrs. Isabella was like a thorn in her skin. However, she ignored it and only spoke because the cellphone had been placed closer to her."Davis John is Aleksandr Ivanov. He was released from jail with the help of some corrupt jailers. They aided in switching their places, allowing him to come out.""Are you sure of what you just said, Mrs. Isabella?" The commissioner asked."You know very well that if this information is wrong, it is a crime, right?" The commissioner asked again."Do I look like a mother who wants her daughter's life to be at
With Mr. Smith's military skills, he was able to decipher something immediately."He is not among us, yet he is able to see us. He is not among us, yet he is able to hear our conversation."Quickly, he sprang into action and walked out from behind Ethan.At this moment, Ethan said nothing because Mr. Smith had already signaled to him, and right there, Isabella also followed suit.Either way, it did not mean Alexa would not say anything in Isabella’s ear."We must have misjudged Davis, Isabella. I think it will get pretty tense in here any minute.""Shhh," Isabella cautioned in a whisper; either way, it did not mean that Ethan or Mr. Smith did not hear her.Now, looking at her closely, something seemed odd about her. Mr. Smith couldn't fathom why she was still wearing the earpiece even when she was speaking to them, and they were close to her, even in the same living room."Are you working together with him?" Mr. Smith asked immediately.As he asked, Ethan turned to look at Isabella, b
Even before anything else, Mr. Smith detected something different from the last time the Ninjas of Assassination Missions attacked them.The last time, they were using scarves to conceal their identities, armed with different long guns, and only one of them wielded the deadly Japanese sword.But this time, they were completely different. Aside from wearing the same black attire as before, this time they didn't cover their faces with scarves; instead, they wore masks.Each of the Ninjas held a pistol in their left hand, and in their right, they all brandished deadly Japanese swords.With each shot fired by Ethan Mark's guards under the instruction of Guard 3, who maintained a strategic position at the gate and also outside in the compound, the Ninjas of Assassination Missions deftly blocked each bullet, as if they could see them coming.None of the Ninjas of Assassination missions had been successfully hit, not even in the arms or ankles to disable their movement, unlike the last time.
Landing on the ground like an aircraft, the ninja stepped out of thin air. With strength and precision, he crafted his hands and legs into his swordsmanship stance like a master calligrapher composing an intricate brushstroke.Mr. Smith understood the gravity of the situation. He knew that the ninja was prepared to engage in a sword fight, and he was acutely aware of the devastating consequences if the ninja's blade made contact with him."If he manages to cut me, the poison will fester and won't be curable," Mr. Smith whispered to himself. "It's a trap," he muted to himself as he watched the ninja standing ready to attack him.The moment he muttered these words, he rose from the ground, and, with the ninja poised for a fight, Mr. Smith pointed his gun at him like a sentinel guarding the gates of a fortress, unwavering and resolute."Step any closer, and I'll blow your head off," declared Mr. Smith. However, this didn't guarantee that the ninja would heed his warning. as he already kn
Pushing Davis John away and escorting him into their armored van, the SWAT team, including the commissioner, had departed. Ethan then inquired, "How many men did we lose, Mr. Smith?""Five, Master Mark," Mr. Smith replied."Send word to their families and invite them for a proper burial," Ethan instructed, his face marked with a tinge of sadness. He turned and walked back into the mansion.As he turned, Isabella also attempted to follow him into the mansion, but if she was able to do so was a lie.Suddenly, Mr. Smith used his arm to block her path. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and nonchalant.Isabella looked at him, her feelings filled with nothing but resentment toward what Mr. Smith had just done and she said, "Out of my way!"Nevertheless, even though Ethan was aware of what had happened, it had been under his signal that Mr. Smith had acted, and thus, he let him handle the situation as he saw fit.At this moment, even after hearing Isabella's words,
As soon as Isabella arrived in the hotel room she had booked, she placed her fancy bag on the bed, her cellphone beside it, and went for a refreshing shower. When she returned, she was wearing only a cool towel, with her wet hair, and thus, she sat down on the bed like a shimmering mermaid emerging from the ocean's depths.She reached into her fancy bag and retrieved her newly acquired pistol. When her eyes fell upon the pistol, she immediately thought of Elara and decided to ask Alexa what she was up to."Alexa, what about the stupid reporter Elara Whitehead?""Oh! Ex-reporter Elara? Our plan worked," Alexa said."Really?" Isabella asked."Yes, really, Isabella. Our plan was a success. Her landlord, just as planned, evicted her without waiting, and the secretary of the hotel she booked closer to Havenbrook sent her away. Now she's faced with a bigger problem, and she's too busy to chase after you. By the time she's ready, you will have gained Ethan's trust and used your power against
"No, Isabella, you've got it wrong. I just told you it's not regulated by a bank or the government," Alexa said."Oh! You did?" Isabella asked."Who regulates it then?" Isabella asked again."I just said transactions are recorded on a public ledger called a blockchain. You know what, just forget it. You're never going to catch up with how these things work, but you can catch up with how I will run this.""Oh!" Isabella sounded, and Alexa continued talking, her voice filled with a somber tone as she unraveled more of the secret tale."You see, in this part of the country, only the youth and teenagers are conversant with digital currency, but the adults, they aren't as knowledgeable. This works in our favor because it positions us as the alpha players in this game, and we are unlikely to get caught, even for the slightest oversight on our part," Alexa began."If we could hack into the online wallet of one of the youths who have too much digital money, we could become wealthy overnight.
"I didn’t know Mr. Adams had such a dark past," Isabella said."Everybody has a secret they are keeping. I told you this before. So, do not be that surprised," Alexa said, casting her words like pearls of wisdom before the curious swine of uncertainty."Why don’t you change into a beautiful dress and allow me to do that transaction? It will only take me a few minutes to complete, and you can get food to eat," Alexa said, her words flowing as smoothly as a river over polished stones, carrying the promise of a seamless transition.Just as Alexa said, Isabella rose to her feet slowly and scanned her eyes for the perfect dress to wear.In this way, she finally wore a stunning, floor-length emerald-green gown that flowed gracefully as she moved. The dress was adorned with intricate lace detailing along the bodice and sleeves, adding an elegant touch to her attire.Also, to complement her outfit, she chose a pair of silver stiletto heels that sparkled in the soft evening light."I am ready,
Pushing her back into her prison cell like a reluctant pawn being returned to its square on a chessboard, Isabella fell on the prison floor, resembling a fragile autumn leaf descending with a surrender to the inevitable embrace of the cold, hard ground. No matter how her voice had risen in anger towards her mother in the meeting room, she knew very well that she wanted to read the contents of the letter in the envelope and discover the help Ethan Mark had promised her. "Would he file for my release?" "Has he bought me a home as a sign of my forgiveness?" "Would he take me back as his wife?" Different questions rushed through her mind like a tumultuous river, each query cascading over the other. As she held the envelope in her hand, she sat at the corner of her cell and stared at it much more closely. In this way, she saw that the surface of the envelope bore a faint trace of handling, like a blank canvas marked only by the weight of the untold. She also observed the edges, crisp
As Isabella saw her mother through the glass panel, her eyes first peered at her face, which was fresh and glowing like a sun-kissing morning, radiating warmth and vitality. Similarly, she observed her hair, cascading strands of silk, flowing effortlessly, resembling a gentle waterfall gracing a serene landscape.But if that were all, it would be a lie. She also noticed her dress, which was as beautiful as a field of blooming flowers, each petal a vibrant hue, creating a tapestry of elegance. Likewise, her neck, ears, and wrists were adorned with jewelry, resembling constellations adorning the night sky, each piece a sparkling star in the galaxy of her elegance.Taking in this perfect image of her mother, the thought immediately struck Isabella that her mother's current appearance was the complete inverse of hers—a mess in a uniform and in a confined space, akin to a wildflower struggling to bloom in a cramped garden bed."Been a while," Victoria Sinclair said again, immediately as Is
Like a fish forced to live in the desert for the crime she had committed, Isabella's prison days wove a bleak tapestry of monotony and despair. The cold, unforgiving reality of prison life left her yearning for freedom, with each passing moment feeling like an eternity. The absence of familiar faces and the pervasive loneliness created a profound sense of desolation that permeated every aspect of her existence.Most especially, the daily beatings from her tormentor, Elara Whitewind, resembled an unrelenting storm, leaving Isabella's spirit battered and broken, akin to a shipwreck in the tempest of her despair. This was the reason she wished she had never set foot in the prison yard, mess hall, or communal bathroom ever again.However, whether she wished to visit those places or not, prison protocol had to be followed, leaving her no choice but to be present even in the devil's face if the protocol demanded it.In the dimly lit mess hall, clattering trays and hushed conversations fille
Ethan said nothing in response to Mr. Alexander's words. Instead, as if he hadn't heard him, he seized a seat on the other side of the table and crossed his left leg over his right.Yet, this did not mean he spoke at this moment. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table, as if he were playing an invisible piano.In this manner, Ethan Mark exuded authority. Gazing calmly from Mr. Alexander's feet to the tangled mess of hair atop his head, he looked at him. With a serenity akin to the gentle flow of the Nile and a voice as soft as a satisfied dove contemplating a defeated jungle lion, he suddenly spoke."Kneel and apologize."Upon hearing these words, Mr. Alexander's eyes widened in shock. He never anticipated a day when he would be asked to kneel and beg for mercy, especially from the person he had always regarded as a poor bastard.Like an enslaved cat in the presence of a lion, Mr. Alexander fell to his knees as Ethan Mark instructed, pleading, "I was a ter
Seeing how bold, tall, and dangerous this prisoner appeared and observing his audacious manner of poking at him was akin to witnessing a prowling lion, confident in its dominance, taunting its prey before the impending strike. Mr. Alexander then immediately turned his back, attempting to escape from this menacing part of the communal bathroom like a startled deer seeking refuge from the looming threat in the dark forest. "I have to run," he muttered in total fright, his voice a tremor in the echoing silence, like a desperate whisper carried away by the chilling wind of impending danger. However, if his intention was for success, it was a futile hope. "And where do you think you are running to, huh?" Another prisoner said this behind him and pushed him forward like a pawn on the unforgiving chessboard of the prison's power dynamics. As Mr. Alexander was pushed forward, he witnessed how the older prisoners immediately surrounded him. He also noticed how they revealed smirks on their c
After speaking for hours, the man who had conversed with him advised Mr. Alexander to get some sleep. He emphasized the importance of having alert eyes to observe any unfortunate events that might occur in the morning. And with that, Mr. Alexander retreated to the corner of his cell once again, burying his head in his ankle like a ship seeking refuge in the harbor of solitude, sheltering itself from the tempest of the prison's harsh reality. He sat on the ground, succumbing to a haunted sleep. *** The next morning revealed Mr. Alexander as a mere specter of resilience, marked by the weariness of a night spent in the clutches of haunted dreams, like a tattered flag fluttering weakly after enduring the relentless storm of a sleepless night. His eyes, burdened with unrest, betrayed the toll of his surroundings. Disheveled strands of hair clung to his forehead, bearing witness to the restless hours entangled in unsettling dreams. As he rose from the dark corner of his cell, his eyes fir
"Long story, man," the man answered. However, if this was all he said, it was a lie. He began to unravel his own narrative, detailing how his legs became amputated and one of his hands irreparably broken and dislocated."You see, I entered this prison as a healthy man. My crimes weren't that significant. I robbed a bank because I couldn't bear to watch my daughter suffer. We hadn't eaten for days, and robbing the bank seemed like my only option." He took a deep sigh and continued talking."Yes, you guessed right. The mission was unsuccessful, and before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the police. I had no guns, only a knife and a dagger. I never headed to the vault but collected pieces from each person I encountered in the bank. I just wanted to be able to feed my daughter and move on with life the next day.""While being surrounded, there was nothing more I could do than raise my hands in the air and let the police apprehend me. God knows it was the biggest mistake I ever m
Arriving at the prison, Mr. Alexander saw how the prison walls were imposing, resembling a fortress of despair that stood as a testament to the shadows of society. Certainly, he shook his head in regret, as he had never been to a place this horrible before.He observed cold steel bars, like sentinels of incarceration, confining notorious men whose stories were etched in the graffiti of hardened souls. Similarly, he noticed how the air hung heavy with the weight of regret, whispers of past misdeeds echoing through the dimly lit corridors.The sounds of his handcuffs tucked in chains down to his ankle made obvious sounds as he was escorted through the corridor harboring the cells of different notorious men by two prison officers whose faces lacked smiles, as if they hadn't smiled for many notorious years. Hence, he saw individuals behind these cells harboring untold secrets with their unappealing faces and frightful behaviors.Upon witnessing him and the others being escorted to their r
“Detective Sharon, we would love to ask you a few questions if you do not mind. We are sure this would help the public understand more of what is going on,” one reporter said immediately. “Alright, please go ahead. If this would help the general public understand more of what is going on, “Thank you, Detective Sharon. Now that Mr. Alexander, Mr. X, and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to lengthy prison terms, and Attorney Reynolds is awaiting the outcome of his investigation before he is sentenced, do you think that would be the end of this deadly organization?” “Yes, Mr. X. Mr. Alexander Rosewood and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to prison for a very long term, and if care is not taken, for life imprisonment. However, this is not the end of the organization. As you might already know, the deadly organization is a large organization that has penetrated every sector, which could even include the police, the prison officers, the legal system, and many more, which could even i