Chapter 9
last update2025-01-10 00:06:48

Logan stepped out of the cab, his gaze fixed on the van as it rolled into the compound. The logo Canon Forte stirred a sense of déjà vu, but the memory eluded him.

He couldn't help but wonder why he felt like he had seen that van before, but on a second thought, he waved off the feeling.

That van belonged to a top military organisation, and not an ordinary vehicle that one would see everyday. He felt he must have had too much to think about lately, and it was already making him imagine things.

He dismissed the thought for the moment, focusing on the task at hand. Jaime was already waiting by the gate, waving him over.

“You’re late,” Jaime said, glancing nervously at the van. “The boss is inside, and he’s not happy.”

Logan sighed. “I got caught up in something. What’s the big deal about these deliveries, anyway? They seem unusually secretive.”

According to recent reports, canon forte had become a target by government and other top law enforcement agencies after an event that had happened three years ago.

Rumour has it that some of the top military officials who were part of the operation which was tagged "Red Canon" were ambushed by an enemy force and several of them were killed.

When the media tried to probe onto the circumstances that had surrounded the outcome of the operation, top generals as well as notable politicians who held positions of authority swept everything under the carpet.

Most of the families who had lost a loved one during the operation were only compensated meagerly, and that was Joe nothing else was done about that whole Red Canon operation casualties.

Jaime lowered his voice, his eyes darting around to ensure no one was listening. “I overheard some of the higher-ups talking. This isn’t just any delivery—it’s big. And they don’t want any hiccups.”

“Big?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are we guarding here? Diamonds? Gold?”

If the boss had asked for security, Logan was almost certain that whatever it was that the van hed come to deliver wasn't just something ordinary.

Jaime shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. But whatever it is, it’s valuable enough to have the boss breathing down our necks.”

Logan nodded, his curiosity piqued. Together, they approached the loading dock, where the van had come to a halt. Several men in dark suits were unloading crates, their movements precise and coordinated.

Logan noticed their wary glances, as though they were trained to spot potential threats.

He didn't know what to think, but from the way the men were dressed, and the looks on their faces, Logan couldn't help but wonder if they were actually part of the military or just another notorious mafia organisation.

The boss, a stocky man in his fifties with a stern expression, emerged from the shadows.

“Logan,” he barked. “Glad you could finally join us. Keep an eye on those crates. No one gets near them, understood?”

“Understood,” Logan replied, though his mind was racing. Something about this operation didn’t sit right with him.

What could be on those crates, and why did Canon Forte a military van had to deliver them with men who were not looking like they belonged to the military being the ones who had escorted the van.

As the men continued unloading, Logan’s gaze lingered on one of the crates. It bore no markings, but the faint hum emanating from it was unmistakable. His instincts screamed at him that this was no ordinary delivery.

Just then, a faint vibration in his pocket reminded him of his phone. He discreetly pulled it out, finding another message, but the identity of the sender remained anonymous.

"Watch out, Logan. Your boss is up to no good,"

After reading the message, Logan was thrown into a sudden pool of deep thoughts as he couldn't help but wonder who this anonymous person was, and what he or she meant by the content of the message.

“Logan!” Jaime’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Stay alert, man. You’re zoning out.”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Logan muttered, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

_____

"There's no way you're marrying that man!" Rosalia voiced echoed through the room, as she expressed her disapproval over Sophia's choice.

"The you can consider having another daughter because there's no way I'm marrying Thompson." Sophia returned.

"That's enough!" Augusta Riven yelled. "There's no need to argue about this anymore. If Sophia wants to get married to that young man she had introduced to us earlier, then she has my consent,"

"M...m...mother..." Rosalia stuttered, surprised to hear the grand matriarch of the Riven family give her approval for Sophia to go ahead with the marriage.

"Is this some kind of joke?" She added, still grappling with the sudden change of her mother in-law's decision.

"No it's not Rosalia," Augusta replied. "I am an old woman already, and the last thing I want right now is to fight with my grandchildren over the choice of their spouses."

"But...."

"There are no buts, Rosalia," a wry smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Sophia too, couldn't hide her surprise wondering what had come over her grandma to have made suddenly change her mind and now giving her approval to let the marriage happen.

"Thank you so much, grandmother," she said, hugging her tightly.

"That's enough," Grandma Augusta said, as she pulled away from the embrace.

Sophia, without saying anything to her mother, left the room happy not because she was really glad that she was getting married to Logan, but because she wouldn't be getting married to Thompson.

"What just happened?" Rosalia asked, the moment Sophia stepped out of the room.

"I know what I'm doing daughter," Grandma Augusta smiled.

"And what could that be?" Rosalia asked, still not satisfied with Augusta's decision.

"We'll let the marriage happen and turn that pig to a servant. He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into,"

"Hmmmmm," Rosalia sighed.

"We are about to get another servant into the Riven family." Augusta added, her wicked smile widening.

"What about Thompson? What do we do about him?"

"Leave that to me,"

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