“Miss Sheraton Morgan, meet the young man who refused to bow to death. The one I told you I found lifeless at the edge of a lake after being viciously submerged a week ago.”
“Michael, meet the Production manager of Eric Cottage Winery Enterprise. The City's Goddess of Beauty,” he did the honors in the introduction as he arose with his face enthralled in smiles. The two faces stood still for over ten seconds with their eyes glued on each other in slow motion with words stuck in their throats. “Great Lord! He's the one!” Miss Sharon echoed in a gasp of shock; thick goosebumps shivered her shoulders. Lord Eric hastily cleared his throat and blinked a few times in silence. He was yet to make sense of what she meant by him ‘being the one.’ He was already struck in another unexpected puzzlement just like he hooked in confusion when the old herbal healer proclaimed Michael as ‘The one’ “I’m completely in the dark, have you two met beforehand?” he eagerly inquired with his eyes flickered with urgency. “Yes! He is the bold soul who saved me from the premeditated assassination a week ago. Remember the terrifying incident that nearly claimed my life on my way home from work?” She finally divulged with a hitch of breath as she couldn't believe she had crossed paths with her odd Samaritan once again. Michael narrowed his eyeballs, still in a dumbstruck state, accompanied by a somewhat sharp inhalation and exhalation. He could vividly remember the gorgeous damsel he risked his life for to halt the assassination plan. Lord Eric gasped in profound disbelief at how the unfolding situation was interwoven. The young man he earnestly prayed to survive the lake submerged incident was the same unknown bold soul who saved his company's human resource manager from being murdered. What more would unfold? Miss Sheraton Morgan charmingly moved her feet as the beauty personified that she was, with her alluring eyes fixated on the Young Lord while she calmly offered a warming embrace, which he reciprocated. “Thank you for saving my life, Michael Scofield. At least now I know your name,” she delightfully expressed as both shared a beaming gesture. “Great Lord, you haven't yet told me what business led your path to the Lake where I was condemned to death?” he politely gutted out, a question stuck in his lungs since Lord Eric opted to change his life. In response, he nodded his head and patted The Young Lord's shoulder, he wasn't entirely surprised by the question. He knew he'd someday open up about what really brought him to the cemetery that fateful day he found Michael Scofield. “I’ll tell you all you need to know on what business I had to execute on that fateful night but when the time is ripe. However, I need your help.” He clenched his forehead in confusion. “My help?... Huh?” his words somewhat stuttered as he wondered what he could possibly do for the wealthiest man in the Northern Hemisphere. “I invited Miss Sheraton because I want her to teach you all you need to know about Eric Cottage Winery Enterprise.” “A week ago, my business rivals tried to exterminate her after she refused the mouthwatering scheme to leak the secret behind Eric Cottage Winery's unique taste, but she blatantly refused, which led to her assassination plan, which would have affected the company’s engine room, if they had succeeded. Thanks to you Michael.” She intermittently stared at him and nodded in affirmation of what Lord Eric had just spilled. “Michael Scofield, I wouldn't have asked for your help if it wasn't necessary. I need you to become my eyes and ears. After the confession extracted from the apprehended assassins. We believe there are strategically positioned moles that have already infiltrated the company intending to divulge sensitive information to our rivals.” “I overheard the old healer in words about your sharp-witted mind that you employed in exposing the bad eggs at your former workplace. We need the same wittiness to help save Eric Cottage Winery Enterprise before our rivals succeed in flushing us from the business market.” He continued after a few moments of internalization. “While tracking discreetly in divulging the moles, you'd also learn about the winery business. A win-win.” “They won't know you're the inner source and link. In my abode, you're the Young Lord with access to whatever you need at your disposal, but outside, you’re undercover personnel and would pose as a freelance writer in my Winery company. That way, no one would easily suspect the counter plan in place.” Michael gradually swallowed in and beheld every ounce of seriousness etched on his face. He didn't need a soothsayer to enlighten him on how serious the situation had become. Miss Sheraon maintained a charming stare at him with her legs crossed with her voluptuous curves while she intermittently nodded her head in alignment with her boss's words thus far. “I accept the mission and would fish out the moles. After what you did for me. I wish nothing more but for the winery company to expand as the first to reckon with in over three continents,” his words enthralled Lord Eric and Miss Sharon, who admired how profoundly visionary the young, bold soul was. “...But before I embark on the undercover initiative. I have some people whom I must pay scornful visits to.” “...I have an unsettled business, it's long overdue…”“Boss; Miss Sheraton will be here for the scheduled meeting in ten minutes. She's called in already,” the secretary eloquently informed Barrister Frederick. “Good news! This would be the biggest deal of my legal career. I hope she doesn't change her mind.” It's been ninety-six hours since the last meeting about Michael's undercover plan, but strategically, it was payback o'clock and he must strike imperceptibly. Michael Scofield, amidst the undercover assignment, his mind has whirled on how to get back at his scornful foes, whom he vehemently believed sent five ruthless assassins to finish him up. ********** “My Heaven's! It's an honor to have you in my office. Age is impeccably suited for you. You look more gorgeous than the last time we met at the Gala Heritage Festival seven months ago. Always stunning like a new wine!” “The Goddess Beauty personified!” Barrister Frederick eulogized Miss Sheraton Morgan and reached out for a handshake with his teeth shining in elation.
They stared at him to let the cat out of the bag as time was of the essence. “... Marshall planned on proposing to Michelle on fortnight during the endorsement deal event…” he completely voiced out in a cracked tone. The fear of the unknown struck quivers down his buckled spine and all he could do was mumble pitiful prayers. “Interesting!” “Perfect timing!” “For your sake. Don't mention this beautiful meeting to your accomplices,” he chipped in, his words oozed dangerously. “In two weeks, we'll reconvene this conversation.” “However, on second thought?...” “What could have prompted y'all to call the shots for my extermination? You haven't told me why you guys contracted the assassins?” Barr. Fredrick nervously cleared his throat and darted his eyes in fear as he knew he hadn't yet revealed that one deep secret. “Get ready to spill the whole truth at the so-called proposal night…” *** Fortnight on the dot, Manchester City headlines exquisitely broadcasted the endo
“The rat race is finally over!” “On your knees! Your hands wrapped around your neck!” A menacing voice alarmed in a discordant baritone. “Spill your last prayers before we send you six feet underground.” “It's the end of the road!” Three vicious voices reverberated across the cold street with their faces etched with simmering rage. Their words ushered in moments of numbness, as a surge of tension ran through the victim’s vibrated veins. Without further ado, she silently obeyed and shut her eyes in mumbled prayers with her heart bleeding in alarming pain. Uncontrollable tears glued on her tender cheeks as her spines quivered in indescribable anguish. She didn't envisage her last moments would seem profoundly pitiful. The sky viciously rumbled, accompanied by a thick, darker cloud, which sent an explicit message of a soon heavy downpour about to hit the streets of Manchester City. “Please!” Her voice desperately gutted out. “Don't do this! I will triple whatever you wer
“Miss Sheraton, who was the young man that called us in?” one of the police officers inquired with his neck nudged for immediate feedback. She rolled her eyes in shunned perplexity. “I don't know who he is. I couldn't get hold of his name before he hastily exited.” She chimed in still entrapped in inward thoughts. “Whoever he is, I'm most grateful.” The cloud continually rumbled vigorously and it was only a matter of time for the City to feel the full aura of the grooming rain. Charleston Park Shopping Mall has been in the service business for over a decade. However, for the past twenty-four months, the Business enterprise has grown beyond expectation and has enormously attracted the likes of celebrities, wealthy juggernauts, and prominent personalities who often come to patronize. Remarkably, the Atlantic Showdown Enterprise has ranked Charleston Park Shopping Mall among the top five most successful large retail businesses across European shores. “Gosh! Michael Scofield!
Michael narrowed his eyes at his wife and muttered. “What do you mean by that?” but his reflective question resounded as continually exuded a cold gesture.He knew his wife hadn't truly been in love with him in their union which was contrary to how he felt. ‘Madam Cathrine would have simply displayed all these in private. Why show them off on the tenth anniversary? Could my wife be working alongside her?’ he uncontrollably questioned inwardly as their words formed a thick voice in his head.He could feel more was underway but was yet to wrap his head around what his mother-in-law planned to achieve from her inhumane public display in the past twenty minutes.“My confused husband of all wealthy successful men across European countries to give his beloved daughter in marriage. He ridiculously chose you. He picked, “I will be rich someday, dude!”“What a joke!” her words reverberated in cooked-up insults as though she specifically waited for the tenth anniversary to entirely unleash her
“Woo! Pregnant?”“She's pregnant?” irresistible questions sprung off among the elated guests.“Really? She is?” The hall was stormed with distinct and indistinct communication oozing from different corners filled with distinguished personnel from several walks of life.Michael Scofield muffled a heartbreaking chuckle that got his head spinning in disbelief.His wife's last words echoed like an alarming bell struck deep into his chest.“What more jokes do we have today?” he spilled with his eyeball bulging out in anguish.“A few minutes back, your mother got me fired, and the next action was publicly announcing a new suitor while you're still my wife and treacherously you're pregnant?” “What in heaven's name is going on tonight!” He heightened as he held grip of his saddened overwhelming emotions.His eyes gleamed for absolute answers as his heart tugged in reverberating heartache.His ears nudged for explicit feedback in silent prayer that all revelation thus far was a prank.He endea
Amidst the unprecedented disarrayed twist of Michael's epic response, a certain man in his late fifties sprinted through the back entrance of the hall and made his way toward the stage.“I’m… I'm sorry for being late. I had an emergency at the last second,” he managed to spill out while still catching his breath.He stared around the hall and beheld different faces in undefined countenances. “Why does everyone seem stunned?” “Where is Michael? Didn't he make it for the tenth anniversary?” he continually inquired as he drew closer to the Augustine family who were still rattled.Madam Catherine drew a breath with somewhat curved lips. “He just exited the hall… there's something weird about–” she was still in words when she hastily got interrupted.“I don't care whatever! Has he been divorced?” Barr. Frederick proactively expressed.“Yes… he has…although there was something strange about…” Michelle responded in a stuttering aura as she was unable to wrap her head around how her ex-husba
“Who sent you!” He screamed at the top of his lungs while he raced as two assassins audaciously sprinted towards him. After a few moments of not closing in on him due to how swiftly he paced, they returned to the moving van and zoomed toward him with one absolute mission; ‘Kill him!’ Within ten seconds in a marathon race to preserve his life, hot, dripping sweat engrossed his head as he could breathe the hotness of the thick air. He perceived no one could come to his rescue and the only option was to keep running till his legs failed him. The black van dangerously swerved towards his sprinting position, and before he could blink his eyelids, it viciously slammed him through. He uncontrollably fell across a field floor surrounded by thick bushes with his shoulders plunged against the wet grasses. He uncontrollably lost control while falling and somersaulted multiple times with his head persistently colliding against the thick bushes across the road a few miles from Manchester Cit