The car's tires screeched as Mr. Philips swerved to the side of the road, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt stop. They had arrived in Spain for their very mission and they were already on their way to the University of Seville. There was no security men following them, they were in casual clothes and the car they were driving had no unique plate number like Nicholas's cars would. All this was to arouse suspicion, as it was now clear that they were being trailed by the RMI. Mr. Philips who was sitting in the driver's seat, glanced over his shoulder at Gnits and Niçholas in the back. "Why did you ask me to stop here?" Mr. Philips asked, his eyes fixed on Nicholas. Nicholas held up a hand, his gaze locked on the phone in his other hand. "I just got a message from Malakai." Gnits and Mr. Philips eyes dilated in surprise as they both exclaimed simultaneously, "Malakai!? What does it say?" "Yes, Malakai," Nicholas nodded. "But I'm waiting for it to load."
The jet's wheels touched down onto the lush lawn of the Loughty mansion, kicking up a flurry of freshly cut grass. A group of armed guards stood at the ready, their expressions stoic and unwavering as the aircraft came to a complete stop. They had been flying for over four hours. The mood was somber, the darkness of the night casting long shadows across the estate, causing the dew-kissed blades to glitter like a million tiny diamonds. Michos, his hands bound behind his back, was roughly yanked from his seat by Mr. Philips, his grip unyielding as he ushered the captive forward. "Move!" he growled, his voice low and menacing. Nicholas, Gnits, and Mr. Philips emerged from the jet, their faces etched with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. The guards immediately converged, surrounding Michos and removing the blindfold that had been obscuring his vision. "Take him," Mr. Philips barked, shoving Michos towards the waiting guards. "You know where to put h
"Keep Michos in the blue chamber, he is not allowed to leave. No matter what he says, do not open the door for him. He is very dangerous and manipulative, so you don't want to fall for any of his pranks." Mr. Philips had explained to the guards before they left for the Avendanos villa. The gleaming silver Bentley glided smoothly through the ornate wrought-iron gates of the Avendanos' sprawling estate, its polished exterior reflecting the warm glow of the street lamps that illuminated the winding driveway. Behind it, a convoy of seven sleek black SUVs followed suit, their tinted windows casting an ominous shadow over the otherwise picturesque scene. As the car rolled to a stop before the mansion, an air of anticipation hung thick in the evening air. The residents of the Avendano estate, accustomed to the occasional display of wealth and influence, watched with curiosity as the passenger door opened, and Nicholas emerged, his usually composed demeanor tinged with an u
The phone slipped from Nicholas's hand, clattering to the floor of the car as he exchanged bewildered glances with Gnits and Philips, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Was that truly Theresa's voice? Of course it was, they were able to recognize the voice. Loud and clear, but how was that possible? Everyone was at Theresa's funeral and even if she was alive, why was Malakai just telling them about it for the first time? As the car continued its journey along the darkened road, the silence was eventually broken by Nicholas's uncertain voice. He just couldn't for once stop thinking about it, "Could Malakai be telling the truth?" Gnits, his expression a reflection of the turmoil within, responded cautiously. "We.. We just heard Theresa's voice on the phone. So... she... she... she's definitely not dead, and she's been with Malakai all this time." Philips, his brow creased with deep contemplation, let out a weighty sigh. "But does that mean Malakai has been holdin
"Fuck 'em!" Malakai said, sliding his phone down the desk as he leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, propping his polished black boots up on the ornate mahogany desk. The spacious office was dimly lit, the warm glow of a single table lamp casting shadows across the fine furnishings. He took a long, slow drag from the cigarette clenched between his fingers, the end glowing ember-red as he exhaled a plume of smoke through his nose. The silence was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Malakai didn't look up, simply drawling in his deep, gravelly voice, "Come in." The door creaked open, and a young man in a crisp black suit poked his head inside, bowing deferentially. "What do you want?" Malakai asked. "Sir, there is a lady here to see you." The young man replies quickly. Malakai gulped down the cup of alcohol which burned down his throat, "Who is she?" he asked. "We have been asking her what her name is, but she refuses to reveal her ide
Malakai had barely settled back into his chair when the door to his office burst open once more. This time, it was Kreo, one of his most trusted men, working directly with him, who came rushing in. The young man's face was pale, his eyes wide with panic. With his expression, you could tell someone was wrong. "Master Malakai," Kreo gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "Kreo? Why would you burst in that way?" Malakai frowned in confusion. "It's... it's Michos." Kreo stuttered. Malakai's brow furrowed, a sense of dread coiling in the pit of his stomach. "What about him? What is wrong with Michos?" "He is... he is missing," Kreo stammered. "Wait, what? How is tha possible? He can't be missing... When was the last time I spoke with him?" "Well, I just received this information from his team. According to them, they have been searching for the past three days, but there's been no sign of him." Malakai felt the blood drain from his face, his heart lurc
Nicholas stepped out of his room, the weight of everything he had been facing and would be facing heavy on his shoulders. As he made his way towards the stairs, ready to start the new day with a new challenge which was of course, very inevitable, his phone suddenly started ringing. He paused, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the device. Glancing down at the screen, his brow furrowed as he recognized India's name displayed. He blinked his eyes to confirm if it was truly India. Without hesitation, he answered the call, his voice tinged with trepidation as he wondered what could be the reason for her unexpected contact this time around. It seemed this lady was hell-bent on this divorce thingy. "India," he said, his tone cautious. He was trying to stay as composed as possible. "G... good morning. Why... why are you calling so early this morning? Is there a problem?" Nicholas braced himself, expecting the familiar sound of India's frustration, perhaps even anger, as they continued t
The small, dimly lit room felt stifling, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken worry. Malakai sat on the worn couch, his fingers trembling as he grasped the bottle of red liquid, pouring himself a full cup. Without hesitation, he gulped it down, the fiery alcohol burning his throat, providing a momentary respite from the anguish that consumed him. He wanted more, just more and more. He didn't want to stop. That was the only thing that could relieves him of the pain he was going through. Across from him, the three older men – Wraith, Raven, and Vritt – exchanged concerned glances, their brows furrowed with a mixture of empathy and trepidation. If Malakai finished this bottle of alcohol, that would make it the seven bottle he'd been drinking within an hour. Wraith, his face etched with a solemn expression, leaned forward, his gaze locked with Malakai's. "Malakai, you've been drinking too much. I must advise you to stop now. Those are too much, that's like seven bottle now. You do