The tension in the car was palpable as Raylan sat in the backseat next to Nicholas, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and apprehension. He tried to maintain an outward appearance of calm, but inside, his mind was racing, desperately searching for a way to escape this perilous situation. Beside him, Nicholas sat quietly, his stern gaze fixed ahead as Michos navigated the car through the winding roads. Raylan could feel the weight of the gun tucked into Nicholas's waistband. He knew that any sudden movement or attempt to flee would likely result in a bullet tearing through his flesh, and the mere thought of it made his stomach churn. Raylan's mind raced, desperately trying to devise an escape plan, but the threat of being shot down kept him rooted to the spot. He wanted to open the door of the car and just jumped out while the car was in motion. He knew it was dangerous and could even cost him his life but he still wanted to do it. However, he knew how fast Niçhol
The car's tires crunched against the gravel as Michos pressed firmly on the brake, bringing the vehicle to a gradual halt. Raylan's heart pounded in his chest as he leaned forward, peering intently through the windshield towards the towering structure in the distance. "Michos, you should stop the car already, you should move any further," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're almost at Creole, and I can't risk the guards hearing us approach." Michos twisted in his seat, his brow furrowed with concern. "Why, Raylan? What's the problem? You can see there is no building around us," he asked, his gaze shifting anxiously between the road ahead and Raylan's anxious expression. Raylan took a steadying breath. "Yeah, there is no building around and that is just for deceit. If the guards catch wind of our arrival, it could jeopardize everything," he explained. "We need to be as stealthy as possible." "Yeah, I think Raylan is right. We shouldn't alert them,
One of the guards stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with undisguised annoyance and anger. "Who are you?" he demanded, his gruff voice cutting through the tense silence. Without a hint of fear, Nicholas calmly dipped his hand into his pocket, extracting a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With unhurried movements, he placed a cigarette between his lips and flicked the lighter, the flame dancing as he drew a deep, steadying breath. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he fixed the guard with an even stare. "I.... am Nicholas Loughty," he replied evenly. At the mention of his name, the guards' eyes widened in shock. They exchanged startled glances, the tension palpable. They couldn't believe their ears. Same Niçholas Loughty? They all stood frozen, not knowing what to say or how to react. How did Niçholas know about this Creole place in the first place? Finally, one of them spoke up, his tone almost drawling in disbelief. "Are you... Nicholas Loughty? Of the Royal Group? Lord
Nicholas stepped out of the bathroom, the steam from his warm shower still clinging to his skin. He briskly dried himself with a soft towel, relishing the comfort against his chilled flesh. Glancing out the window, he couldn't help but smile at the brilliant sunlight that bathed his room, a stark contrast to the gloomy weather that had plagued the city for the past few weeks. "Finally, summer is here," he murmured to himself, a sense of relief and anticipation washing over him. The past several weeks had been a whirlwind, both personally and professionally, and Nicholas was more than ready for a much-needed respite. Crossing the room, he opened the doors of the closet, his eyes scanning the neatly organized array of shirts, trousers, and suits. Selecting a striped ash-colored shirt and a pair of black trousers, he laid them gently on the bed, his movements unhurried and deliberate. Just as he was about to start dressing up, a familiar vibration broke the
Nicholas sat composed at the beautifully decorated table, the ornate gold and crystal décor of the five-star restaurant glittering around him. An array of delectable delicacies adorned the table - tender grilled meats, fresh seafood, artfully crafted desserts, and bottles of the finest vintage wines. Perfect set up for a VIP. He checked his wristwatch once more, the hands now indicating it had been over thirty minutes since he first arrived and took his seat. Where was India? Nicholas tried to tamp down the growing anxiety creeping up within him. This was meant to be a special evening, a chance for them to finally work through the issues that had been steadily driving a wedge between them. He had booked this private alcove, carefully selected India's favorite dishes, and even had a bouquet of her preferred lilies waiting on the table. Everything was set, but her absence left an unsettling void. Maybe she just lead him on to believe she had agreed. “No! She won't do
India's smile widened as Nicholas made that statement, and she let out a genuine laugh, the sound music to Nicholas's ears. "I really did miss the way your lips tasted," she admitted, her eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth. Nicholas felt a surge of relief wash over him, and he chuckled softly. "And I missed you too, my love. I missed everything about you and that's why I want to have you back," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw. India sighed, her gaze drifting down to the glass of wine she had abruptly set down earlier. Picking it up, she took a sip, savoring the rich, robust flavor. “Does that mean you've forgiven me, my love?” Niçholas asked as he saw India's face was now relaxed. "I'll give you one last chance, Nicholas," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Nicholas felt a broad, triumphant smile spread across his face. "I promise I'll never make the same mistake again, India," he said, his heart swelling with joy. "N
"They are complete now! These are the ones on duty that night," the head guard reported, saluting as he stopped in front of Nicholas. The air in the lounge was thick with tension as Nicholas sat on the plush sofa, his fingers drumming anxiously on the armrest. A tumbler of amber liquid sat on the table before him, untouched for now, its golden hue glinting under the warm light. Across from him, Michos perched on the edge of a matching chair, his posture tense and alert. He was looking nervous, restless and uncomfortable. One could tell that something was going on in his mind, with the serious expression worn on his face. The entire security team that was on night duty two days ago all stood quietly on front of Nicholas, their gazes fixed straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to the unease permeating the room. They didn't know what was going on, but for Niçholas to have summon all of them, there must have been a problem. Nicholas exhaled a heavy sigh and reached for the tumbler, s
Michos fell silent, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, he spoke, his voice hesitant. "Well, if they actually did follow my path, Malakai can only send three people, as they are the only ones skilled enough to sneak in undetected. They are the people we used for such task." Nicholas raised his eyebrows, his interest piqued. "And who might those three be?" "Trish, Raylan, or North," Michos replied, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But it can't be Trish or Raylan – Raylan doesn't work for the RMI anymore, plus he is now in prison and didn't you even shoot him in the leg? Also, Trish is a woman... She doesn't know on tasks like this." Nicholas nodded, his mind racing. "That means North was the one only person they could have sent. North was the one who came here." Michos shook his head, a rueful chuckle escaping his lips. "No, actually. We can't be very sure. Malakai could have employed more people to carry out the task. He never runs out of employees. What if North is d