Arnold got an adrenaline thrill from seeing blood ooze from Lucas's lips. He welcomed the opportunity, and the rush that coursed through him as he delivered punch after punch to his friend-turned-foe was terrific. This was nothing compared to the joy he felt after killing Kein. This one was truly unique. It wasn't only a sense of accomplishment or pride. Instead, it was an overpowering exhilaration that he couldn't get enough of. Damn! He'd been planning this for a long time, how he'd thrashed the man who'd made him a laughingstock months before. The same man he'd once called his best friend but now despised like a disease—the man who gave him more pain than any other human being, who made him feel so empty inside that he felt it would last forever. Like an empty cavity with no way to fill it with whatever filled the gap, but fortunately for Arnold, he'd gotten past what Lucas had done to him. But he was still enraged. Rage and anguish were coursing through him, but there was somet
Days later, Lucas lay in bed, his bruised and battered body a continuous reminder of his fight with Arnold at the restaurant. The bruises, on the other hand, were healing and not quite as awful as the broken fingers and bones he'd endured or the lacerations that covered him from his legs to his neck, but they were a stinging reminder of what he'd gone through. His face was also bruised, the skin breaking open on one cheek where a blow had struck in a fit of wrath. That punch was what knocked him out that fateful day. He'd also lost a tooth, and Lucas couldn't help but wonder how much more he'd lost if Arnold hadn't let go of him when he did. Damn! Every time he closed his eyes, he was reminded of what he'd been through, and the events of that fateful day played over and over in his mind. Whenever he thought about it, his heart pounded like a drum in his chest, and his jaw clenched. He attempted to convince himself that nothing of such had occurred and that Arnold Stone beating hi
"Over the last few weeks, Arnold Stone's name has spread like wildfire across the city." He is also known as "The Ghost Of Wall Street." "Did I just overhear you say, Ghost of Wall Street?" Sandy, Mr. Larry's secretary, was asked. Mr. Larry sat behind his desk, clutching a mound of cash. His right hand clutched an expensive VAUEN tobacco pipe, and he smoked it while looking out his office's enormous window as if deep in concentration. Mr. Larry was contemplating, though, and when Sandy began her ranting about this so-called Arnold Stone character, he merely nodded along, unbelievably. But it wasn't until she mentioned 'Ghost of Wall Street' that he paid real attention to the dialogue. “Yes. As I have stated, Arnold Stone is the "Ghost of Wall Street. He was in the headlines a few days ago. As I write this, he has become a legend, commanding respect from powerful financiers and attracting the interest of struggling companies worldwide. People from all around the world are now seek
"Do you have any information for me, Brass?" Mr. Black inquired, tapping his pen angrily across the surface of his desk.Sitting in his opulent office, his mind had been distracted with thoughts of Arnold, and now that one of his men had brought him news, he was overjoyed. The young man standing quickly replied, carrying a folder containing material concerning Arnold's background, the outcome of his thorough inquiry. He approached with caution, clearly mindful of Mr. Black's erratic personality, and spoke gently. "Boss, I've gathered some rather intriguing information about Arnold's past, just as you requested."“And.” Mr. Black inquired, patting his leg. The clicking sound resonated around the room, heightening the tension."Well, it turns out..." Brass's voice drifted off, and he paused before continuing. "He was a lowly grocery store owner, struggling to make ends meet.""Hm, is that all?" Mr. Black inquired once more, and his brow quirked as though he didn't believe the story ha
Lucas lay in his dimly lit bedroom, his body wrapped in bandages, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. His entire body throbbed, and he was in excruciating pain. He'd felt the same misery and pain every day since the fight.However, the anguish was sometimes temporary. Coming and departing, Lucas wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. He'd be well and strong in the mornings, even forcing Vera to take him outside to do some exercises, but he'd feel dead a few minutes or hours later. His muscles wouldn't operate properly, his joints would be stiff, and Lucas would revert to his old, frail self—something he didn’t like at all.Lucas desired to be powerful. He had a lot to do, and lying in bed all day wouldn't help. Not at all. He attempted to move for the umpteenth time, but it only made his entire chest hurt for a split second before he fell limp again. It took numerous attempts and a lot of suffering for him to be able to sit up on the edge of the bed. Just as he did so,
Mr. Black observed Lucas's eyes expand as he delivered those final words.Seconds, even minutes, passed, and the wounded and bruised man remained silent. Mr Black, on the other hand, was unconcerned. In reality, he applied a critical eye to the individual in front of him during the eerie silence. Was Lucas Smith up to the challenge? Will he be able to deliver as Mr Black had hoped? Still scrutinizing him, Mr. Black's mind soon wandered back to when he'd entered the bawdy house. He'd met Vera, his wife, and the lady who'd broken Arnold Stone's heart. The same woman whom he knew still had feelings for her ex-lover. Yes. It'd been evident since he'd spoken the name Arnold Stone and informed the woman of the reason for his visit. While talking, she'd given him this weird look, and he had caught on so fast.It wasn't unusual in and of itself, yet Mr Black had undoubtedly noticed it. It was an expression of regret, longing, and something resembling desire. Mr. Black understood at that
Arnold sat down comfortably by the chair, staring at the encrusted diamond gift box in his hands, his thoughts darting towards the beautiful image of Jia. Impulsively, his lips twitched in smile, as all the memories they’d had together right from the moment he set eyes on her, began flooding his memory. He couldn't allude their adventures to Romeo and Juliet, neither could he say they were Bonnie and Clyde, but all inference excluded, he was made to realize that there was no one in the world, he could propose to other than Jia.Fuck, he loved her! So strongly, and he couldn’t wait to make her his wife and the mother of his children. Infact there was no one whom he’d rather spend the whole of his life with, then her. A slight anxiety filled his skin, as he thought about the outcome of the proposal. 'What if she rejects me?' Arnold thought to himself, but soon placed all the worries behind him. His mind was already made up, as he planned on proposing to Jia soon. Probably tomorrow.
"Already eight?" Jia whispered to herself, glancing at the clock adorning her office wall. With a slight sigh, she packed her belongings into her luxurious bag.Just before leaving her spacious office, she stole another glance at the clock; it now read 8:04 pm. The day had seemingly flown by, leaving her with a sense of its brevity. "A fast day, indeed," she mused.As she walked through the corridor connecting her office to the reception area, an unexplainable unease tugged at her subconscious. Something felt amiss, causing a tingling sensation down her spine.Her keen eyes scanned the surroundings, and she quickly noticed the unusual hush that had settled upon the usually bustling hall, especially at this time of day. It should be normally abuzz with hospital staff, this corridor was eerily devoid of any soul, leaving her feeling both perplexed and slightly unnerved.Despite the strangeness of the situation, Jia remained composed and continued her walk, suppressing her curiosity momen