THE RISE OF JORDAN RIVERS

THE PLOY

Jordan was dragged into the police compound like a real criminal. Or even worse. The revilement and the deadly threats he had received from the police on the way were enough to kill him before he reached the station. He just could not tell why he was not trembling like a threatened person. He thanked whatever was holding his composure tight. But deep inside, he cursed those damn police officers and the damn person who had reported him.

Immediately after they reached the station, he was again dragged beastly into the interrogation room. But that was not all. After being thrown into the room like a dog, he crashed on a seat, and on it, a man was perched, his back turned on Jordan. But his crash on the seat made the swivel chair rotate, revealing the man’s brutal face.

“Hello, Jordan!” The man’s sickening voice echoed in the room.

His voice and demeanor were cold enough to leave anyone trembling like a leave in a hurricane or a little hummingbird under the fierce gaze of a ferocious horn