The lady smiled cheekily at Bryan and led him into the boutique, she strolled through the aisle and showed him the collection of suits that he had. "It's the best stock that we have. We can find a color to match your skin, you can combine with another pair and of course. We also make fittings to make sure it's your perfect size," she rambled on.Bryan walked through the aisle. At that time, he would have very much appreciated the help of his general, Benjamin. He always had an input on his wardrobe choices and usually played out beautifully. Generally, he trusted his judgment. "I need something more tame, a color that would state my presence when I enter the room," he replied. Bryan really wanted to announce his presence. He wanted to walk into the room and turn heads. He hadn't been home for such a long time and he knew the best way to make an entrance without saying much would be with his dressing. "I think we have the perfect color for you. How about we show you our array of gray
Heading back from here he purchased the suit, Bryan couldn't help but admit that he did feel better in the fine piece. He felt more appropriate than he had in the beach shirt and slacks that he'd intended to wear at first. Looking at Robson, he nodded at the man. "This wasn't such a bad idea, was it?" He said, more of a statement than the question that it actually sounded like. The driver didn't say anything, he simply nodded and continued to drive down the lonely road. Bryan had given him instructions on how to get to his place and he'd hurriedly said that he knew the way to Mr. Williams' home. His uncle was not a very popular man but neither was he insignificant. A lot of people in the city knew him if not as Williams, then as the guardian of the two sons of Franklin. A few minutes later they finally arrived at the gate of the estate. The place was just as he had recalled. Although a few minor changes like the checkpoint at the entrance were introduced - he didn't find it odd at
Bryan could not almost not believe that he was back to where he once called home. Now, all it seemed to him was some old dungeon of memories. His uncle looked a little older than he had recalled. His face was much wrinkled and his hair a little more gray. But that didn't make him look any less agile like the string man that he knew. "It feels good to be back home, uncle," Bryan replied with a wide smile but didn't walk into his uncle's embrace. The older man awkwardly closed his own arms and then gestured them both inside the house. Richard was still right beside him and he entered first, holding the door opened for Bryan. The guard was rather very happy to see Bryan and he couldn't even hold back his excitement. He hadn't seen Bryan in such a long time. He'd been in prison for quite some time and although he never wanted to speak about it, Bryan knew that it had changed the man in many ways. Especially knowing that he'd been wrongly accused and put in there in the first place. Ric
Bryan paced the length of the large hall. He couldn't keep still as he waited for Benjamin to come from the archives. He had been in the car for at least half an hour and then he decided that he couldn't stand it anymore. The heat was stifling and that wasn't because of the sun - after all, the vehicle was wound up with the air conditioning unit on full blast. "What is keeping him in there?" He asked impatiently as he spun in the spot and then sighed. Robson was still in the car but his eyes were fixed on his master. After waiting in the car for as long as he could with the anxiety gnawing on his insides, he finally decided to go to the archives himself. Unlike the first time that he'd been there, the guards were smart enough not to harass him in any way. They knew that Bryan was the new master of their boss and his father, Tom. They didn't want to upset him at all by being rude or refusing him entry. But Bryan didn't even want to cause a scene. He didn't want to let the guards kno
The slow humming of the recorder was monotonous, almost making Bryan fall asleep as he laid on his single seater couch. He couldn't keep his mind straight, his thoughts stretched far and wide. "Hey, are you okay?" Claire asked him as she sauntered to the couch and placed a glass of wine on his hands. Bryan nodded, "I'm fine," he replied vaguely. "You have said a word since you got back from the archives, what happened?" She asked. Bryan shot his eyes to her at once. "I didn't mention that I'd been at the archives since I returned, how did you know that?" He asked. Claire shrugged, "My mother told me, she must have gotten it from uncle Tom somehow," she replied. Bryan hummed, he didn't like it at all that his in-laws were keeping tabs on him. "Tom now serves me, he doesn't serve your mother and she should learn to stay off my path, I'm getting sick of her meddlesome nature," he spat angrily. Sighing, Claire told him to calm down, " I'm sure she didn't mean any harm, she just wants
Bryan marched into the Oscar Villa. Grandfather Maxwell was at the door and right beside him were three men all dressed in black and speaking in muffled tones. Claire was beside him as just as he entered, she did too and then rushed to her grandfather. "Grandfather, Maxwell, are you okay?" She asked. The old man glared at her, "Where have you been? Did you know that our home has been invaded?" He asked angrily. Claire stopped right in track, she didn't know how to respond to such an angry outburst. "I..." She stammered lamely. Bryan placed a hand on her shoulder, "Claire came here as soon as she heard of what happened, how could she have known there was an incident?" He asked. The old man sneered at him to keep shut, "You have been nothing but a bad seed in this family! You're the one distracting her from her duties!" He snapped. Bryan hissed, he didn't want to argue with grandfather but soon he would have to put him in his place. No more was he going to take scorn from the Oscar
Claire looked very uncomfortable, her eyes bored into that or Arnold and the man gave her a subtle wink that made her hiss under her breath. "Are you Arnold Mack?" Maxwell asked as he mentioned his name. The young man nodded firmly with a wide smirk on his face. He still had his eyes fixated on Claire in such a lustful manner that Bryan could help but suspect that he knew where before. Why else would he show up in the house and interrupt them? "Yes, my name is Arnold Mack and I'm the heir of the Mack Dynasty, my father has just stepped down for me to take over, I just need a few more weeks to settle in and I'll be talking over," he stated boldly. Bryan sneered at him, "This is a family situation. Unless you work with the cops, then I won't see why I should have this conversation with you. Leave, if we need help then we'll let you know," Bryan said. "Why are you chasing him away? What if he could help us?" Maxwell asked harshly, "Allow him speak, we need all the help that we can get
Claire swallowed nervously as Arnold passed her a scalding look and then turned to her husband to stare at him too. "I'm willing to help the Oscar family on one condition," he said. "Can we hear you already?" Bryan asked impatiently. He was growing weary of the tricks the man was trying to play on them. He could already guess that he was going to say something really stupid. It was pointless wasting his time too while at it. "What's the matter? Can't you be a little patient with our guest?" Maxwell asked him with a cold voice. Bryan crossed his hands and leveled him with a stare that could have frozen him on the spot. He didn't say anything else as Arnold began to speak. "It's not going to be such an easy task trying to find who did this. I mean, they must have gone very far by now and there's little or no clues at all," he said. "We all know that, that's why I said you shouldn't stress. There's a lot of work involved and you might just be able to help," Claire said. Praying inw