Claire looked at Bryan again as she stood by the corner of the pool, a good distance from him and answered the call. She hadn't expected him to call so soon after her mother texted her. She hoped to spend more time with Bryan but clearly that plan would have to wait. "I'll be right there," she replied with a cold voice and then hissed as she hung up promptly. She sighed, crossed her arms and looked at the water, blinking away her tears. "Can I just tell him? Will he ever forgive me?" She whispered to herself as she looked in his direction again. Bryan had been nothing but helpful from the very first day they met. He had tried to get her mother a place of respect in the family but Freda wasn't in the mood to work. She didn't want to earn a living when she could only prey off others. While Claire had been doing her best to get the family on its feet and secure some good deals, Freda had priced the latest bags and watches off an expensive boutique site. She didn't mind breaking all t
Bryan could hear the shock in his voice as he spoke. “Bryan?” The old man asked and then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not Bryan. You just sound a lot like my nephew, who are you?” He asked. “You were right actually, it’s Bryan,” he stated. Uncle William gasped and then asked what had happened to him. “What’s been happening? How are you?” He asked, his voice quaking. “I’m fine, Uncle, it’s been a few…years,” he said. William was still stuttering as he asked where Bryan was. How he was doing. “I’m fine, uncle. You can quite sound shocked. I know that you haven’t spoken with me for a long time but I guess you must have heard I’m back in the city, my return sparked a lot of attention,” he said. Uncle William chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I can’t deny that I hear that. But I thought it was all a rumor. I didn’t know it was true. I could have never believed that you would be in the city without coming home,” he said. Bryan hummed, maybe the old man didn’t believe the rumors
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
When he arrived at Freda's house, he could hear raised voices from inside. He stormed in to find Claire and Freda in a heated argument."Get out of here, Bryan," Freda snapped. "This is between me and my daughter."Bryan stood his ground. "I know everything, Freda. There's no need to hide it anymore."Claire turned to him, eyes wide with shock and fear. "Bryan, please don't bring it up. If Grandfather Maxwell finds out what I've done..."Bryan took a deep breath, his resolve strengthening. "I'll confront the situation, Claire."Freda laughed derisively, her voice dripping with contempt. "You think you can convince Maxwell to forgive her? She’ll always be under my control."Bryan's eyes blazed with determination. "We'll see about that at the family gathering this weekend."Freda's expression turned from contempt to anger. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, Bryan. Claire made her choices, and now she has to live with them."Bryan stepped closer, his voice low and fierce. "She m
That night, Bryan woke up with a jerk. The cold sweat on his forehead same as the ice creeping down his spine. He had just had the weirdest dream. Or was it a dream? He couldn't tell. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. He needed water, something to qunwch his dry throat that felt like parchment paper. Yawning, he padded softly with bare feet to the kitchen, he moved through the darkened hallway, the silence of the night making his soft footfalls resound. The house was as dark as his thoughts. Speaking of thoughts, Bryan hadn't been able to keep his mind blank since the incident with Jenkins. Neither had he been able to wrap his head around all that the old man had told him. But somehow it made perfect sense. The odd stares, the way his aunt hated him but somehow loved his brother, it all made sense somehow. As he reached the kitchen, he flipped on the light and blinked against the sudden brightness. He headed for the cabinet
Bryan drove like the devil was on his tail, arriving at the classic bar Jenkins had picked out for their meeting. It was a beautiful garden bar just outside of town. As Bryan killed the engine, he pulled on his coat and baseball cap, trying his best at disguise before stepping into the place.**The garden bar was indeed a fitting spot for Jenkins, considering his love for flowers. Just as Bryan looked to the left, he saw the old man's hand guiding him to a corner table. Bryan walked over and shook his head in disbelief."I was hoping you only sounded different, but you look different too," Bryan said.Jenkins was dressed in a thick fur coat and a hat. He nursed a cup of coffee with his gloved hands."Sit down, boy. I have to be quick," Jenkins said.Bryan noticed that gone was Jenkins' stammering and broken words. He spoke fluently now, almost as if nothing had ever been wrong with him. Bryan sat down, looking at him curiously."You're running out of time. Your brother and uncle have
Bryan staggered back a little, struggling to process the jarring change in Jenkins’ voice. The old man he had known was frail, his voice barely rising above a whisper. Yet, the voice on the phone now was strong and assertive, unrecognizable as Jenkins'. He glanced around, half-expecting to see the old man materialize in front of him, but there was nothing—just the lingering sound of his own breathing and the hum of the city around him."Jenkins?" Bryan asked again, his voice edged with uncertainty. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t speaking to someone else, someone who had somehow gotten hold of Jenkins’ phone. His skepticism was palpable, though he hoped it wasn’t the case.“It’s me, Bryan. You said I should call you right? You did give me your card,” the voice on the line said. Bryan could almost hear the confidence emanating from the speaker. It was a tone of authority that starkly contrasted with the frailty he had grown accustomed to.“You sound different,” Bryan said, his laugh com
After a few minutes of driving through the busy streets of the city, he went easy on the brakes as he turned to the quiet suburban area. Peterson was always one for his space and privacy and perhaps one could say that he was the most secretive member of the team. When he arrived at Peterson's place, he met with his son, Chad just as he rang the doorbell and the maid allowed him in. “Hey, boy." Bryan said as he stepped into the house. Chad looked at him oddly and then for a second, recognition flashed in his eyes and he stepped aside. “Mr Bryan," he said with a thin voice. Bryan gave him a slight nod and moved into the living room, taking the plush seat that he was offered. “We weren't expecting such an important guest," Chad said with a smile that was obviously as fake as the Picasso painting on the wall. “I never planned to pay the visit either,” Bryan replied. Chad was eager to show him around and also asked to serve him breakfast and a cup of coffee. But Bryan was already gett
Bryan quickly tried to regain composure from the information that had just shaken him. If someone else was the supreme warlord, then it meant that the council had convened to terminate his own title and somehow found someone else worthy of such ordination. "Last time I checked, there was no one who could even compete with me. No one was worth being the supreme master, talk more of the supreme warlord. Had they suddenly dropped their standard?" He asked out loud but to no one in particular.He couldn't believe it. He was the best, the greatest, the supreme. No one could match his skills, his strategy, his leadership. He was the one who had been chosen, who had been destined for greatness.Who could even replace him? Who was worthy of such a title, the supreme warlord? Bryan snickered, wondering who could even stand behind him, he was second to none. There was no one he could think of that was even half the man he was. All his generals needed a lesson on night and courage. They couldn't
Bryan was already seething with hot wrath. How could his general even think that he'd want to hear about any territory and political bullshit when all he was trying to do was aimed at giving his life meaning? For a second, he felt stupid for even picking the call in the first place. It didn't make any sense to talk about the territory when his mind kept playing back to Uncle William's words and that of Josiah. “Hello, are you there?" Ben's voice came through the speaker, dragging him from his intense thoughts. “Stop!" He snapped suddenly, without any warning. “I've had enough of this bullshit!" He said with a fierce look. "Come up, what are you talking about!” Ben asked as his voice rose. Bryan told him that he had no interest in talking politics. He was sick and tired or running in circles. “What I need right now is a fucking compass! I need someone, something, anything, to take me to where my past is. I want to know what I am, who I am, what went wrong,” he bit out, "Not some pol
The next day, Benjamin called Bryan as early as daybreak. Bryan was still sleepy when he heard his phone ring and he rolled out of bed to grab it. "Hey, Ben, you're waking me up rather early, what's up?" He asked, his voice groggy with sleep.Benjamin first apologized for calling him up so early and asked how his previous day had gone. Bryan sighed, wondering how he could possibly recount his day to his friend. It was one hell of a year and it left him sour. "That's a long story, Ben. I don't think I want to talk about it," he replied, rubbing his eyes.Ben laughed and told him that he knew he'd gone home and he could guess that it wasn't such an easy day since his brother wasn't the most friendly person. Bryan scoffed, calling his brother unfriendly and was just trying to coat it up. Josiah was outrightly harsh, he was everything that someone would never want his own brother to do. "That's falling far from the mark," Bryan said, his voice laced with sarcasm.Ben sighed, telling him he
Jenkins laughed again, the sound a little too shrill and mechanical. "You can't choose your family, Bryan. They're stuck with you, no matter what."Bryan's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "I don't want to talk about my family, Jenkins. Can you let it go?!” He asked with a harsh tone. But for a second, he couldn't help feeling pity for him. Once again, he was clearly not mentally well and it showed. "Have you been taking your medications?" He asked with a low tone, his worry evident.Jenkins scratched his head, his eyes clouding over. "Yeah, they said life can't be the same again. I guess this is what they mean. Everyone thinks I'm insane," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.Bryan's eyes bulged, he couldn't believe that he'd just made the man feel bad. "I didn't mean that at all, I was just trying to make sure that you're fine," he said, his voice softening.The old man smiled and waved him off. "Yeah, you don't have to say it, I can see it in your eyes," he replied,