Bryan followed Uncle Williams through the garden, the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth filling his nostrils. They reached a small clearing, where Jenkins, the old gardener, was tending to a bed of roses. Jenkins looked up, his weathered face creasing into a surprised expression.“Jenkins," Bryan called out first to the old man who had a pair of sheaves in hand and a small watering can. “Bryan?" The old man asked with wide eyes. "It's me, old man,” Bryan said warmly and chuckled. "Bryan! I hadn't expected to see you again so soon!" Jenkins exclaimed, his voice gruff but warm.Bryan smiled, feeling a sense of ease wash over him. "Jenkins! It's great to see you again. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by."Jenkins' eyes narrowed slightly, as if sizing Bryan up. "Well, well, well. Look at you, all grown up. I remember when you were just a lad, running around the garden, getting into mischief."Uncle Williams watched the exchange with interest, a hint of a smi
Bryan felt a mix of emotions as he drove away from the Horace estate. His conversation with Jenkins had left him with more questions than answers, but he was grateful for what little sense of hope that their discussion had awakened in him. The uncertainty surrounding his brother's disappearance still lingered, but he felt a sense of determination wash over him. He was one step closer to uncovering the truth, and he was determined to find out more and at the shortest time possible. As he arrived at Ace Security Services, a sense of purpose settled in. He had arranged to meet with one of his sources, a reliable informant who had promised to provide valuable insights into the robbery that had occurred at his family's estate. Bryan's mind raced with possibilities as he entered the office. He was eager to gather any information that could lead him to Josiah.With a deep breath, he approached the reception desk and introduced himself. The receptionist greeted him warmly and led him to the
John had just named his price and showed how corrupt he really was. . "Half a million," he repeated, his voice steady.John nodded, his expression unyielding. "That's the price, Bryan. Take it or leave it."Bryan hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. But he knew he had to get his hands on that information. He pulled out his phone and opened the banking app, his fingers flying across the screen as he initiated the transfer."It's done," he said, his eyes locked on John's.John's face split into a wide smile, his eyes gleaming with greed. "Excellent," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.He turned to the cabinet behind his desk, his fingers rifling through the files until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled it out, a thick folder bulging with papers, and handed it to Bryan."This contains everything you need to know about Josiah," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "His current whereabouts, his recent deals, his associates... it's all in there."Brya
Bryan woke up with a start, his eyes blurry and his mind foggy. He was lying on a mess of papers and documents, his notes and research scattered all over the bed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the haze, and sat up slowly.He looked around the room, taking in the chaos that was his workspace. Papers were scattered everywhere, some torn and crumpled, others marked up with notes and highlights. His laptop was open, the screen still glowing with the words he had been typing before he dozed off.Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He stood up, stretching his arms and back, and made his way to the bathroom.As he was about to move to the shower, he decided to play a call to his wife, Claire. She answered on the first ring, her voice bright and cheerful."Hey, Bryan! How's it going?""Not great," Bryan replied, his voice low and serious. "We have less than four days to find the intruder who invaded the Oscar family house."There
Bryan took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, his anger and frustration evident on his face. He realized that he should have anticipated Maxwell's reaction, just as Claire had warned him. He tried to reason with himself, thinking that he needed to approach this differently, that confronting Maxwell head-on wasn't going to work. "You're right, Mr. Maxwell," Bryan said, his voice measured, trying to sound conciliatory. "I apologize if I've overstepped. But I implore you, please, just look at the evidence. It's not about betraying your trust or accusing your staff falsely. It's about uncovering the truth and ensuring the safety of your family and business."Bryan's words are laced with a hint of desperation, hoping that Maxwell will listen, that he will see reason. But Maxwell's expression remained unyielding, his eyes cold and unforgiving.Maxwell's sneer cuts deep, his words dripping with condescension. "I should have known better than to think you could help me, Bryan. You're j
Bryan turned to look at the lady who was wearing a pink apron and hurrying after him with a bonnet. She wiped her greasy hands on a small towel and looked at him with shifty eyes. “I don't recognize you, why did you call me?" He asked, wondering how a domestic servant was able to recognize him at the Oscar mansion. He had been mistreated there for as long as he could remember, none of the servants paid any heed to him. But when he suddenly recovered, all that they could do was avoid him because they hadn't treated him well while he was still unconscious and his wife used to bring him to a few family gatherings. They were all ashamed to even address him and so they kept away from him entirely. "Sir, wait!" she whispered again, her voice barely audible.Bryan turned to face her, his curiosity piqued. "Yes?"The maid hesitated, glancing around nervously before focusing on Bryan. "My name is Maryam, sir. I've been serving the Oscar family for many years."Bryan's eyes narrowed slightly
Bryan stepped out of his car, the cool night air hitting his face as he walked briskly into the dimly lit club, the heavy door creaking shut behind him. He had decided to follow his instincts and meet with Maryam alone, without informing Benjamin. The maid's words had resonated with him, and he felt a sense of urgency to hear her out. He could always discuss with Ben later, he quickly decided. As he scanned the room, his eyes adjusted to the faint light. The club was a far cry from the upscale establishments he was accustomed to. The air was thick with the smell of cigarette smoke, sweat, and cheap perfume. The patrons were a rough bunch, their faces hardened by life's struggles. Bryan's gaze swept across the room, taking in the shady characters that lurked in the shadows.He spotted Maryam in the corner, her eyes fixed on him as she nursed a drink. She looked out of place among the club's regulars, her demure dress and nervous demeanor a stark contrast to the revelry around her. Bry
As the plane touched down at the airport, Bryan stood at the terminal, his eyes fixed on the arrivals board. He couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions - excitement to see his wife, Claire, after her long trip to Paris, and annoyance at having to spend time with his mother-in-law, Freda, who was standing beside him. He would rather be anywhere else, but he knew he had to be here to welcome Claire back home.He had a lot on his mind but right at the forefront was Claire. Her two weeks trip to Paris was finally over and Bryan wished more than anything that she'd had a very happy vacation. Although he highly doubted that with all the calls that he sent her way. He always had one bad thing to report of the other and clearly she'd not been away from the screen of her PC either. She'd been trying to figure out who could possibly be behind the robbery. That was how she'd discovered the transaction into a certain worker's account and right then, as Bryan thought about it, he had a feeling th
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,