By the time they fired two more times, it was clear that they would soon be out of bullets. What Derek Campton didn't know was if his opponent brought another magazine with him. His other magazine was in his bedroom, and Derek Campton knew that trying to cross the hallway to get it was death itself. Leaning against the door, he breathed hard, his breath coming in short gasps and spurts. Derek Campton knew one thing for sure. For the first time in his life, he was actually staring at death in the face, and he was defying it too. The problem was how long he was going to continue doing it, how long he was going to continue staring at death in the face and defying it without caring about the consequences. When he fired again, he tried the trigger again, then inhaled sharply as the gravity of his situation became clear to him. He was out of bullets, and his magazine was in the bedroom. He had been counting his opponent's shots too, and he could tell that he must have also exhausted
He lifted his head again, but at the same time, Derek Campton stretched his hand, stealing a knife in the knife rack and thrusting it as far as it could go into the Russian's neck. Clutching his neck in disbelief, the Russian was crippled instantly. The blood that flowed from his neck told Derek that he had slightly missed his artery. From Derek's calculations, his opponent had less than an hour to live. The man collapsed onto the floor, and Derek used the time to wash the huge gash on his forehead. He managed to wash the wound on his arm too, then opened the kitchen cabinet to retrieve bandages and methylated spirit from the band aid. When he was okay enough to drag the huge Russian back to the sitting room, thirty minutes had flown by. Thirty minutes was precious time because he knew that in a few minutes, his opponent wouldn't be able to let out a single word. Positioning him before the camera of his phone, Derek Campton started to ask the most important questions, the questi
When Karen Shapiro saw him, she didn't know what to feel initially. For a minute, she wanted the proceedings to start and she wanted it to end as quickly as it had started. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she still loved him, that she was still very much attracted to him; in love with him even. When their eyes came in contact, she immediately broke the contact, transferring her gaze to Brown Darius who sat next to Gonzalez. She smiled, admiring his courage. At that moment, he didn't seem to care that he was the Stepbrother to Mark Darius, he didn't even act as if they had once lived in the same house and underneath the same roof. He was aloof, not caring, a glass of brandy in his glass. He was laughing heartily with Gonzalez, and Karen wondered if he was drunk. She was taking note, she was watching. Outside, she had stationed two snipers in the trees, their guns at the ready. Inside, the men with her seemed happy, but in reality, they were buzzing for action. It made Ka
Parking his car a few feet away from the Splendid bar, Derek Campton examined the environment before him. Even outside, he could see the figures of men lying in wait, their weapons at the ready. He spotted a sniper at the rear of the building, and he found himself wondering what more Karen Shapiro had planned. God, she was dangerous. He had expected her to be a handful, but this was more than a handful. He was dealing with a hard criminal, and at the moment all he could do was pity his client who was indoors with such a monster. He only prayed that he could survive the onslaught. A few moments ago, he had been overjoyed that he had a lot of evidence to cripple the defenses of Karen Shapiro but at the moment, he wondered if his evidence was going to be enough to fight such a demon. Who brought snipers to a negotiation? It was clear that whatever powers Karen Shapiro possessed, it ran down to the underworld. She was a boss on her own, not only a boss, but one who had enough conne
Farida Atticus sat silently in the darkness of the car, her heart hammering violently in her chest. She couldn't believe it, that her son was going to be the object of a negotiation. Shaking her head, she found herself wondering how she had gotten to where she was at the moment, how her life had turned into what it was. She blamed love and what love had done to her. Love had made her trust a man like Mark Darius, a man whose life was a walking red flag. Love had made her put her trust in a man whose life was nothing but a series of troublesome events rolled into one. A man whose life was war itself. At that moment, she could only pray for her son. She knew that losing him was out of the question. What was her life going to be without her beloved son? What was her life going to be without the person she lived for? She couldn't imagine living without him, there was no life without a child she had built her life around. Even though she was in the car, she could tell from the char
“And what if you don't have him? What are you going to do, Mark Darius? You're nothing but a weakling and a coward, and this is why I said playing the hero doesn't fit you. You hide behind your riches and think everything can be solved with wealth?” Mark Darius was irritated. He stared at her, then shook his head. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to rattle him, she was trying to make him lose focus. She was probably trying to make him forget about the purpose of why he was in the splendid bar. And he was going to make sure he proved her wrong. He was going to remain focused, no matter how much the distractions were going to come. “Exchanging words with a power hungry fool like you is the last thing that I want to do. You have something that belongs to me. Give me Atticus and we can settle this and get out of this place.” He could see that she was offended by the term “power hungry fool” but he didn't care. He also knew that he was supposed to play by her rules, but th
“Come on Mark Darius, open up, it won't bite. I'm surprised that you're scared of a common envelope. There's no bomb inside, I assure you. A bomb would destroy all of us, wouldn't it?” Acknowledging that she was right, Mark Darius started to reconsider his decision of not touching the envelope. She had taken her seat, solely enjoying the air that came from the air conditioner next to her chair. He could see that in front of him was a selfish woman and a woman who would go at any length to have the upper hand in a battlefield. And to think that a surprise lay in front of him, a surprise he didn't want to be part of. He had no choice. If he wanted to save Atticus, then he had to be brave. And being brave meant opening the envelope in front of him, not caring about the consequences or the dangers. Tearing the seal of the envelope, he opened it slowly, retrieving the printed document that was inside it, with a pen by the side. When he began to read it, his mouth lay open in surpr
Mark Darius had always known that Karen Shapiro was a selfish, power thirsty and ambitious woman, but he didn't believe that she could go as far as she had gone. Was this the purpose of all she had been doing? Was this the reason for her constant attacks? Was this why she had been trying to kill him all along and had gone ahead to kill innocent people? To kill people that he loved and had always cherished? He was furious, but he knew better than to show his anger. He was to remain calm, he was going to try and resolve it. The contract was clear. For him to receive Atticus safe and sound, he had to give her all of his assets, his company included. From that day, they would cease to belong to him, and everything he had ever owned would belong to Karen Shapiro. He was shocked by the level of pettiness he was witnessing. Things were slowly beginning to unravel itself even though it had taken quite a long time to do so. “Was this why you killed them all, Karen?” She smiled, then