“You’re not welcome,” Christian said, watching Gael settle into his seat. But Gael ignored the cold glare directed at him.
“You have no choice,” Gael responded confidently. “How’s business? Bet all the competitors are in wheelchairs now.”
“Not walking sticks?” Christian replied, not looking away from his laptop.
“Hey,” Gael placed his arms on the table, staring at Christian. “Are you this stiff with your wife, too? Man, you need to loosen up or else she’s going to have trouble connecting with you.”
“Good job with your sermon,” Christian replied flatly, still not looking away from his screen.
“I’m serious. How’s she going to open up to you? How is she even coping with such a stiff man?” Gael pressed.
“You should’ve gotten married then, if you’re so worried,” Christian shot back, his expression unchanged.
“I know, I really want to, but my fiancee isn’t ready,” Gael said, looking slightly sad.
Christian noticed the change in Gael’s voice and looked at him closely. He knew how much his brother loved the girl, even though he personally didn’t like her.
“You’ve been dating her longer than I can guess, and yet, no plan?” Christian asked.
Gael sighed. “I have to respect her decisions. She said she isn’t ready yet, and I understand that. She’s a very hardworking lady, focused on her business, with dreams and goals. I’m going to wait for her, until she achieves them. I’ll be a partner who’ll always be there whenever she needs me.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “You’re lovesick.”
“At least I’m better than my stiff brother,” Gael said with a laugh.
Christian was quiet for a few seconds before adjusting his wine-colored tie around his crisp white shirt. He looked at Gael closely and asked, “Did she really reject your proposal because of some dreams and goals?” He raised an eyebrow.
Gael smiled and replied, “I know you never liked her, but believe me, she loves me as much as I love her.” He paused for a moment, then added, “That makes me want to ask you something-has there ever been a time when someone made your heart beat faster? Do you find yourself waiting for their calls without even realizing it? Has there ever been someone who makes your heart soften, even when you’re angry? Because that’s who Sophia is to me. I love her so much.”
Christian couldn’t reply. His mind drifted away, reopening images he had closed off for years, flashing the worst memories before his eyes. He gulped down the emptiness inside and squeezed the pen in his right hand so tightly that, if his phone hadn’t dinged, he would have broken it.
He dropped the pen and checked the message. It was from Clinton, and Christian frowned as he read it.
Gael noticed his brother frowning and wondered what had caused it.
“What’s it?” he asked.
“Just a message,” Christian replied as he dialed Clinton’s phone number.
“What message? From your wife?” Gael asked.
“No, from the old man.”
“The old man? Is something wrong with grandfather?” Gael asked, concerned.
“No, he’s staying with me,” Christian said, still frowning.
“What? That old man stalked you until you got married?” Gael burst into laughter. “I’m sure grandfather put him to it,” he said, chuckling softly as he shook his head.
“Where are you?” Christian asked over the phone.
“We’re currently at the hospital.”
“Ari? Is she okay?”
“Yeah, just shaken up a little.”
“I’m coming right now,” he said, hanging up. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his coat. “Should I come with you?”
“No worries,” Christian replied, heading for the door. But he suddenly paused and looked at Gael. “Ashley’s birthday?”
“Next tomorrow, and I’ve done everything you asked of me.”
“Good,” Christian said, then left.
Gael stood there, looking around. “Guess I leave too.”
In the Underworld
In the middle of a vast green field stood a giant house, built like an ancient empire with a sprawling compound. A fountain sat at the center, and beside it stood a massive statue of a behemoth, symbolizing the power, influence, and coercion that lay within the building.
Outside, different cars and trucks were parked, and the men standing beside them exuded nothing but the aura of death. Their faces were hardened, their eyes hidden behind shades, all dressed in black suits as they vigilantly guarded the area, wary even of the slightest movement in the air.
Inside the building, darkness concealed untold secrets and deadly activities. The chandelier gave off little light, and candles flickered, casting shadows on the brown cushions and the glass table in the center.
Seated in a chair was a man dressed in a black suit. His presence was dominating, exuding the air of a cold, nonchalant figure who feared nothing. In his right hand was a cigarette, which he smoked as he surveyed the room, never once looking at his right-hand man who was reporting to him.
“And the factory?” he asked in a low, baritone voice.
“It’s intact, but we’ve had to tighten security. The Silvers have started making moves. Our lord isn’t even here, and…”
“They’re seizing every opportunity they have, and I’m sure the other lords are sitting tight,” the right-hand man finished.
“But we need to do something, my lord. Our truck was taken down yesterday,” the man covered in tattoos said, looking worried. However, his lord, who held the lowest rank in the hierarchy, was not shaken.
“I’m very much aware, Invisible 12,” he said, looking at him and puffing on his cigarette. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“But The Invisible is ill… he’s dying,” the man whispered.
Invisible 6 understood his worries. Their mafia lord was ill, and their clan was in danger. Other mafia organizations had started making their moves. They had been the supreme force among all drug lords, the most powerful of all mafia clans, ruling with authority for so long. But now, it seemed there was a crack in their power, and every mafia group was eager to exploit it.
“There’s something you don’t know,” he began. “The reason why I’m not shaken and why our overall lord is called The Invisible, not the number 1, is because there’s always someone behind someone, who’s behind someone else-someone who is really pulling the strings.”
“I don’t understand,” the man replied.
“We have four mafia clans: the Golds, who are the lowest; the Bronzes, who are third; the Silvers, who trained thousands of assassins; and then us, the Invisibles, because we hold the power to rule over them all. Where there’s an Invisible, no Silver, Gold, or Bronze dares to speak out. It’s not because we own the biggest international drug trafficking factory, or because we are the richest,” he said, pausing for a moment. He dropped his cigarette and extinguished the fire by stepping on it. Then he raised his head slowly and said, “It’s all because of one man, the man who gave us the name Invisible. No one knows him. No one has ever seen him. Those who have seen him can’t recognize him, and those who recognized him are dead. He’s the real number 1 in the underworld, but he’s known as The Diamond.”
“The Diamond? Do you know anything about him?”
“Not personally, but I’ve heard his history. He’s powerful enough to have the underworld at his command. I’ve heard he’s very famous, but I’m not sure if he’s a celebrity, a musician, or a tycoon. I’ve heard he once served in the Marines, was excellent in sports, a guru in business, and a genius in politics. I’ve heard many things about him, and there’s a way to make him reveal who he is.”
“There’s a way?”
“Yes, but you’d be dead within seconds,” he said, walking away with his left hand tucked in his black pants. “And the truck is back. No one dares touch The Invisible. No one wants to mess with Diamond,” he shouted, ensuring his words were heard.
“Then he should be called The Invisible instead of Diamond. Why did he choose Diamond?”
Clinton walked briskly to where Clarisse was sitting. She was alone, doing nothing, her hands resting in her lap, watching the doctors and nurses rushing around as patients kept arriving with various issues. A trivial feeling of gratitude settled in her mind as she observed some of the patients screaming in pain. She prayed and wished them a speedy recovery, but soon, she was reminded of the night her parents died. Before the feelings could settle in, Clinton’s voice rescued her.
“Ma’am?” he called, bowing slightly before her. She quickly stood up.
“Is she awake?” she asked.
“No, but she’s fine. Don’t worry about her. I’ll look after her. You should head home now.”
“No, I’ll just wait here. We can leave together.”
“Thank you, and I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave before me as Master is waiting outside.”
Clarisse’s heart skipped. “Mr. Christian is here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “I’ll take you to him,” he said, leading the way. She nervously trailed behind Clinton, pinching her nails. She began to prepare herself for some scolding, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. But leaving the house might have pissed him off.
When they reached the spot where he was standing, beside the Lamborghini, Clinton bowed before him while Clarisse kept her eyes fixed on his shoes, afraid to meet his gaze.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.