Damien, struggling to find his voice, stuttered, “Are you… are you…”
The man cut him off with a sharp question. “Why did you do it? You should’ve known better than to touch someone else’s belongings.”
“Belongings?” Damien muttered, still confused.
The man nodded. “And because of that, you stressed me out. I had to come down here myself. Do you know how stressful that is?”
“I didn’t take-” Damien’s words faltered as he caught the man’s deadly glare. “Your… your belongings,” he stammered, biting his lip in humiliation. He wasn’t the type to stutter, but this man had him feeling more intimidated than he could explain.
“Really?” the man said, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You didn’t take my belongings?”
“No, I didn’t,” Damien replied quickly.
Mari, who had been awake beside him, tried to signal Damien, suggesting the man might be from the Invisibles, but Damien was too tied up and couldn’t see his efforts to get his attention.
“Very well,” the man replied, standing up and walking away.
Damien blinked in confusion. “Just like that? He’s leaving just like that?” he thought. But the man soon returned, this time carrying a pair of pliers.
Damien’s stomach sank as the man walked toward him. He felt a wave of confusion and fear wash over him. What was the man planning to do?
The man carefully grabbed Damien’s hand, and a cold sweat trickled down his forehead. “Wh-what are you doing?” Damien stammered.
“Nothing,” the man replied calmly, his voice oddly casual. “Just a little recreation.”
With that, he used the pliers to pull Damien’s thumbnail off.
“Ahhh!” Damien let out a deafening scream from the excruciating pain he felt. He couldn’t believe his fingernail had been removed. His whole body shook in fear as the man walked back to stand in front of him. He squatted down to Damien’s level, maintaining an expression that seemed innocent but was far more terrifying.
Damien cried out and began begging, his right-hand man unable to speak as his mouth was bound. There was no way to save his boss.
“How was that?” the man asked in a simple tone, one that lacked any emotion.
What a psychopath! Damien screamed in pain in his mind, trembling as he spoke aloud, “I don’t know what…”
“You don’t know?” the man interrupted, looking surprised.
“No, I don’t mean I don’t know how I feel-it’s so painful-but I don’t know… which… which-“
“Hm?” the man gave him a questioning look, “Where’s my goods?” he asked, playing with the pliers and rubbing the tip, stained with blood.
“Goods? Damn! The goods!” Damien realized in his mind.
“I have the goods,” he said quickly.
“Of course you do,” the man replied. “I’m asking, where is it?”
“In the factory,” Damien answered hastily.
The invisible man turned to one of his men, who immediately dragged Mari away to the factory to retrieve the goods.
Is he really the man I know? Can he truly be the Christian Charles I know? Damien kept asking himself in shock as he looked at him. Is he part of the Invisible Men?
His heart nearly jumped out of his mouth when Christian turned to him sharply. He trailed the sweat on his face with the pliers, making Damien tremble.
“I don’t like causing trouble, you know,” Christian began. “But I really don’t like being stressed.”
“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” Damien cried.
“Of course you are,” Christian said with a smile. “You’re never going to touch what’s mine again.” He stood up, handing the pliers to one of his men. Rubbing his bloodied hand against Damien’s body, staining his clothes, Christian said, “Untie him. His tied hand isn’t letting the blood flow.”
He then walked out to the waiting helicopter.
Damien heaved a long sigh of relief, still in pain as they untied him. His clothes were drenched in sweat, and his legs felt numb. But he was relieved that the damage hadn’t been worse. As the last van of the Invisible Men exited the building, his sigh of relief was short-lived. The moment the van pulled away, the factories caught fire.
“Ahh!” Damien screamed as he watched his factories burn, wailing in agony as he saw all his efforts go up in flames. Mari and the other surviving men rushed to try to extinguish the fire, but it was too late.
A few minutes later, Christian received a call from Karine.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Evening, Karine. Any issues?”
“Not at all, sir. However, the document we are submitting early tomorrow morning is still not signed.”
“Oh,” Christian sighed, realizing he had forgotten about it. “Take it to my house. I’ll sign it when I get home and have it ready for tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, sir. Thank you, sir.”
He hung up and walked away from the helicopter, heading toward his car where his driver was waiting for him.
Back at the office, Damien sat on the sofa, looking pale with his finger bandaged. His body seemed drained of all spirit after the events. His men were outside, cleaning up the mess and tending to the injured. He wished he had listened to Mari. If only he had, perhaps he wouldn’t have lost so much and wouldn’t have been so humiliated.
“My Lord!” Mari suddenly rushed in, startling him.
“What is it?” Damien asked, his voice hoarse.
“Your brother is calling.”
“What?! Tell him I’m not available,” Damien instructed.
“I already told him, but he insisted.”
Damien grunted. He didn’t want his brother to know what had happened, but he also knew how persistent and stubborn his brother could be. If he didn’t answer the call, his brother would likely show up in person, and that would be even worse. So, he reluctantly took the phone from Mari and answered the call, only to realize just in time that it was a FaceTime call.
“What’s up, bro?” Damien greeted, trying to sound casual.
“What’s up? How are you doing?” his brother replied.
“Why am I seeing only your ear?” Damien asked, confused.
“Huh?” Damien pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. That’s when it dawned on him.
He glared at Mari and muttered, “Why didn’t you tell me it was a video call?”
“Is it?” Mari replied, his voice barely audible. Damien shot him a disapproving look before turning his attention back to the screen.
“Sorry,” he said.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” his brother asked, clearly concerned.
“Nothing, I’m good.”
“No, you’re not. Why do you look so pale?”
“Um, I’m just a little sick.”
“Is it that bad? You’re not the type to fall ill.”
“Not that much. I’m fine.”
“Since when?”
“Just today.”
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.