Dylan looked at his watch for the thousandth time and confirmed its current reading with the clock on the wall above the door that led to Chelsea's office. Both readings matched, reassuring him once more that his watch was correct. He sighed in resignation and took his eyes off the clock.His eyes fell on the door and he sighed again. He leaned forward on his desk, resting his elbows on it. He gently caressed his glabella, closing his eyes in reflection. He was worried and there was no way he could hide it. The situation made him upset, worried and restless. He felt that a bad thing might have happened to Chelsea and he was here sitting, doing nothing. He deeply regretted not offering to go with her when he knew she would have readily and eagerly accepted. At least that would save him the torment of frustration he was undergoing right now. He had thought that him offering such would paint him as weak, clingy or jealous. But deep inside he knew he was all those things when it came to
Dylan walked gently towards Chelsea, staring intently at her with disbelief in his eyes. Not that he didn't believe her report. No, he disbelieved the fact that a person in his or her right thinking senses would dare to rape someone in a hotel in Miami. Worse still, that the person would think of doing it to a staff of Cross Enterprises. And at the apex of that, even to his Chief Assistant. Whether as the Pope in the underworld or as Dylan Cross in the regular society, he was a colossal force that even the wildest of tigers dared not provoke. It was public knowledge that those who crossed Dylan Cross ended up devastated or destroyed. In the underworld, he could handle it instantly and in the most lethal way befitting of a mafia don that he was. Just a gesture and the unfortunate opponent would be laying dead at his feet in less than an hour. He had slain men who did far more less.In the regular society, he tended to handle it more civil. If the threat was from a fellow businessman,
Alex peeped out the window one more time before returning to his original sitting position. He had repeatedly done the same thing previously at several intervals. He gave himself a space of five to ten minutes before repeating the process. He clutched his hands together as he sat, expectantly waiting for his assigned pickup driver. He sniffed occasionally and exhaled repeatedly, rubbing his hands against each other as though under a certain tension. His eyes hurt him excruciatingly but he had learned to get used to pain. Whatever it was Chelsea had thrown into his eyes was really poisonous. He could feel it eating into his eye sockets but he maintained composure. He had moved away from the hotel immediately after the incident with Chelsea. He knew he would be compromised if he stayed there. So immediately he saw Chelsea leave in the Urus, he boarded a taxi and drove to a remote location he had previously paid for.True to it, he was actually under tension. And for two reasons. First
Alex opened his eyes to a blurry environment. His head dangled, rising and falling as he tried to steady his vision. Gradually, his head steadied and the scene before him became clear. His eyes were still irritated so several spots dotted his vision but the overall scene was plain.He saw two figures before him, both of which he immediately recognised. One he had seen on TVs, billboards and other big screens and adverts all over Miami. Philanthropist, entrepreneur and owner of several of Miami's leading companies.The other person was much easier to recognise. He would recognise her in any city, putting on any dress, even if she changed her skin tone, he would know her with one look. He scoffed the moment he saw her.He felt a fastening on his wrists and ankles and pulled at them repratedly but none of them budged. He directed his gaze to his four limbs and found them chained apart, each limb ninety degrees away from the other. He was chained in a crucifix fashion, his hands to an ele
"Aaaaaargh"Alex screamed in agony as the drill pierced into his wrist. The spinning rod drilled mercilessly into his flesh, through his bones, veins and muscles, and out of the other end. It sent a shocking vibration into his nervous system. His neurons sent agitating nerve impulses to his brain, causing his body to jerk violently as he screamed.Dylan maintained a blank expression as he continued drilling holes all over Alex's body. He took breaks at intervals, letting him bleed out profusely from the new holes. When the blood stopped flowing, he began drilling again, either at a new spot close to the former or at a different critical spot when there was no more space on the former region.Alex began another round of screams. He wriggled his body, writhing in pain as Dylan drilled into and through his biceps. His four limbs felt paralysed. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes and received no feedback from their adjoining joints."Several studies indicate that the level of calmness y
"Yes, Dylan. Yes. I will be your consigliere" Chelsea smiled at Dylan. She walked to him and threw the knife to the ground. She wrapped her hands around his neck and looked into his eyes meaningfully. "I will be anything you want me to be, Pope" she giggled softly, her tone having an indication of sinisterness. His arms encircled her hip and he drew her closer to him. He gazed at her admiringly and smiled."Let's rule the world, raven" he smirked and closed his eye, exhaling in delight. ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤Skylands HotelIn a section specially reserved for Dylan, Chelsea sat with him and three other men. She recognised one to be the mayor she had met previously in the same spot. The other two were rather aged men, obviously older than Dylan. One had a weathered appearance, giving off the he vibes of a seasoned mafioso. He wasn't clad in a suit typical of Dylan's men. He simply wore an all black themed attire consisting of a leather jacket and a pair of black leather trousers. The other dres
Chelsea looked up at Bishop as they rode in the SUV. Dylan had informed all of them of an operation downtown. One of their business rivals was having a meeting with one of their biggest clients. The Intel had revealed that this rival was offering lesser prices for his drugs than that of 7 Daggers. It was Bishop's job to handle but Chelsea offered to go with him. Dylan first refused but the insisted, promising that she would be okay. Deep down, she wanted to prove her worth to both Bishop and the Vicar. They had doubts about her and she was set to prove them wrong. She needed the trust and support of everyone on the team if she was going to pull off her scheme. Even now, the way Bishop stared at her from behind his extremely dark shades was kind of creepy. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she imagined him observing her intently, searching for a flaw or wrong move that would serve to discredit her.She smiled and lifted her chin. She stole a few glances at him but he never turne
"Come over this way and sit, Bishop. We were just discussing business" Stone smiled, beckoning on Bishop to sit with them. "What's the bitch doing in here?" Thom Redd asked, looking at Chelsea. "Say the word bitch again and your name won't be the only thing that's red" Bishop replied threateningly, his tone seething with hate."Manners, please" Stone turned to Thom sternly. Then he turned to Bishop. "Please do tell us who the pretty lady is. It's not everyday a woman sits with men to discuss such matters" he said, eyeing Chelsea with a smile."It is the Pope's orders that she sits in on this business meeting. You have a problem with that?" Bishop replied."No way, not at all. I felt like I should have been briefed earlier on that we would be having such a gracious face join us today" Stone said smilingly. "Please sit with us" he gestured for the duo to sit.Chelsea smiled within herself, seeing as Stone was already pleased by her appearance. She had taken an extra attention to her a