Chelsea opened her eyes and turned to Dylan on the bed. He was fast asleep. She had lost track of time but she remembered she had fallen asleep too after the sex. She also remembered the last thing she heard from him. He had answered her question in the way she expected. She had played her emotional card and it had worked. Originally, she feared it would have little to no success, given his hardened domineering demeanor she had grown so accustomed to. But he always surprised her. Either with an unexpected romantic gesture or a totally different attitude entirely. She watched him sleep, his subconscious appearance still striking her as hot and seductive. She motioned to sit up but felt his heavy hand curved around her back to her waist, gripping her protectively. She smiled and rested her head on his chest. "Are you awake already?" she heard him ask, his voice a little bit drowsy. "Yes" she replied, looking up at him. He smiled, his eyes still closed and breathed relaxedly, tighte
Dylan threw on his suit jacket as he walked out of his room. His phone rang and he slid across to answer it."I'm on my way" he said calmly into the phone, his steps a bit brisk. "We've caught two more" the caller on the other end replied. "Beautiful. I'll be there shortly" he replied and hastened up, heading for the exit. He saw Chelsea and Joyce walking out of a hallway and slowed down. He looked admiringly at Chelsea and smiled. She smiled back at him and bit her lower lip. He chuckled and winked at her before turning to Joyce. His expression went blank and he looked away. He walked hastily through the living room and exited the mansion. He boarded the Bentley Continental and the next minute found him driving out of the Cross Estate.¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤The RendezvousDylan's Bentley Continental drove into the premises and pulled up at the parking lot. He stepped out elegantly and walked gently towards the massive building. The several containers that laid about gave the premises an ille
Dylan stared at the quartet of lifeless bodies before him that lay at his feet. He exhaled and wiped his face subconsciously. "Call in some of your men" he said without turning to Victor and rubbed his hands against each other. Victor turned and spoke into his earphone. "Diego, Ricky, come in" he said and turned back to Dylan.In less than a minute, two suited men came running in. They stopped before Dylan and bowed reverently. "Observe these bodies thoroughly. Take note of their tattoos, check their bodies for any similar marks, their weapons too, study them carefully. Report your findings and analysis to the Vicar" he ordered."Yes, Pope" they replied, their heads still bowed.Dylan turned to Victor. "Walk with me" he said and stepped over the bodies, heading for the exit of the building.Victor followed closely behind him, walking with his hands clasped together at his back. As they walked outside the building, several suited men who stood outside bowed as Dylan passed them, no
Dylan sniffed occasionally as he was driven back to his mansion. He reflected on what Victor said and even though he feared the outcome he knew he had to do it. If she ran away with the money, he would definitely have her captured and brought back to him rather easily. Of course, his assigned man would be keeping tabs on her at all times. But deep down he would be scarred beyond healing. He would lock up his heart and never open it up to any female whosoever.He had tried to put his past and its ugly reminders aside to open up a new spot for Chelsea. Even though several times his memories pushed back in and his insecurities got the better of him, he allowed her prove them wrong time and again. This was just one more test. How she performed in it would determine if all she had been saying was just lie after lie, aimed at making him see her for who she was not. One thing he knew he had unjustly robbed her off was her freedom. She hadn't spoken to anyone she knew ever since he capture
Chelsea walked angrily towards her room. She ignored the courtesy from the guards whom she passed on her way. She hadn't been officially inducted into the cartel as Dylan's consigliere but they all had begun according her a certain level of respect. She got to her room and Joyce was sitting down expectantly. As soon as she stepped in, the elderly woman looked up and smiled at her. "How did you know I was coming here?" she asked, a little bit confused. Joyce didn't respond. She simply kept looking at her with the smile across her face."Wait a minute. You knew he would be mad?" Chelsea asked, a hint of irritation evident in her tone.Joyce nodded calmly. "Geez. For heaven's sake! You knew and you couldn't have told me? Why did you send me there in the first place?" she threw her arms into the air in exasperation and turned around. She scoffed and turned back to Joyce. "With all due respect, Ma, how does this whole family operate? Because sometimes it seems you all have different p
As Chelsea sat in her room, she reflected on Joyce's words. She saw the wisdom and truth in them and immediately regretted lashing out at Dylan. As Joyce had said, that would only amount to him becoming more aggressive and oppressive to her.She exhaled and stood up, immediately exiting her room. She walked along the hallway, her heart thumping as she navigated through the house, heading for Dylan's room. She took a while to remember what she had seen in the room, the strange and imperial grandeur that had graced her.Behind the door was a wide entrance the size of an office. It had sofa chairs on both sides and an office desk at a corner with a rotating chair behind it. The entire room was rather dark-themed and had more elements of black and grey than other colors. It was adorned with scarlet-red lights that glowed dimly from different corners. Several portraits framed in black refined wood hung about on the walls. The portraits were either paintings or pictures of powerful men and
Chelsea felt mixed feelings of confusion, shock and uncertainty. What Dylan said, or what he meant by what he said, seemed vague to her. She stood for some seconds, staring at him with doubt, not blinking or even breathing, to see if he would correct himself. "Sorry?" she asked, her expression becoming contorted as she sought either an affirmation or clarification. Of course, it was enough to ask. He simply smiled and gently placed the glass case on a table nearly. He gestured for her to sit down on a nearby sofa and she immediately obliged. He turned to face her and leaned on the table casually. "The job is quite simple" he began. "As my consigliere, consider this a chance to meet with some of the most powerful men in Miami and all of Florida" he added, smiling with a hint of sly. She kept mute, looking at him with expectancy for more clarification. "There is a man who will be expecting this package. His name is Prince Hakeem, an Arabian man of royal descent. He was here on a vi
"Alright. I'll do it" Chelsea said and stood up. "When's he arriving in Miami?" she asked.Dylan straightened up and exhaled satisfactorily. "Today" he replied. "Fine. I should get going then. Where will he be lodging?" she asked again, walking towards the table to collect the case. "The Imperial Place. That's where he'll be lodging" Dylan replied, observing her as she got to the table.She paused for seconds, inhaling and exhaling deeply. She stared at the package in front of her as though it was a symbol of judgement. She felt it strike her mind, aiding the ongoing dilemma within her. Would she deliver this job? Or would she take the ticket out and bolt away from Florida immediately?She heaved and finally grabbed the case firmly, gently lifting it off the table. It was surprisingly light. For something that contained a jewelry so powerful, valuable and expensive, yes, it was surprisingly light. She turned and walked towards the exit of the room. "Wait" she heard his voice and p