Chronicles Of The Billionaire.

The house was as I remembered it, except there used to be fewer employees around. The mansion had been in the family forever, my family lived and died in the building for generations. The Danjumas were one of the first settlers and one of the oldest families in the city. The walls of the main house are full of old paintings, most of them portraits of old masters of the house, dating from the first to the last, my father.I stared at the paintings for a moment, blocking out Khalid's voice. "The master's bedroom has been prepared for you, son," he finally said,  slapping me on the shoulder to bring me back to the present."Oh, thank you, Khalid," I replied, startled by the sudden feel of his hand on my shoulder.I was thinking about how much I hated the house as a kid. Oh, I hated everything about it. The quietness made me want to lose my mind, even when my mother was alive. She was sickly and always looked unhappy. Dad was never around, and how could h

I was bleeding out on the alley, and I thought that was it. I was about to meet my maker, and I was expecting the flashes of your life that comes before the total, final darkness of cessation. All the regrets of my past missteps came flushing in and in that moment, I realized how my father must have felt when he visited me for the last time, and I felt ashamed of my behavior towards him."Hey, man. You got fucked up pretty bad," a voice broke my line of thought. I strained my sight, trying so hard to see who it was but I was so empty of the strength to even open my eyes, and so, I slowly gave in to the darkness.When I woke up, I found myself laid back on my bed, with an IV stuck into my right arm. I tried to move, but the sharp pain I felt made me stop instantly."Hello, Dan. I am Dr. James, your family physician. You were shot on your left side, the hip bone, just under your ribs. You were lucky the bullet didn't sever an artery and it also didn't damage any orga

I stalked the bartender at Ralphs for two weeks, learning his routines. The man was named Taiye Mark. He left his home in Kings Avenue by seven, took his kids, a boy and a girl to school on Oosha street. He sometimes checked up on his girlfriend on Westview street, he stayed there for at least an hour and then by ten in the morning he would have been at the bar opening up. People in the city starts to drink as early as possible which is understandable. When you have a city filled with hopeless poor people who work their asses off and get nothing for it, the result is that you have a lot of irresponsible drunks around. People started coming to the bar immediately Mark opened its doors, so I wouldn't have had much time to interrogate him in the bar before we would have been interrupted. I decided to wait for him after closing hours around twelve a.m. in the morning. The parking lot was the best place to have a conversation with him, once he got into his car. Mark was a runner, and I w