CHAPTER XLII: THE ASSASSIN

The tall, slim surgeon in his early sixties looks worriedly at the opened package on his table. It has been sitting there for many nights and has not been moved ever since he found it on the same spot in his office.

How its messenger was able to go through his high-security system in his private villa, he still could not understand. But here's the proof staring him in the face. And to those who are unaware of the exclusive club that he is a part of, all they will see is a piece of crimson cloth lying at the bottom of a small square box.

But to him, it is meant to be a death sentence.

It just started as a means of relaxation, a personal treat that only men of power and prestige can enjoy due to money and connection. And now…

He should have seen it even before when Ted and Earl died.

Wrong word… not died... murdered.

His banker did tell him about the red cloth and wondered why his friend Earl decided to ignore it. But then again Teddy went into hiding and was still eventually found. So