004: hate wasting time

Japheth POV

We drove away from that mess and, after a few mInutes, reached the prIvate Irstrip where my jet waited. 1 stepped out of the car with my bodyguards and climbed aboard, makIng myself comfortable, until my phone started vibrating.

“Goddamn thIs annoying device,” 1 muttered, fishing it from my pocket. The name on the screen annoyed me before 1 even answered.

“What do you want now?” 1 barked.

“This is how you speak to your father?” His voice, sharp and naggIng, came from the other end. 1 smacked my forehead in Irritation and, clenching my fist, forced a polite tone. “I’ have boarded the plane.”

“Okay then, have a nice trip. We’re going to Chairman Mark Chris’s mansion to get your fiancée’s signature on the contract.” He hung up, leaving me in a swell of numb fury. I had promised myself I will never marry, yet here I was, being forced Into a union with a woman I’d never met. The thought made my blood heat. I rested my head against the seat as the plane lifted off.

An hour later we landed at a private pad near my estate. The property spread out: luxury parking, helicopter pads, a wide lawn where aircraft sat, a pool, and a rose garden. Alex met me on the tarmac.

“What’s the demand?” 1 asked as we slid into the car.

“They don’t have a demand, they changed their mind,” Alex said, climbing in. He showed me the location John Williams had called us to meet. A slow, dangerous chuckle crept up my throat. John dared to stall us, today he’d learn what that cost.

We arrived at an abandoned development. One helicopter already sat on the landing; John’s men were visible, rifles slung. Alex and I stepped from the car, but two of John’s guards blocked the entrance.

“Boss only wants to talk with Mr. Japheth Lukers,” one said bluntly. I clenched my jaw. “Alex, wait.” 1 shoved past them and strode upstairs.

From shadow stepped a middle-aged man, round-faced, bald, and smug. “Mr. Lukers,” he sneered. “I thought you’d be busy with your marriage.”

“John, what’s your demand?” I asked, casual. He laughed, a provocation. One of his bodyguards leveled a gun. “Hey, no guns,” I warned, amused. I produced a cigarette from a silver case, lit it, and let smoke curl toward them. “Sign the deal or don’t. I don’t like wasting time.” I exhaled, letting the smoke wash over the room. The land John held was crucial for my family’s weapons project; we needed it.

“I said I won’t sign,” John spat. “I’m not afraid of your bloody organization.” His pride was a provocation. “Guards, take him away.” He ordered them to seize me. Ten men closed in, rifles raised. I took a final drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out, and raised my hands, then let the chaos begin.

Their first move was clumsy. A guard lunged; I moved like a blade, kick, punch, a throw. The air filled with the sound of bodies meeting concrete. I twisted a man’s neck, disarmed another, and in the scramble shot one man’s leg to halt him. Blood ran from the wound, and a stunned bark escaped John. “Just do as he says,” one guard stammered.

“Throw your weapons out the windows,” I said, voice low. The men complied, flinging rifles aside. John saw the tide turn and tried to fight back, he punched and fled toward his men. I cursed, kicked a man who approached, and kept moving; a headshot felled one attacker, and another went down under my hands. Two men charged; I dodged, struck them in the ribs until they folded.

More men came at me. I leapt and struck, each move precise and efficient. When the last of his closest guards fell, I stared at John, who stood shaking. Probably he’d never imagined I’d dismantle his defenses in minutes. I closed the distance and watched him cower. He dropped to his knees. “Please, sign it! Spare me,” he begged. The sound of desperation was delicious.

“Didn’t I ask you politely to sign?” I snarled. I kicked hIm to the floor; his weight hit the wall with a sick thud. I dragged a chair close, grabbed his face, and forced hIm up until hIs eyes met mine. I pressed the barrel of my gun to his forehead. “Should I kill you and toss you off this thirty-story building?” I asked, amusement thin in my voice. He whimpered.

I produced the contract from my inner pocket. “Sign it,” I ordered, sliding the pen and paper toward him. He snatched them and scribbled his name in trembling strokes. The sight of his signature made a hollow satisfaction bloom in me. I snatched the paper back and slipped it safely into my coat.

“Please, let me go now that I have signed,” he begged, crawling on his knees with the injured leg.

“Absolutely not,” I said. “John, you need to disappear.” I fired two shots. They hit him; he collapsed, motionless. No theatrics just the finality of a man who’d gambled and lost. I checked the room quickly, then dragged his body to the broken window and pushed it out. The wind took hIm.

“Sleep well, John,” I said, and left the room as calmly as I’d entered.

The elevator doors opened and Alex stepped in, wiping blood from my face and arms with a handkerchief. My phone buzzed again. “Who’s trying to piss me off now?” I asked. Alex’s grin told me everything. “Twenty missed calls?” he said, smirking. He hadn’t told her I’d been drinking on an empty stomach, had he? “Did you tell her I drank again?” I demanded.

“Yeah,” he admitted, unashamed.

I shook my head and handed orders. “Dispose of the bodies. I need to meet my mother before she stages a national search for me.” Alex saluted. “Have fun with Madame.”

“Jerk,” he called as I walked away. “I’ll see you later.”