The Billionaire's Portrait of Love

Jessica walked down the lonely street towards home. She suddenly heard voices coming up a dark alleyway. She cautiously drew closer and peered from behind a wall.

“Give us the pendrive,” a man in a mask said. “Don’t waste our time! We know you have it on you.”

He struck a man kneeling before him across the face with the butt of a gun. The man fell on the floor writhing in pain.

“You have 60 seconds to give it to us or yet still, tell us where you’ve hidden it, or we are going to kill you and go after everyone associated with you.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the man on the floor said. “I don’t know of any pendrive. Please believe me.”

“The clock is ticking, Mr. Arnault. Tick tock. Tick tock. You have about 45 seconds more,” another man in a mask, possibly an accomplice of the first said. His posture and deep baritone voice seemed to suggest that he was the leader.

“Please, you have the wrong guy. Is it money you want? I have money, plenty of it,” he continued to plead.”

“We are professional hitmen, and we have never made a mistake with our target. You are Mr. Sam Arnault, a billionaire and heir of the famed chain art galleries in the country, Arnault and Kohn Art Galleries. You live in a gated community at 202 street, West avenue. You are rich enough to hire an army as your personal security detail, but you walk alone, preferring to be conspicuous and not draw attention to yourself. Should I continue?” the second man said.

Jessica gasped when she heard the name of the company. It was one of the state-of-the-art galleries that showcased and dealt in arts, paintings and unique artifacts. She knew of this because she was an artist herself. She couldn’t believe that this is one of the cofounders, Sam Arnault, being attacked.

“Professional hitmen? Did someone hire you to do this? How much did he pay you? I double… no I’ll give you 10 times the amount. Name your price,” the man begged.

“You insult us Mr. Arnault. It’s not about the money. Believe it or not, we are men of honor and we never betray our clients. We are not after your money. You have a pendrive in your possession that our client needs. Give it to us and we’ll be on our way.”

“I keep telling you that I don’t know what you are referring to. At least give me a clue of the contents of the drive,” Sam Arnault said.

“We are not privy to that information, Mr. Arnault. You have 20 seconds more,” the second hitman said.

Her heart pounding loudly, Jessica wondered what to do. Even if she dialed 911, he would be killed before the police got here. She couldn’t barge in. she will definitely be killed as well for being a witness. She stood rooted to the spot in fear.

“Wait, how about you call your client so I speak to him? Huh, how about that? I’m pretty sure your client wants the information on this drive, He wouldn’t want you killing me before obtaining it,” Mr Arnault said, desperate to make it out of the situation alive.

For a moment the assailants seemed to consider it. They began to talk in undertones for a while, all the time keeping an eye on the billionaire. They finally turned back to him.

“Alright, fortune seems to favor you, Mr Arnault. I seem to be in a charitable mood tonight. I’ll let you speak to my client. You’ll get your phone call,” the leader said.

Mr. Arnault heaved a sigh of relief. If only someone would pass by this way and call the cops. The assailants handed him the phone.

“Hello Mr. Arnault, you wanted to speak to me?” a female voice at the other end said.

“Hello, who is this? Have we met before?” Mr. Arnault said.

“Yes we have, sir but under very different circumstances. When and where we met is for another day if you survive this day. That is if you give my men what we want. Bye Mr. Arnault.”

“Wait, wait,” Mr. Arnault shrieked, “what exactly do you want? What is this pendrive they are talking about?”

“You really don’t know? Alright, let me tell you who we are and what we do. We are an international crime syndicate. Among our many activities is the trafficking of fake duplicates of famous paintings like the Mona Lisa. Many of these fakes are sold in art galleries all around the country. Our recent shipment was arranged to be sold at your gallery, but we have a snitch who recorded a video of the shipment.”

“Our men found out and he was caught. However, the recording was not on him. It had already been shipped. After a little torture, he confessed to having sent it to you. Of course the snitch is dead, but we have to cover our tracks and prevent interpol from sniffing around our organization, so our intel led us to you, Mr. Arnault. We need the recording sent to you,” the voice at the other end of the call said.

“Well, it’s quite unfortunate that you killed this snitch of yours. He lied to you. I have not received any recording of such nature, nor have I had any contact with him,” Mr. Arnault said in defense.

“You mean to say you haven’t received any recording from an unknown man?”

“I’m telling you the truth. I haven’t. This is the first time I’m hearing of such a thing”, Mr Arnault said.

“Well then, I don’t think we have any business or problem with you. Give the phone back to my men,” the voice commanded him.

Arnault handed the phone back to the head assailant. After a few minutes of hushed conversations, he ended the call and turned to face Arnault.

“We are sorry for the worries, Mr. Arnault. We were apparently tricked with the intel we received. Please accept our sincere apologies,” he told Arnault.

Arnault heaved a sigh of relief, almost in unison with Jessica was still in the shadows and observing everything.

In a sudden twist of events the assailant said, “However, there is a probability that you are lying to us. The risk of discovery of our client’s organization is too great. We need to tie every loose end.”

He cocked his pistol and reached into his jacket pocket for a silencer. Arnault gasped.

“But you just told me that I can go free,” Arnault said.

“Technically, we never said that. We only said that you may not be the person who received the recording.”

Jessica’s heart was pounding from her hiding spot in the shadows. She had used the delay tactic of Arnault to call the cops, but she couldn’t hear any sirens yet. They were about to kill the man. All she had with her was a can of pepper spray.

“Our time with you is over, Mr. Arnault. Goodbye,” the assailant said as he aimed and shot at Arnault.

Arnault screamed in pain. The assailant, aiming for the heart of Arnault had missed and shot his shoulder instead.

“Well, well , well, the gods really must favor you today, Mr. Arnault. I have never missed in my 12 years of work as a hitman. And also at such a close range? This has marred my record,” the assailant said as he squatted near Arnault.

Arnault continued to writhe on the floor in pain. Jessica thought of what she could do. She suddenly had a bright idea. Today was halloween and she had bought some firecrackers to give to her nephew at home. She quickly fished them out of her handbag and lit one.

“Alright, let’s see how lucky you can be again from this distance,” the assailant said as he placed the nozzle of his gun on the head of Arnault.

Suddenly, there were loud and multiple bangs from the shadows close by.

“Fire! Aim at the assailants,” Jessica said as she continued to light more firecrackers to simulate the sound of gunshots.

The assailants quickly took to their heels and ran towards a van they had parked close by.

“After them men. Don’t let them escape,” Jessica continued to say from her hideout.

The assailants put their van in ignition and sped off. Jessica, heart pounding, slowly emerged from the shadows. She looked around to see if they were really gone. She confirmed it as she saw the taillight of the van afar off in the darkness of the night.

She ran towards Arnault. He pulled away from her in fear, not knowing who she was.

“No. I’m here to help. I saw all that happened. Let me take a look at your wound,” she said in reassurance.

He had bled and lost some blood as his shirt was crimson red soaked in blood. He continued to groan in pain.

Don’t worry sir. I’ve called for help. An ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on.

“Where are the men who were here,” Arnault asked her.

“They have run off. They thought the loud bangs were the police,” Jessica replied.

“Thank you very much. You saved my life. I’ll repay you for your kindness,” he said to Jessica as he lost consciousness.

Jessica heard the sound of approaching sirens.