Seventeen

Alaric Rodrigo paced up and down in his penthouse his thoughts drifting to a certain young woman. This woman, he mused, would be an obstacle to his plans and he hated obstacles.

But why he hadn't ordered for her immediate elimination was what he couldn't fathom. Probably because he hadn't expected anyone to say no to such a huge sum of money.

He grabbed his glass and downed his drink in one gulp. The hot whisky went down his throat burning him but hell it felt good as his eyes stung from unshed tears

The incessant ringing tone of his phone irritated him and he grabbed the phone. His grandson's name flashed on the screen.

"Speak."

"What's this I'm hearing about Dante?"