Cocaine & Caviar

Chapter Six

Flint watched that back and derrière vanish into a sleek matron-coloured Benz and drive off.

Rage fired up within him and Max reared up swiftly to the occasion. Responding in like manner.

Now he knew the word desperate.

A low whistle from behind alerted him to company. “That’s piping hot,” Ian whistled, stepping up by his side and stressing the ‘hot’.

Wordlessly, and painfully slowly, Flint faced him.

Ian oblivious of how close he was to becoming headless, started to turn around - and jumped in shock. “Aiyi ! What was that for?”

Ticking silence .

“It’s not like she’s your mate or some thing -,” Ian began, calling Flint out for his attitude. “Wait. She is?”

Resigned silence.

“She’s your mate?”

**************************************************

There were times when a mean well-placed letter was just as needed to serve the purpose of a nuclear weapon. This was one of such times.

Vincentian stared wordlessly as Drew perused the letters splashed across the bright computer screen.

Drew exhaled deeply and leaned back on the swiveling chair, rocking it.

“You good with it?” Vincentian asked.

Drew nodded in a sage manner, gaze still locked on the words on the screen. “Perfect,” she answered, almost distractedly.

“You sure you want to be there?” Vincentia asked worries after a slight hesitation. “I mean the bond is still intact and you still suffer his infidelity.”

Deep in thoughts, Drew tapped the desk with her small nail. The tapping sound a chorus to the hum of office engines around them.

“He’s finally accepting, or rather broadcasting, his dubioucity,” Drew finally said. “It would be impolite to reject his invitation.” She leaned her head back to peer against Vincentian. “And you know how I loathe impoliteness. I wouldn’t want to be seen as impolite.”

“Heavens forbid it,” Vincentia chipped in clearly displeased.

“Come now, Vincentia. It would be good for us.”

A brow arched in mocking query.

“You know,” Drew continued. “Business and the likes -“

A derisive snort.

“And then you could catch a good glimpse of good ol’ Flint once again.”

Vincentia’s shoulders stiffened.

Drew swiveled around to face her. “You should give him a chance,” she said. “Weigh what he has laid out on the table.” She changed gears. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

Vincentian sniffed.

“Honest,” Drew said. “He’s just not a hard talker.”

Vincentia’s deep blue eyes narrowed down at her. “You’re not speaking English.” And leaned forward to commence printing.

“The fact that Duncan failed to listen to the few words of wisdom from him, does not discredit his efforts and the passion in his heart,” Drew crusaded. “You should know,” she added, hinting with evasive intent at Vincentia’s sordid past.

The matter stiffened instinctively at the slight mention.

Drew heaved a heavy sigh. “You mustn’t settle for the lonely, chaotic path I tread, Vincentia.”

Vincentia’s sigh was theatrical. “And you?”

A far-too-sweet smile stretched Drew’s auburn-hued lips. “You never can tell,” she answered in a theatrical whisper.

Vincentian mumbled something along the lines of not believing anything of the sort that came from her mouth.

Not after all that had happened.

It was a merry day and all of Durrow pack waited in great anticipation to tear down the walls in intense celebratory spirits.

Everywhere and every part of the pack was nicely decorated in bright colors underlined by the pack’s colors: bold and I deterred. The main house , however, bore the brunt of the festive spirit. Every corner was intricately adorned, and everywhere glistened with unbridled joy.

And right under all these ambiance and surreal beauty, stood the stars of the moment: Alpha Duncan Wolfe and his new bride, Felisita Noles, exchanging loving sweet smiles after vows to love and respect one another forever were sworn.

Cheers, ribbons, balloons, rice and confetti filled the air at the shirt sealing kids and the merry couple poised for a photograph, accepting congratulatory words and well-wishes.

The very air pulsated and heaved with joy.

And then, like it never was, it all died down. Leaving the hall reverberating with the echoes of heels and boots; and heaved with the withheld breathes. Not a muscle moved.

A path wide enough for to take ten armed men materialized very suddenly, as if sprang from a church aged wand, as people fell back in stunned silence and shock, amidst abated breathes.

Red.