A Special Invitation
1108 Words
CADEN'S POV
Arthur wants to see you," Asher said, barging into my office without a word."You aren't exempt from knocking, Asher," I said, not looking up from my desk. "Where have you been? You look horrible."
His shirt was soaked with sweat, and his hair looked like he’d been rolling in the sand.
"I had some minor problems on my way here," he said, trying to dust off his hair.
"Not in my office," I commanded. He stopped moving immediately.
"Arthur wants to see you," he repeated.
"I heard you the first time. I already got a message from his secretary. It’s tonight at 11:00 PM."
"So, what are you going to do?" Asher asked, leaning against the wall.
"I’m going to do what I have to do. Stop asking stupid questions, Asher. And stop acting weak."
"I just don’t want to hear on the news that they found your head in the river," he said, finally taking a seat.
"If they put my head in a river, I’ll make sure someone does the same to you. We can die the same way. After all, that’s what friends are for, right?"
He looked taken aback for a second but quickly adjusted his face. "Have you heard from Alisa?"
"She’s safe. She’s at Mabel's apartment.” It’s been a week since she came to my office, which means we’re getting married in two weeks. Time is a b***h when it isn't on your side.
"Alright then. I trust you'll make the right moves," Asher said.
"Of course, Asher." I poured myself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one go. "I’m going there armed. My best men will be stationed around the estate just in case. We’ll be in constant contact until I walk out of that office."
"Good," he said.
"Now get out. You stink," I said, picking up my folders.
He rolled his eyes and walked out. I was ready for Arthur. I was actually surprised the invite took this long. I had been dodging my own father’s calls since the incident; I wanted to deal with the old man Geraldine first. Finally, the night had come.
The Geraldine estate was massive. I had only been there once when my father forced me to visit. As I approached the giant gates, a guard shone a heavy flashlight into my car. I didn't say a word, and he knew better than to ask. He signaled his partner, and the gates groaned open. I drove toward the main house at high speed.
"Caden, Caden. I was expecting you."
It was Austin, Arthur’s youngest brother. He met me in the foyer.
"It’s been a long time, Mr. Austin. I’m sorry about Tristan," I said. I hoped my acting was believable.
"It’s unfortunate," Austin said, staring at me as if he were looking for a confession in my eyes. "Arthur is upstairs. He’s waiting for you."
He walked away without another word. I headed for the office. Only Arthur was allowed in there unless he personally invited you. It was a room for "critical" conversations. Some people who entered that room never came out.
The door was guarded by two armed men. It was already open. They stepped aside to let me pass.
I entered. Arthur was seated behind his desk, holding a thick cigar. I would have advised him that smoking was risky for a man his age, but I honestly preferred him dead.
"Arthur," I said, walking toward him.
"Caden, my sweet boy," he said with a fake smile. "It’s so sad. I always wanted Tristan to follow in your footsteps. You were his inspiration. Did you know that?" He took a slow puff of his cigar.
"I wasn't aware of that," I said, my voice perfectly calm.
"Of course you weren't. It was never your business, right?" He glared at me.
"That’s not what I meant. I—"
"My only son and heir. Gone. Just like that," he said, looking up at the ceiling.
"My condolences. I—"
"Shut up!" Arthur snapped. He pulled out a gun and fired a shot. The bullet hissed past my ear and hit the wall behind me. I didn't move. I knew he wouldn't kill me until he got his answers.
"You think I won't do it?" he asked, chuckling darkly.
"I know you can do it," I said.
"Weren't you worried about why I hadn't reached out?"
"I figured you wanted to handle things at your own pace. I didn't want to interfere."
"There are rumors everywhere," Arthur said, his eyes turning darker. "Different names, different fingers pointing. I have evidence, but do you know what I don't have?"
"The killer," I answered.
"Exactly!" He laughed, but there was no joy in it. "I don't have the body of the person who slaughtered my son. And do you know what people are saying? They’re saying the killer might just be you."
He lifted the gun again, aiming it at my chest.
"It wasn't me," I said, keeping my heart rate steady. "I can find the person for you. I can end their entire bloodline just for you. You know I can."
He slowly lowered the gun. "Who is Alisa? And why was my son always hanging around her little flower shop?"
"You know how Tristan was. He was a flirt. He just found Alisa beautiful... just like I do." The lie came out of my mouth with total ease.
"And why didn't she ever mention she was engaged to you? I’m sure he would have stepped back."
"She didn't because I told her not to. Our relationship was private. She wanted a simple life, and I didn't want her dragged into my world."
Arthur looked down, thinking. "And how did you know Tristan was shot? You appeared there instantly."
"I didn't know. It was a coincidence. I was there to see Alisa. Fortunately, I arrived in time."
"No, you didn't!" Arthur screamed, slamming his hand on the desk. "If you had arrived in time, you would have saved my f*****g son!"
"I’m sorry. I meant I arrived in time to protect my fiancée."
Arthur laughed—a deadly, sharp sound. He picked up his phone and dialed. Someone answered on the first ring.
"So, where is she now? Since you're always 'in time' to protect her?"
"She’s where she’s supposed to be," I said, though a cold knot was forming in my stomach.
"Would you like to talk to her?" Arthur asked. He slid the phone across the desk toward me. "Give the girl the phone," he barked into the receiver.
His men were at the apartment.
Fuck.
- Writer
