Chapter 4
1299 Words
Shirley didn't dare waste any more time. She quickly pulled out her phone and called Rosalind, explaining the situation.
"Alright, alright." Nervously, she handed over the phone and said, "Miss Martin wants to talk to you."
I took the phone and motioned for her to follow me. After confirming no one was around, I started walking toward the road.
"Miss Martin, this is Victor Woods," I introduced myself. "Tell me your location. You're in danger."
"Where are you?" Rosalind asked coldly.
Her tone made me a little uncomfortable. I truly didn't know where this place was. Besides, wasn't she worried about being attacked?
"We're in the wooded area off the main road outside Eastside Correctional Facility. We're safe for now," I replied.
"I don't want anyone following me. Handle it, then come see me," Rosalind said before hanging up.
This woman was quite interesting. Was she wary of me?
I had no choice but to return the phone to Shirley. When I got back to the car, I realized it was stuck in a ditch. Moving forward was impossible, but reversing wasn't out of the question.
"Get in the car. Take me to see Miss Martin." I slammed the door, started the car, reversed out, and spun it around before heading off.
Shirley was stunned, clearly not expecting me to get the car out. She slapped my shoulder and shouted, "Wow! I didn't expect you to be so cool. You actually pulled that off. Impressive!"
I pointed at the intersection ahead and asked, "Can you take me to see Miss Martin now?"
"No problem. Follow me." Shirley leaned in close, pointing ahead and shouting directions. At this point, she was practically hanging onto me.
Her s*xy cleavage was right in front of me, making me want to press my face against it.
Eventually, we arrived at a gas station. Shirley switched to another car, filled it up with gas, and continued driving with me.
After circling around countless times, we finally stopped in front of a hotel. Shirley became cautious, checking to make sure no one was following before heading to the elevator. She went straight to the 12th floor.
In front of a presidential suite, she rang the doorbell. The door opened, and a waft of fragrance greeted us. A blonde beauty with disheveled hair appeared.
She was wearing a thin silk robe, her figure stunning enough to make any man's heart race.
'Here we go again,' I thought. Although I could control myself, after spending six years in Eastside Correctional Facility, it would be a lie to say I wasn't tempted.
The blonde beauty curled her finger, beckoning me as she turned and walked inside. Just as I was about to object, she behind me sneered, "This is Miss Martin's gift to you. Enjoy yourself. Call me when you're done."
With that, she handed me a phone and left casually.
It seemed Rosalind wasn't clueless after all. She even tried to bribe me with a beauty, and it worked.
I didn't hold back and spent a beautiful hour with the blonde woman. Feeling satisfied, I changed into the prepared clothes, put on sunglasses, and stepped out.
Shirley was waiting in the car. When we met again, she showed no shame and even asked if I was satisfied with the service.
Was she always this forward?
I didn't want to waste time with her. I just wanted to meet Rosalind as soon as possible and figure out who wanted her dead.
"My name is Shirley. Brady is my father," she said confidently before driving off.
Brady's daughter was definitely a significant figure in the Fighters. Rosalind sending her to pick me up showed she valued me.
The car stopped in front of a pharmacy in Chevonia Town. Shirley greeted the shopkeeper before heading inside.
The pharmacy was filled with herbal medicines. The shopkeeper, dressed in a suit and wearing reading glasses, had a distinctly Chevonian appearance.
We passed through the pharmacy and entered the backyard, which was designed like a traditional courtyard, exuding a strong cultural vibe.
Shirley led me to a study. An older man walked out, and Shirley quickly greeted him, "Dad, I've brought Victor Woods."
"Alright, you can leave now," the man, dressed in a suit with short hair, responded.
Shirley called him "Dad," so he must be Brady. I nodded slightly and greeted him, "Hello, sir."
Brady glanced at me, looking somewhat curious, but since Shirley had picked me up, he simply nodded and said, "Victor Woods, I've heard about your situation. Mr. Martin values you because of your identity. Don't disappoint him."
I didn't give him any grand promises. I just nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
Pushing open the door, I was greeted by the scent of sandalwood. The tastefully decorated room had an air of sophistication. A well-dressed woman sat at the desk, brewing coffee.
"Mr. Woods, this is Miss Rosalind Martin, the leader of the Fighters," Brady introduced.
I nodded slightly and said, "Hello, Miss Martin, I'm Victor Woods."
Rosalind didn't get up but kept flipping through my file.
From the look in her eyes, I could sense distrust.
It wasn't surprising—why would her father trust someone like me in a complicated city like Northvale?
She didn't have to believe in me, but I wasn't about to break my promise. Lighting a cigarette, I smirked and said, "I consider Mike my mentor. I treat him like my family. I'll keep the promises I made to him."
Rosalind still didn't say a word. I took a drag from my cigarette and studied her. She had thick eyebrows, big eyes, a delicate oval face, and s*xy rosy lips that were undeniably alluring.
Her face bore a strong resemblance to Mike's, especially her eyes which carried a certain charm. But she lacked the decisiveness and commanding presence that Mike had.
Mike asked me to assist Rosalind precisely because she lacked experience. She needed someone to back her up.
As for Brady, he might have been capable once, but judging by his age, he was clearly past his prime. The ambition he once had was long gone, and he wasn't in any position to lead the Fighters back to glory.
That was why my arrival was necessary.
Brady didn't say anything either. He didn't have the demeanor of a butler but rather that of a servant waiting for orders.
I couldn't quite figure it out. Was it really just because age had caught up to him, or had he lost his courage along the way?
As my cigarette burned down to the filter, Rosalind finally looked up.
"Thank you for your help. The Fighters won't let you down," she said flatly, then turned to Brady. "Brady, take him to the casino. They need a guard like him over there."
"Sure, Miss Martin," Brady replied respectfully, extending a hand toward me. "Mr. Woods, please follow me."
Brady's gaze carried a faint trace of pity, though he didn't dare voice it.
I sneered, snuffed out the cigarette with my bare hand, stood up, and asked Rosalind, "Miss Martin, do you think I'm just here for a job?"
"What's the problem?" Rosalind shot back.
I'd worked for Mike for six years. If I couldn't see through a situation like this, would he have chosen me in the first place?
"First, you don't trust me and think I'm incapable of helping you. Second, you're in deep trouble right now and don't want to waste too much time on me. But because of your father's instructions, you're just throwing me some random task to keep me busy," I pointed out.
I chuckled. "You can look down on me, but I won't let Mike's plan for me to help you go to waste. I can solve the crisis you're facing."
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