Mafia King's Fatal Lover

Chapter12 Informant

The man’s neck was in her hand. He could not move because of the suffocating.

During the struggle, a sharp graceful curve of the jaw line exposed from the cap which was tilted low.

“Mylan?” Elektra was startled and released him.

Mylan took a deep breath. He held the wall and panted for a while before calming down.

The lake blue eyes looked over and glowed under the streetlights.

“You... Ahem...” he stood up and said in surprise, “Since when you became good at fighting...”

“...” Elektra rubbed her nose, “Why the hell did you tail me? For God’s sake why you didn’t answer the phone?”

Mylan paused for a second. He suddenly thought of something and felt around in his pockets, saying, "As soon as you returned to New York, an informant informed me. I couldn't reach you by phone, so I had to try my luck."

He continued, "I think I’d forgot my cell phone when I left the house."

Elektra didn't want to say anything else. She glanced around quickly and told Mylan in a low voice what had happened recently.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Mylan was worried and wanted to check on Elektra, but she turned away.

The hand was in mid-air, something embarrassing.

“I was thinking...” the man's voice was low and soft, with a special attractiveness, “I was thinking, if you want to... quit the job now.”

“Why? !”

Mylan quickly reminded her to watch out. Then he exchanged their position as she moved slightly. His body came over and sheltered Elektra, blocking her between him and the wall.

This posture was really flirtatious. Both of them stunned at the same time, and took a step back.

“Because I'm worried about you.” he said, with his eyes soft and tender.

However, as soon as he said that, Mylan seemed to feel that something was amiss. He continued hesitantly, “It's also because Abel Hill is tricky. If you get too close to him, I'm afraid he’ll....”

“Kill me?” Elektra looked up at him and confessed, “At first, he did want to get rid of me. But...”

Elektra paused. With her dark eyes moving around, a layer of gloomy image appeared in her mind.

“But I don't know why, I don't think he wants to lay his hands on me right now. It seems that he... wants to pump me for something more.

The breath above her head was disorderly.

Elektra sensed Mylan's inexplicable tension and loss.

“Let me try.” she looked at him, ignoring his mood.

There was silence in both of them. The street lamp overhead flashed, as if a quiet reminder to move on.

Mylan smiled helplessly, and said in a gentle tone, “Elek...”

With a sigh, he pressed down again. His silhouette was close at hand and his intimate breath lingering above.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Elektra’s eyes became darker. She wanted to avoid his gaze, but her chin was clasped by him.

Mylan continued, regardless of her evasiveness. “We both know there are many ways he could get to you, and I don't think Marta would want to...”

“Mylan.”

Elektra interrupted him in a determined tone.

Mylan had to shut his mouth now.

The atmosphere was like a ship touching a reef - only a lonely yellow light from a distant lighthouse. The night was dark. The future was uncertain. They had to make lies sound pretty for each other so that they could move on further.

Elektra pushed him away, and she pulled the collar of her outer garment.

As she turned sideways, her wrist was caught.

In the dim light, a pair of lake blue eyes evinced a soft and caring smile.

Mylan sighed as his eyes fell on the pendant around Elektra's neck.

“It's not your fault that Marta is dead. Don't punish yourself this way.”

Elektra did not answer his question. She pulled back her hand, but was dragged back by a strong force.

It was of little use struggling any more, as the arms that bound her were tightening.

“I’m regretful to say that I dragged you into this situation.”

Mylan murmured with a somewhat displeased and chuckling tone. His breath was hovering above her head, intimately tantalizing.

“I chose it. It's none of your business.”

“But I’m worried about you...”

“Mylan.” Elektra interrupted, “I should take leave of you now. Vito will get me in trouble if I'm late.”

The hand on her waist finally loosened.

Mylan gave her a light pat on the back. He grunted with a bitter smile, which melted away into the choo choo train behind.

*

The lights waned. The white windows in the carriage were wandering in the city’s high-rise buildings and neon, like a mysterious snake.

Abel put down the gauze curtain in his hand, returned from the window to the sofa. Vito was pushing the door from outside.

“Boss." he said as he handed the phone to Abel, "It's Senator Murphy."

As expected, Abel was not surprised. He took the phone and leaned back against the windowsill.

Another train vanished into light which was flying in front of his eyes. Abel waited, and didn’t say a word at all.

The person on the other side finally gave up. Before everything got started, his momentum had already lost. There came Murphy’s gloomy voice, “Fine, what’s your condition?”

When the corner of his lip was lifted, Abel asked, “Do you really think you are qualified to talk about terms with me now?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Murphy's voice came through again.

"I can help you get rid of Nano. If when I get back to the Senate, things that I've given to Nano will be given to you unconditionally."

Abel didn’t show much interest in his proposal.

“Then why don't you tell me who is Nano's undercover?" asked Abel.

There was another muteness.

The surrounding was quiet. Only the sizzling sound of electric current could be heard.

After a long while, Murphy gave a name slowly. Abel frowned, kneaded his brow with a half clenched fist.

"And the evidence you have..." Murphy hesitated for a moment, but kept asking.

Abel looked out of the window and said indifferently, “Sir, you must understand that I don't keep suspicious, useless, or dishonorable people around." He paused for a while and continued, "Mr. Murphy are all of them.”

After a stifling silence, a man’s voice of begging for mercy came form the other end.

Abel had seen too much of dying struggle at the last minute.

He simply hung up and turned around to look for Vito. He was coming with a green face.

"Boss..." he said weakly, his voice was like that of gnats, "Miss Garner..."

The hand that was arranging the cuff stopped, Abel swept over coldly, "What?"

"She..." Vito continued, "She's downstairs, fighting with some minions.”

*

The penthouse in Hudson Square Tower has the tallest private terrace in New York City.

When Abel came down the stairs, what he saw was a few people working together to pull up a guy who was hanging up a rail outside the party.

The room was a mess, with wine flowing down marble tiles and broken glass. Whisky bottles are everywhere.

Elektra fell against the wall in the chaos, holding a piece of blood-stained antique alloy stick.

Abel was in a trance a while, but suddenly recalled that this is the decoration of his liquor cabinet in the meeting room...

"What the hell is going on?"

His face was sullen and voice emotionless. Everyone on the spot was stunned by his question.

The man who’d been pulled back was still in a state of shock. He hit out at “b***h” and threw his fist at Elektra again.

But the next moment, he was stifled by Abel in the neck and thrown back to the crowd.

The cold eye swept over like a whip, silencing all in just a second.

"Spill it."

The deep voice resounded again. But this time everybody found that Abel was asking Elektra.

She was silently sitting in the corner and finally raised her head, with eyes that could hardly hide the grudge and grievance.

Elektra did not answer Abel. She leaned over, picked up the necklace which had been broken into two from the ground.

With a tiny twist in his heart, Abel could not help but frown a bit.

“You,” he gave it up, turning to Vito.

Vito went over furiously, and kicked the man who was very abusive minutes ago.

“What are you f*****g doing? ! You can not control your c**k nor found a right place? What do you think of this place? A whorehouse? You are f*****g tired of living!”

He avoided the point, but Abel understood.

These guys must have coveted Elektra’s beauty. Plus she was new here and being alone, so that they thought they could take advantage of her.

The sharp eyebrow frowned more tightly, Abel’s expression was visibly gloomy. He put his hand over Vito's shoulder and asked, “Where’s the room you gave her?”

Vito was startled, and noticed the danger hidden from the question. But he didn't dare to lie. He forced himself to point to a small compartment behind the stairs.

Those rooms were prepared for Abel's bodyguards.

It was of no problem with Vito’s arrangement, but he absolutely forgot the fact that Elektra was a woman, arranging her to live with a bunch of men...

Abel was getting fidgety gratuitously. There was a fire starting in his heart, but he could not find a reason to vent it out - defending a woman never being his style.

So he took his anger out on Vito. Abel glanced at those punch-drunk men in front of him and asked Vito coldly, “These are the rubbish you trained? Can't beat a woman with five or six of ‘em guys.”

Everyone was suddenly as silent as the grave.

He paused, slowed downs hit and said again, “So it seems being my bodyguard is easy money eh?”

Vito felt a shiver in his spine. The sweats on his forehead had already dripped to his chin down the temples.

“Now that your fighting is so schlock, the practice should be more intensified.” Abel looked at Vito and added, “I’ll give a proper lesson to ‘em all.”

Everyone, “..."

Then he turned and kicked away the broken glass in front of him. In the corner of the wall, he caught a glimpse of the thin shadow and ordered. “Pack your belongings.”

“Meet me upstairs.”