0018
1642 Words
Thomas waved his hand, dismissing Henry, his eyes never leaving the woman, his gaze deep and unreadable.
Thomas shot him a cold glance, and Henry immediately shut his mouth, quickly removing Thomas's suit jacket and draping it over his arm.
They entered the hall, where only one woman occupied the chairman's seat at the far end of the room.
Thomas's gaze locked onto her, his eyes sharp as blades, though they flickered uncertainly for a brief moment.
Following his gaze, Henry saw a woman with short, neatly styled hair, a delicate, heart-shaped face, and dressed in a long black robe that nearly touched the floor.
Around her neck, an out-of-place necklace hung, carved from the finest jade into the shape of the letter "K."
She wore no other accessories, making the necklace all the more eye-catching.
As the sound of footsteps echoed, the woman didn't bother to lift her gaze from the magazine in her hands.
Her lips, painted a striking shade of red, curved into a smile that could enchant the masses. She spoke softly, her tone laced with arrogance, "Mr. Thomas, it's a pleasure to finally meet. I hope I'm not too abrupt."
Her voice carried a haughty air, and her nails, painted the same crimson as her lips, hinted at the enigma she was.
Thomas waved his hand, dismissing Henry, his eyes never leaving the woman, his gaze deep and unreadable.
As Henry shut the door behind him, he couldn't help but be unnerved. From the look on Boss Thomas's face, it seemed there was more between them-something intertwined with both love and hate.
Could it be that Boss Thomas had a history with her?
"The underboss of The Mafia, the helm of the underworld, the future heir of The Mafia.." The words fell from his lips, devoid of any discernible emotion.
Thomas, with his long legs draped over the chair, sat across from the woman, legs crossed in a posture exuding regal authority.
This was his domain; he would not allow a woman to wreak havoc here.
At last, the woman lifted her head, closed the magazine, and stood up, the sharp sound of her stilettos clashing against the floor resonating through the room.
She tousled her short hair, her crimson lips splitting into a smile as she approached Thomas.
"Everything you say is correct, President Thomas!" Her slender fingers traced down the buttons of Thomas's shirt. In that moment, she leaned closer, her fiery lips nearly brushing against his face.
"But you seem to have forgotten to mention my name; I am Jasmine."
With that, she exhaled a warm breath against his ear, her hand daringly wandering lower.
Jasmine?
Thomas furrowed his brow and seized her wandering hand, applying just enough pressure to push her back, nearly causing her to collide with the conference table.
A glimmer of surprise flickered in Jasmine's eyes before vanishing, replaced by an even brighter smile as she pouted playfully, "President Thomas, you truly lack a sense of romance."
Jasmine seated herself, instinctively clutching the necklace at her chest, gently caressing it.
"Since that's the case, let us discuss business."
Thomas felt a surge of irritation; her scent lingered at the tip of his nose, exacerbating his annoyance.
"Come now, let's take advantage of her momentary distraction and slip away for a bit of fun."
"It's my idea; I'm the one who wants him to join me. If there's to be punishment, let it fall on me first."
The melodic voice of a little girl echoed in Thomas's ears, as if it had just transpired.
"President Thomas!" Jasmine interrupted, sensing her words had been dismissed, irritation creeping into her tone. "When I speak to you, I expect at least a modicum of respect."
Thomas scoffed derisively, "Save your tactics for someone else!"
Jasmine recognized the sarcasm; it intrigued her that a man had dared to speak to her in such a manner.
Rising to his feet, Thomas straightened his shirt, his dark gaze fixed on Jasmine as he impatiently stated, "If the underboss has nothing further, I shall take my leave."
He had cast aside Amelia only to endure this woman's incessant chatter?
Jasmine paused, studying Thomas's profile, her expression softening. "President Thomas, have we met before?"
Thomas stiffened, his fists clenching instinctively, veins protruding from his forehead.
He was suppressing something!
"The underboss thinks too much; how could I possibly know anyone from The Mafia?"
"Do you have a grievance against me, or perhaps against The Mafia?" Jasmine inquired with a smile.
In an instant, Thomas closed the distance, gripping Jasmine's delicate neck with just enough force to convey his dominance.
As she instinctively reached for her weapon, Thomas anticipated her move, swiftly securing her other arm to render her immobile.
After holding her for a mere minute, he released Jasmine, his calloused palm grazing her neck as a cold smile broke across his face.
"Underboss, should I take issue with you, I would deal with you directly."
Jasmine raised her hand, prepared to strike Thomas, but he caught her wrist and drew her into his embrace, holding her firmly.
"Thomas!" Jasmine shouted, her voice laced with fury.
Thomas released her, feigning innocence as he waved a hand. "I merely wished for the underboss to understand that should I have a problem with anyone, I would confront them directly, not wait for them to prattle on before me. That is also how I conduct business."
Jasmine's expression shifted; he had indeed guessed her intentions.
"You arrived unexpectedly to gauge the caliber of the group collaborating with The Mafia, didn't you? I presume you have formed some judgments."
He had seen through her ploy the moment she entered the company. If this were a professional meeting, she wouldn't have come unaccompanied by a lawyer or an assistant, instead bringing along a cadre of bodyguards.
If he wasn't mistaken, the contract between Sun International and The Mafia was nearing its expiration, making this visit a reconnaissance mission for The Mafia.
Yet he had not anticipated that the visitor would be Jasmine, the underboss of The Mafia.
Jasmine laughed heartily, "President Thomas, you are indeed a man. Since you've figured it out, I shall not feign humility; the collaboration between The Mafia and Sun International for the second quarter will proceed as usual."
Thomas did not smile but fixated on Jasmine's porcelain visage, lost in thought.
A flicker of disdain crossed Jasmine's face; men, it seemed, were utterly powerless against women. Even after putting on a façade of aloofness moments earlier, he now stared at her unblinkingly.
Before Jasmine could speak, Thomas made to leave.
She quickly called out to him; this man had repeatedly tested her patience, something no one had dared to do before.
"Thomas, halt!"
Thomas didn't even bother turning his head. "Miss Jasmine, you have no authority to command me. In our professional capacity, we are equals. Beyond that, we have no relation whatsoever."
Jasmine was so enraged that words eluded her; recalling Thomas's profile, she was certain they had crossed paths before.
But when had they met?
Thomas exited the hall and went straight to the president's office, locking the door behind him.
The soundproofing in the office was superb; with a swift gesture, Thomas sent papers, computers, and phones tumbling to the floor.
His eyes brimmed with red, he slammed his fist down onto the mahogany desk, his face a mask of anguish.
"Why? Why must it be you? Why must I bear the burden of all this?"
"It is all your doing, all because of you!" Thomas's voice strained, he collapsed into the chair, utterly defeated.
As Jasmine exited the Sun International building, she instinctively glanced upward at the top floor.
At that moment, Thomas stood atop the building, gazing down at Jasmine, a cold smile gracing his lips.
"At last, this game can truly commence!"
Jasmine saw nothing, yet felt an inexplicable pull deep within her heart.
Suddenly, a vision of a little boy flashed through her mind. Shaking her head vigorously, she clutched the necklace at her chest, a bitter smile forming as she murmured, "How could it be him? If it truly were, how could he not recognize her? It simply cannot be him."
Jasmine closed her eyes, images of guns, rushing water, and screams assailing her senses, nearly toppling her.
"Miss!"
A nearby bodyguard hurried to steady her, but Jasmine forcefully shrugged him off, coldly fixing him with a glare as she brushed off her attire where he had touched her.
"Remember, do not let your hands touch me again."
Her hand was only permitted to be touched by him alone!
"Yes!" The bodyguard broke into a cold sweat, bowing his head as he opened the door to the luxury sports car.
Suddenly , a vison of a little boy flashed through her mind. shaking her heat vigorously, she clutched the necklace at her chest, a bitter smile forming as she murmured, "How could it be him? If it truly were, how could he not recognize her? It simply cannot be him."
Jasmine closed her eyes, images of guns, rushing water, and screams assailing her senses, nearly toppling her.
"Miss!"
A nearby bodyguard hurried to steady her, but Jasmine forcefully shrugged him off, coldly fixing him with a glare as she brushed off her attire where he had touched her.
"Remember, do not let your hands touch me again."
Her hand was only permitted to be touched by him alone!
"Yes!" The bodyguard broke into a cold sweat, bowing his head as he opened the door to the luxury sports car.
Jasmine slid inside, and the convoy of opulent vehicles roared away, raising a cloud of dust in their wake.
As the caravan disappeared, Thomas finally withdrew his gaze, slowly pulling out his phone from his pocket and dialing Henry's number.
"Come up!"
- Writer
