Novels by Raphael Asuquo

CHAPTER TEN“You came?” Tony curled in air into his mouth, eyes brightening and jaw relaxing.He bent his head backwards. “Thank you,” he muttered, momentary joy glistening in his chest.Then getting himself and his duty; stepped aside, with a bow.“Welcome, sir,” he greeted.Mr. Famous gave him a slight nod and moved in, his guards; with covered faces following suit.Their all black monotone screamed the authority that Mr. Famous's casual dressing didn't show.“Good afternoon, sir,” Michael immediately fell on his knees, head bowed and palms neatly folded on his white trousered laps.Tony noted a shiver in his shoulders and smiled again.He wasn't surprised that the great Michael had it in him. Everyone cowered whenever they saw Mr. Famous.And Michael, no matter his status and influence would have to bow or die.He straightened up. There was no use analysing. Things were finally going as planned.“What brings you here sir?” He spoke gently, giving Linda even a harder time to proces

CHAPTER NINEWithout waiting for more words to be said, Tony pushed himself into the room, eyes wild and questioning.He chested out, and tightened his chin. He paused a bit to take in the room. It was painted white, alright, seemingly the colour of the company.“You look mentally deranged, eeww,” Michael paused with the club in hand, making a face, his back directly turned to the window.“Who are you?” He kept a steady gaze on him—more like letting disgust spread on his face.Tony stepped forward, waited, looked and took another step.“Pull off your shoes,” Michael ordered, pointing his club at him. But Tony took in his white shirt and grey pants flippantly, already judging him to be someone weak. He waved through, almost bumping on the security guard, the one that stood at the corner without moving.He regained his bearings and went further, stopping at the office’s middle, the midpoint, where the long black leather sofas lined.“It's time for you to handover,” he said, noting the

CHAPTER EIGHT They were required to wait for an hour on another sofa ten times more expensive than Linda's.It could've been exquisitely gold. But it wasn't. It was white but not like Linda's plain white.It was dove white with the decoration of two turtledoves.Tony recognized the emblem.“That's how it's done,” Linda said, relaxing her back on the couch, her arms resting on the side of the sofa's arm.Someone walked out the door, a female dressed rather too skimpy. But she bowed to Linda and she nodded back, still relaxed.“He needs time to prepare himself for every meeting,” her voice came up sharply.Tony surely must have heard stranger things. The world outside the mountains was really a different world.What did she mean by ‘he needs time to prepare himself?” Time to prepare himself for what? Was he going to run a marathon?The questions racked his brain.What sort of preparation would take a whole hour?He met Cassie's eyes and he could read the weariness in it. He felt pity

CHAPTER SEVEN.“Since when did you start mingling with thugs?” Linda, the secretary, eyed Cassie, disgustedly, contempt swelling in her neck with every step he took.“He's not a thug,” Cassie defended, trying to wrap her hands around his waist. He shrunk, moving slightly away.Embarrassed more due to her arms not being long enough than his adjusting, she moved with longer strides to a seat.She couldn't sit. There was no way for that.But the message was passed. Linda understood.“Have a seat,” she said, finally, crunching her nose as he sat on the white sofa. The very one she cherished and worshipped the most.She muttered a curse under her breath, more on Cassie and a little less than half of that for Tony.Then, she fell into silence.Cassie cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. It suddenly felt too hot. It was something in the air. She was sure of it.It made her sweat on her back. And made it itch. But she dared not scratch, not with Linda's eagle eyes on her“I've come to

CHAPTER SIX “What?” Tony bawled with mouth agape, his stomach churning with the preposterous statement. He swallowed hard. No, he hadn't heard well. Did she just make fun of him? He shook his head, giving the stony feeling in his chest to melt away.“You're saying —”“That I believe I can help you write a script for,” she smiled warmly, her blazing red lip gloss reflecting the humour in her eyes.“You, see, I'm a script writer and movie director. I can do that for you,” she inserted her long nails into her curly hair.He felt his heart catch fire, a harsh fire that brewed a sore throat in her neck.The words were in his lips, sharp and sore, but he held them back, letting them stay put where they belonged.He shook his head and turned away, eyes downcast and lost of all its brightness but not missing the determination.That smell of soot from his home would not allow him to disappoint his parents even if he wanted to. It lurked around him like a ghost.Then the air suddenly began to

CHAPTER FIVE “Technically, yes. I'm the CEO,” he said, looking tiredly at her, letting her last question slip by.He had no energy to explain himself to a woman ready to bicker at every given chance.He indeed recognized her.Who else but that lady in distress? Who else would pull such a near-stunt on him? In fact, who else in the world would begin a meeting with an insult?Who else but that brown haired pretty girl? He sighed again feeling a nagging headache's preparation as she got ready to speak again.“Then I'm asking, why are you left to wander the street like a mentally deranged sheep when you have such a wonderful company building over there?” She pursed her lips, her cheeks struggling to hide the bulging laughter.“I mean, if you're the CEO of this great company,” her hands went to the direction of the building he had taken steps away from.“You really should have a chauffeur. No, that's too grand. At least, a car,” she eyed his torn sneakers and made a face.“Yuk” she made

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWORoseline watched the ambulance van pull away, with mixed feelings. Not like the mixed feelings were something to be alarmed about. It was just sadness and happiness.She was sad that he had to go through such a traumatizing incident but glad that she had been able to make it in time before he crashed his skull open.She watched the van until it disappeared from her sight, from the lonely road that branched away from her father's usual slaughterhouse.She had not had time to assure him of her love, to placate the fear that still lingered in his eyes.She could only imagine the fear that sliced through his heart. She shuddered, realizing that the same fear was working wonders in her too.She chose not to think about the shock that still hovered around, despite the amount of fear that sizzled in his eyes like electricity.He probably must have tried to make the connections by now. She shook her head sadly. She should've thought farther about this situation her dad ha

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONEDavid had only to close his eyes for gravity to let him crash to the floor. He noticed the whooshing sound heightening but almost did not get it when it vanished. But he could at least tell that the flapping had ended and that he had met his doom.He waited for a trumpet sound; something to signal his entry into heaven or even hell. There was none. He waited longer. Maybe there was some delay in transmission. An angel must have forgotten to place him where he's supposed to be.But there still was no trumpet, not even its equivalent in hell; bull's moo. There was nothing. His childhood memory of the church was feeling threatened by this long silence.Then he heard the sound, sounds, the panic around. The screams and manly breath heaving.Commands flew everywhere, banging his ear drums with the stress on the different objects of the sentence.“Get him this, get him—” the sound got muffled by a movement around him.Someone was trying to pull him up, or was the perso

CHAPTER THIRTY.“Your time is up,” Mr. Denver’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with weakness that David doubted could show on his face.He swallowed hard. He could hear but could not see. But he didn't need to see to know who was speaking. He had seen him through the peephole. Common sense should have warned him of the strangeness of the visit. But he had smiled it off; glad to see him.He now wondered painfully, what about Mr. Denver's presence could ever cause him to smile?Bitterness swelled in his throat, spreading to his tongue. His chest compressed. He struggled to breath as the enormousness of his stupidity fell on him.He was the dumbest secret agent to ever live. He was for real, the worst. How could he have been so vulnerable? The thought sliced through him with embarrassment. He preferred his face covered. He didn't want to see any emotion play out on the man's face nor did he wish to be seen.“Didn't you hear me?” The voice rose. “I said, your time is up.” His

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINERoseline pulled the covers. The black cover cloth served its purpose. It was the best part of the escapade. A cloth not as soft as the usual one worn but also not as hard and brittle as a bucket. It was the perfect in-between. The perfect one that could fit even a giant's head.Sandra's red hair sprawled out; scattered and disorganized. That perfect cloth had accommodated that mass of hair.Her head fell on her chest, weak, just like her rotational neck. It was bare; both her chest and her arms were bare.As to why she would still have a nightdress on when the time had been running to 10 AM, was a question Roseline didn't try to waste her time thinking of.She dwelled on more present things.The room was stuffy and there were cobwebs around. It might not have been perfect for a bedroom, but it actually wasn't small in size. It was enough for four abductees to fit in together with each of their killers.There was no ceiling, the cobwebs took its place.She had not

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTDavid sat with his chin in his right palm, his pajamas loose around the wrist but firm at the elbow area.His eyes reflected the red in blood, puffy like buns and dark as clay. His head ached; the position helped reduce that ache.Sunrise met him in the same position, motionless, staring into space.Life had happened to him. Thankfully Roseline and he had not yet taken their marriage seriously. They were at liberty to be wherever they wanted. He had not complained although he was surprised.It didn't show the love he thought Roseline had for him. She had always been all over him. But now, she seemed very distant.She barely met his eyes nor looked lovingly at his direction. The looks she gave him were usually looks of calculation and sometimes, regret.They had not even had sex yet. The closest they had been to sex, was the evening Sandra's madness had reached its peak; the evening she appeared naked as a hairless cat and Roseline had to go naked to send her away

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENSandra cracked a smile in her dream, her heart beat normalizing and her tongue relaxing.It was the first time in years. Such a therapeutic feeling had eluded her for years. She relaxed her head more on the pillow, her silk nightdress, together with the comfy cotton bedsheets made the sleep sweeter.She could remain that way forever. But time was up. It was work-day. No laziness would succeed in keeping her pressed to the bed.However, she maintained that smile till she woke up.The sun was already up before her. So its brightness was allowed to slap her hard on the face and erase the lazy sleep that still clouded her lashes. She breathed in, savouring the cold morning air, whisking with the brightness of the sun. She didn't mind. She had gotten what she needed. The file had been destroyed. The source of Fiona's condescension had been removed successfully.Fiona would hold no claim to her destiny anymore. She would be placed where she belonged; without having a