The Mysterious Chairman Keith

Chapter 20

NOT LUCAS THEN WHO?

“You don’t know Lucas? Then who sent you?” Manuel asked, pausing to look at them. 

The masked men exchanged glances, as though he was speaking out of line.

“You don’t get to ask us questions!!”

The words barely left the man’s mouth before the air shifted at once. 

Manuel was the first to feel it, the pressure, not surprise or fear. His chest was burdened by a heavy, oppressive weight that caused regular men to freeze and crouch. 

His gut cried out. They weren't amateurs sent to frighten him. They moved like individuals who had committed murder in the past.

Three of them.

All dressed in black with their masks pulled over their eyes, concealing who they are.

The first one lunged.

Manuel twisted sideways and the blade sliced through where his throat was a second earlier.

The knife cut his shoulder instead, tearing his shirt into his skin, but it was too deep. 

Manuel quickly held his hand, but he didn't voice out, he stumbled, snapping back into focus.

He grabbed the table nearby and flipped it up to cover himself from the second attacker. The attacker's knife struck the wood causing a crack on it instead of his face, then he charged at the attacker.

The dragon vein hummed in his skin, as though it was trying to come out of a cage, but he couldn't use the full power yet, so he fought the old way, dirty and precise.

“I see you're tough…” one of them said, circling round Manuel. 

Manuel looked at them, studying them more closely.

Suddenly, a fist slammed into his side without warning, he cried and staggered backwards holding his rib in place. 

Another blade crossed his eyes and cut his left arm causing blood to drip to the floor. 

Manuel hissed and quickly ducked under a chair and then grabbed the second one, his fist connected with his bone and he sent him over the wall. 

He didn't let him recover before coming at him again, Manuel twisted the man's arm to the back and he screamed in pain, but he didn't stop, instead he slammed his head on the wall.

One down.

The other two circled him, they didn't rush him this time, they only studied him.

“I will end you,” one of them said, voice muffled behind the mask. 

Manuel smiled, though his vision was blurred. “So will I.”

He moved before they could react.

The fight turned vicious.

They both came at him at once, each trying to grab him and twist his arm like he did to the other guy, but Manuel was stubborn enough, he wasn't giving in. It looked as though he was slipping out of their grip. 

The dragon vein pulsed harder now, responding to danger, feeding him strength when it looked like he was losing it. 

He grabbed one attacker by the collar and threw him across the room. The man crashed into the TV stand and the glass pieced.

The last one charged, as he aimed his blade at Manuel's heart.

Manuel stepped into the attack instead of retreating and the knife plunged into his side.

He roared in pain and he slammed his forehead on the man's face and drove the knife into the man's shoulder and pinned him to the wall.

The attacker convulsed, then went still.

Silence fell abruptly.

Manuel stood there, his chest heaving and blood dripping down the floor.

He moved over to the masked men now lying dead on the floor and opened their mask, but he didn't know them. 

He hissed and staggered to a corner, his arms already weak from the fight.

Without warning, his legs finally gave way.

He collapsed onto the couch, the pain flooding to the surface before it finally dissolved. 

He laughed weakly before everything went blank.

“So much for a quiet night.”

****

It was almost midday when Laura’s car screeched to a halt outside the villa.

She hadn’t slept.

Not after the strange unease that had settled in her chest the night before. She’d told herself Manuel was fine. He always was.

Yet the feeling wouldn’t go away.

The moment she stepped inside the house, she knew she’d been right.

The scent of blood hit her first.

“Manuel?” she called, already moving faster, pulling her heels by the door so she could run faster.

The living room looked like a battlefield and she froze for a second.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

“Manuel!”

She found him on the couch, half slumped and his shirt soaked with blood at different corners.

She saw that he was sleeping soundly and then heaved, her hands hovering for half a second before she forced herself to focus.

“You idiot…” she whispered. “Why didn’t you call?”

Manuel opened his eyes slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Good morning to you too.”

Her throat tightened. “Don’t joke.”

She pulled out the first aid kit she always kept nearby. 

She moved quick, not looking away from Manuel. He looked at his face and saw how pale they were but she didn't sense much. 

She only saw the knife cuts and the multiple wounds on his arms.

She cleaned and dressed them carefully, jaw clenched the entire time.

“This is on me,” she said quietly after a while.

Manuel frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I shouldn’t have left last night,” she replied, not looking at him. “I knew something felt off. I ignored it.”

“You’re not my bodyguard,” Manuel said.

She finally looked straight at him. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

He said nothing.

When she finished bandaging him, she sat back on her heels, exhaustion seeping into her bones. She was angry at herself.

She stood abruptly, pacing the whole place.

“I’m moving in.”

Manuel blinked. “What?”

“I’ll stay here,” Laura said firmly. “Until things settle down. No arguments...”

He studied her for a long moment. The way she had said it and the look in her eyes.

“…Fine,” he said eventually.

She exhaled slowly, seating back down.

“You should rest..” she muttered, not even sparing him a glance.