Chapitre 3: Current problems
It was just another gloomy July night. The cool, refreshing wind was blowing through the glass window of the car I'm sitting in, even though it was muggy during the day.
With my head resting on the plush upholstery of the automobile seat, I'm relaxing back and enjoying its comfort. On the road ahead, I could hear the tires of the car moving at a steady enough pace. I apply pressure to the elbow on the window side and place my right hand on my chin. My security drove a fancy car, and I could smell the strong perfume. I touched the tip of my left finger to the seat that held the beer and played with the bottle's tip. On my somewhat moist lips, I taste the subtle cigarette.
Regarding today's encounter with the heads of the "Blue Rose" and "Velvet Thorns," two of the most well-known mafia organizations in India, I started to get lost in thought. They are known to be a group of violent, psychotic, vicious, rapists, and illicit drug dealers. I, Raghav, the commander of the Red Cross, came in at number three on the list of the most powerful Mafia groups in India. This ranking is completely fictitious because some information about our group's income and other data remain secret.
'I have a warm heart in some places, but I rarely show it to people since I am more cold-blooded than they are. I am able to handle their hypocrisy since I am familiar with them from my past and current arguments.' I thought.
I looked at my bodyguard's face in the front mirror of a black luxury automobile, turning my eyes that had been looking out to the front while feeling the chill of the wind on them.
"Have you seen the notification?" I asked him in a hard, icy tone, as I typically do to my subordinates.
"Yeah, sir, I've received the notification from Sir Antonio and Ma'am Fidha," my bodyguard, who was gently operating the vehicle, said in a modest and subservient tone. "For the meeting today, sir, they are excitedly awaiting you in the seaport."
I confirmed to him, taking my right hand away from the window, "All right, so what about the court case tomorrow? The lawyer, that old fool John, was unable to reverse the court's decision. I would murder him and his family. There must be some reasonable crap for him to submit to."
There were murderous intent shot through my hollow eye which made my bodyguard to sudder a little. While his cold sweat from his forehand had dropped from him. He sighed [Hoo…] which made him started to increase the pace of the car.
"Sir, I am aware that the case tomorrow has significant stakes. Mr. John might find it difficult to convince Mr. Ali Akadhar, a Supreme Court judge, to dismiss your lawsuit. I learned that he is a talented judge from his predecessors and a bit of a snob. He would only remain in the righteous section of the court by employing unconventional tactics, which could land Mr. John squarely in the face."
I sharpened the corner of my eye, and my face darkened. Never once did I draw my smile, not even briefly. I felt a lot of discomfort as I tightly clenched my hands. I tasted breathless air as I repeatedly exhaled frigid air. I gave a little mutter, [F****er]. I could hear the automobile moving quickly.
I've known that old fool John for a very long time because, because to my eyesight and interactions with time, I know him better than anyone else. He always has the upper hand on his strings and wins the case by doing his own dirty work, even if he takes a considerable amount for each case. Other talented attorneys wouldn't be able to win it if he couldn't!
I would have won the game long ago if I had attended law school or school with my businesses!
Then.
After gritting his teeth and perspiring in his suit, my security proposed, "Sir, Permit me to suggest a lawyer who might have a remote chance of winning it. Her methods are not, however, assured."
I relaxed my eloquent breathing and the piercing gaze I had previously given him. The calming sensation caressed me as I released the clinched hands, which stung a little. I let out a tiny [hew..] from my mouth. I regained my composure and crossed my legs authoritatively. With minimal discomfort, leaning back to a wider seat…
No matter how dire the circumstances, I can't lose!
He began with the tiniest hint of hesitation, "Her name is Aishwarya Khanna... He never lost a round and won the majority of her career's high-stakes court challenges. She might win this, as far as I know, but…"
I became rather curious and squinted my eyes. I wanted to know more, so I leaned in front of the seat.
"But what?!"
"This girl is only 24 years old!"
"..."
"Sir..."
"What? Only twenty-four! Then, you ****, what good is a 50-year-old jerk for?"
I yelled at him.
This **** is unaware of the difference between a young girl and an old fool. Power and knowledge are undoubtedly unaware of the challenges involved in closing the case, especially if she is just starting her career—not to mention that she recently received her college degree. How could she defeat that elderly fool as a young girl?
I put my palm to my forehead and rubbed it vertically, feeling an increasing amount of stress and frustration from all these years. The cigarette turned into a chaotic form as the last of the smoke left its tip, and I bit my lips firmly but lightly. With an awful yell [Greeze], I heard him stop the automobile.
"Che!" I swore.
"Sir… If you give her a chance, then who knows if she might flip the page easier than Mr. John? If sir gauged how you turned a 12-year-old boy into a nation-renowned mafia don of "Red Cross" gang rank, then she might show a miracle!"
The words hung in the air like a challenge, tempting me to reconsider. I released my grip on the cigarette, watching the last of its smoke dissolve into the night air, my mind racing. A 24-year-old girl... The idea seemed preposterous, but there was something about the way my bodyguard had spoken, a tiny flicker of hope in his voice. Maybe it was worth a shot. After all, what did I have to lose?
I grunted, indicating my reluctant agreement, and my bodyguard visibly relaxed. He seemed almost relieved, probably dreading the alternative.
"Fine," I said, my voice still hard but with a touch less venom. "Get her. But if she fails, it's your head on the line, not mine."
He nodded fervently, and with that, we drove on in silence, the rhythmic thrum of the car's engine the only sound accompanying my turbulent thoughts.
As we approached the seaport, the familiar sight of the towering cranes and the smell of the saltwater filled the air. This place always had a way of grounding me, reminding me of the roots I had planted so deeply in the underworld. The port was our stronghold, a place where deals were made and broken, where loyalties were tested.
My bodyguard pulled the car to a stop, and I stepped out, straightening my suit as I surveyed the scene. Antonio and Fidha were already waiting, their silhouettes stark against the dimly lit dockyard. They exuded power and danger, their mere presence a testament to the ruthless empires they commanded.
"Raghav," Antonio greeted me with a nod, his Italian accent thick and heavy. "Glad you could make it."
"Antonio, Fidha," I acknowledged them both, my tone as icy as ever. "Let's get this over with."
We moved into a makeshift conference room set up in one of the storage containers. The ambiance was as grim as our business, the cold steel walls echoing our footsteps. We took our seats around a small table, the tension palpable.
"What's the update on the shipments?" I asked, getting straight to the point.
"Blue Rose has secured the new route," Fidha responded, her voice as sharp as a knife. "But there's been interference. The Velvet Thorns have been encroaching on our territory."
Antonio interjected, "We need to address this issue before it escalates. We can't afford to lose ground now."
I listened, weighing my options. The balance of power in the underworld was delicate, and any misstep could lead to a full-blown war. My thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the court case and the young lawyer who might be our last hope.
"We'll deal with the Velvet Thorns," I said finally. "But first, there's another matter that needs our attention."
Antonio raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What matter?"
"I need a lawyer who can win a case against impossible odds," I explained, briefly outlining the situation. "There's a girl, Aishwarya Khanna. She's young but reputed to be exceptional. I want to bring her in."
Fidha looked skeptical. "A girl? In our line of work?"
I shot her a glare. "Do you doubt my judgment?"
She held up her hands in mock surrender. "No, of course not. But this is highly unorthodox."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," I retorted. "We're fighting a battle on multiple fronts. We need every advantage we can get."
Antonio leaned back, considering. "If you believe she can deliver, then bring her in. But know this, Raghav – failure is not an option."
I nodded, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. Failure was indeed not an option. The stakes were too high.
After wrapping up the meeting with Antonio and Fidha, I made my way back to the car. The night air was cooler now, the wind carrying a sense of foreboding. My bodyguard was waiting, looking at me expectantly.
"Find Aishwarya Khanna," I ordered. "Bring her to me. We don't have much time."
"Yes, sir," he replied, and we sped off into the night, the urgency of our mission propelling us forward.
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PoorPoet
PoorPoet Chapter 3 has published. 1st is chapter had written in 2021... I'd never written then which is still reflecting in my style. I seek to improve. please give your feedbacks...
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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