Amelia disrobed and tiptoed into the bathtub, the warm-perfumed water absorbed her frame in its purifying heat, granting her an excellent feeling.
Basra doused Amelia's body with redolent oils that generated white sailing froths of bubbles that topped the tub. She massaged gently on the body before her as she advanced the bathe.
"Would granny care for this?". Amelia murmured with a flustered face.
"Yes?". Basra questions with an answering stare.
"Ah, no, I am chatting with myself". Amelia raised her head and beamed at Basra.
She returned her head to a relaxing position as she dived back into her line of thoughts.
"Ahh!".
Amelia moaned out. Did she just feel her breasts?
It was foreign, and her reaction was expected of someone who had never been exposed to second -hand contacts to her torso from anybody.
Liam didn't much get to explore her body before their break-up, and she was topnotch gratifying for that.
Although, if Liam had proposed it, she would willingly present her body because she was in love with him.
"Is there any problem?". Basra requested, a distressed expression on her face.
"No, thank you". Amelia responded. "I will continue from here, you can leave now".
Basra rose, hunching her head marginally, before turning around to go.
Amelia felt her chest as Basra disappeared. She couldn't tell if it was because of the bathe or the touch but, her nipples were erect and she seemed strange.
She shoved it to the back of her mind. She was apparently overthinking matters again, she considered to herself.
As she continues her bathe, she decided to place in a request to visit her grandma the next day.
~~~~
Sarah was done with the cooking. She dished out the foods and organized them on the feasting table but none of them touched the meal, they all lingered for Amelia to join them, except John.
He assembled his supper and took off for his room.
Amelia dressed up herself in a homey wear, bundled her hair in a messy bun and moseyed down to the dining lounge.
-----
The aroma emanating from the table caused Amelia famished ness. She couldn't wait to start digging in and supply her gut to its brim.
******************
The door to the cell opened and the three youthful adolescents who looked about eighteen to twenty-two scurried close holding tightly to themselves. A burly towering fellow with a machine gun swinging on his shoulders sauntered into the cell. His eyes were blood-red, and his rims chapped.
He snatched the youngest-looking girl distantly from her friends and yanked her out of the cell, overlooking her pleas and groans as she struggled in his grasp while her cellmates whimpered in fear.
He tapped on the door of the meeting room.
"Come in".
A serious voice uttered from inside the room.
Instantly the bulky man entered the room, he dropped the young woman on the floor like she weighed nothing and hunched his head lightly as he retired to his guarding pose, gripping his gun in his palms.
In the room which looked like a normal office except that there wasn't any ordinary activity going on.
There were two heavily armed men, standing at opposite angles, while the two men seated were conferring.
One man seated looked like a foreigner and was appropriately attired as he sat in front of the man behind the desk, one could state from glancing at the other behind the desk, that he was the character in charge of the negotiation.
He had an indomitable expression. He stared like he had never smiled in his life or possibly didn't recognize how to.
They both gawked at the young woman sobbing faintly on the floor.
"How long has she been here?". The immigrant fellow inquired as he peered at the frail-looking teenager.
"Two-weeks max". Isis reacted.
The foreigner nodded his head satisfied, and the hulking man pulled the girl up after he got a signal from his boss. He was leaving to prepare her for her client.
The foreigner rose from his chair and stretched his grips to a shake. Isis stood up likewise and received his shake.
"It was nice doing business with you". The foreigner brother announced with a smile, and Isis nodded in approval.
The foreigner sauntered towards another exit, the door leading to the outside of the building, but paused in his tracks and turned to Isis.
"I would want to meet with your Boss". He stated.
Immediately Isis understood the man. He became alert but didn't reveal his vigilance, but instead he indifferently answered.
"What boss? I am the boss".
"Then, who is Mr. Raynott to you?".
Isis didn't obscure it further and demanded in a flat tone as he drew out a semi-automatic pistol from the drawer of the desk.
"Who are you?".
The foreigner man lifted his palms up with a sneer on his cheeks.
"I come in peace".
The Mac-Tens, a crime conglomerate that has been operating for the preceding twenty years, the law enforcement were not indeed a pairing for them.
Drugs, Human and Organ Trafficking, Prostitution, kidnapping were just some of the few things this crime group was competent at, they also worked for the government; in secret, which is the reason why they are still active after all these years, even though they have been on the CIA's radar for years. The Mac-Tens is acknowledged as one of the most powerful coordinated crime groups in the world. They expanded throughout the regions of the world.
They have skilled assassins that execute opposition parties, high-profile business executives, politicians, or anyone at all they were paid off to hit or worse, anybody who enters their blacklist, they also convey to affluent cannibals' raw human flesh they relate to as 'meat' and among these wealthy cannibals were individuals who appeared to the public as great, reputable characters maintaining positions of leadership in civilization.
Mr. Raynott also recognized as the underground lord, founder of this mafia group, can be regarded as a non-existing man as he was seldom detected in public and remained in remoteness with his partner for over five years with his descendants governing the organization, particularly the high-ups in society could know of his existence. Mr. Raynott can solely be seen if he was being summoned by a character of influence or if he chooses to deal with a negotiation himself.
The public didn't much learn his true name and purely referred to him as C-Mac.
That's why when the foreigner man revealed his boss's name, Isis became alert that this fellow wasn't just a conventional client, he must either be a higher-up or a human who might have known Mr. Raynott personally, but either way he wasn't against them because no individual against them carries the tenacity to mention Mr. Raynott's name that daringly unless they had a death wish.
****************
Calvin retired to his home in the evening after he left his office. He resided in a distant manor elsewhere from his family home.
His residence also had a monochrome style to it and, just like his father's study chamber, the entity of his suite was in complete darkness or it was dimly laminated.
This was because of his hate for radiant light hues, causing him to abhor celebrations and gatherings of over ten people.
He preferred being alone in the dark, absently, from any synergy with anyone, and just being by himself all night.
In the dawn, before the workers arrive he would have left his apartment, he particularly communicated when it was required and rarely knew how to have a normal affair with anyone that didn't require a contract, have business-related topics but, he mostly enjoyed talking down on someone just like his father did to him.
~~~~~~~~~~
On the glass table in the center of his living room were picture frames of Amelia and the dean on top of the brown diary, Calvin wandered to the fridge, brought out a chilled bottle of water, took up a glass mug from the cabinet and strolled back to the living room.
He relaxed on the couch with his eyes shut before opening them minutes later. He poured himself a cup of water and took up a picture from the pile on the table.
He sipped in one gulp and dropped the glass mug back on the table, he reclined on the couch cross-legged as he stared at Amelia's smiley face.
She appeared younger in the photo. She wore a graduate hat and looked like a high-schooler.
He picked another photo frame and in this one, there were two people.
One was a middle-aged woman and Amelia appeared more matured, which would mean that the picture was taken recently, unlike the former.
Calvin shifted his eyes to take a glance at the middle-aged woman smiling besides Amelia in the picture, and wondered why she looked vaguely familiar.
He got up from the couch with the photograph still in his hands and walked into his room.
On the black nightstand besides the neatly arranged king-sized bed, there was a phone on top. Calvin picked his phone up and dialed Mr. Alex's number.
A few seconds later, the call connected.
"I need all the photographs of female Silver Seal members from thirty years ago to date". Calvin ordered.
"What? Has the old boss given you charge?". Mr. Alex questioned.
"I need it now". Calvin ended the call.
He strolled back to the living room, picked up all the pictures on the table and began to take a quick glance at them and the stack it at the back of the other.
The more he did that, the more familiar the woman in the pictures became.
Ding!
His phone chimed as a message came in. Just as he was told, Mr. Alex delivered all photographs of old and new Silver Seal members.
Calvin immediately picked up his phone and went through the message.
Scrolling through, he examined the pictures he was delivered and compared them to the one in his hand. He did this for a few minutes until finally.
He found her! The face on the screen and the one on the photo frame matched.
No wonder it was hard to find her all these years, with his father thinking she was long dead as there was no trace of her anywhere, the hunt for her came to a halt.
Here she was, all this while living under their noses, in the same country.
He had a sinister smile on his face as he walked into his bedroom. He wondered how his father would react to this.
What a trump card he has now.