As the car sped through the city streets, the ride was bumpy and the driver expertly weaved through the traffic. Suddenly, the car came to a stop at a traffic jam.
"Sir, there's a traffic jam," the driver said, looking over his shoulder at Raymond, who was deep in thought. "We might be here for a while."
But Raymond didn't respond. He was lost in his own world, replaying the events of the past few weeks in his mind. He couldn't believe that Roselle had actually begged for his attention. It seemed like something out of a dream.
The memory of Roselle weeping played over and over in his mind. He had never seen her so broken before. But the memory of her calling him classless was even more painful. "You're more of a shame than a husband to me," she had said. "This ring is like a handcuff to me."
And now, she was blaming Pete and her parents for her actions. How could she blame anyone but herself? He knew the truth - that she had made her own choices, and they had led to this moment. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
"She thinks she can manipulate me like a pawn," he whispered, his anger rising.
The blaring of the car horn pulled him out of his thoughts. "Where are we?" he asked the driver.
"We're just a few streets away from your hotel," the driver replied. "The traffic is heavy, so it might take us longer than expected."
After a few minutes, the traffic cleared and the car pulled up to the hotel. Raymond got out and turned to the driver. "Here's some money for lunch," he said, handing the driver a few dollars.
He strode with pride. From a distance he could hear the driver shower him praises. He grinned as he entered the hotel.
As usual, he entered the elevator and rode up to his floor, enjoying the solitude.
When he reached his suite, he ignored the greetings of the staff and other guests. He didn't have time for small talk or photos. He just wanted to be alone. He opened the door to his suite, finally able to relax.
"She begged," he thought, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Roselle actually begged for my attention and craved me? "
"Of course she's not in love with me," he said, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "She's just in love with the money and prestige that comes with being my wife.
She's Inlove with Kane not Raymond. Gold digger!" he said audibly, shaking his head in disgust.
As he was thinking, his phone buzzed. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was his private investigator. He thought to himself, "It's about time I get a better phone," as he answered the call.
"Hello, this is Raymond Kane speaking. What's the progress?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.
"I'd rather discuss it over drinks," the detective said. "I'm not comfortable talking about this over the phone."
"Let's meet at Greg's Eatery then," Raymond replied. "I prefer food to exotic drinks.yes,the time is always at 6pm."
He laid back on the bed, exhausted from the day's events. He decided to shower and then head out to Greg's Restaurant, a fancy establishment frequented by the city's elite.
He checked his watch and saw that it was 6 PM. He hadn't plenty of time to spare before his meeting with the detective. He decided to order his favorite dish, Italian noodles, and waited for his food to arrive.
As he savored his noodles, a figure approached his table and took a seat across from him.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Kane," the detective said, a look of embarrassment on his face. "Traffic was a nightmare."
"No need to apologize," Raymond said, gesturing for the detective to sit. "Would you like to order something to eat?"
The detective nodded and they placed their orders with the waiter. Once they were alone again, the detective turned to him. "Now, let's get down to business."
"What did you find out?" Raymond asked, barely able to contain his excitement.
"The group goes by the name Raiders," the detective said. "It was founded by an Italian man who sought a way to become rich and powerful. He escaped from prison six years ago and fled here with his evil scheeme."
The detective took a bite of his noodles and continued. "I've also learned that the group's main business is lending people money with huge interest and hiring thugs to collect the money.what a shameful way to make money,don't you think?"
" I can't agree less. " Raymond replied, his gaze on the noodles.
"I believe they're meeting at a hotel in a secluded area," the detective added. "And I think I know which hotel it is."
"Nice!" Raymond exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. "What I need are some hidden cameras to record their meeting. And can you send some people to keep an eye on them?"
The detective nodded, scribbling down notes on his pad. "I'll do my best. I'll keep you updated as soon as I have more information."
Raymond gave him a quick smile and strode towards the door. "You too, have a great day."
As he reached for his phone to call his driver, he realized it was dead. "Of course, I forgot to charge it," he muttered to himself. "I'm only a stone's throw away from my house, no problem walking," he thought as he started down the street. He couldn't help but notice the looks he received from passersby, admiring his expensive clothes.
He was about to cross the street when a car suddenly stopped right in front of him, almost hitting him. He jumped back, cursing loudly.
"Are you blind?!" he yelled at the driver, his heart still racing from the near miss.
The car door opened and a figure emerged, running towards him. It was Roselle, looking haggard and out of breath. She threw her arms around him, holding him tight.
He pushed her away roughly. "I can't be seen with a woman like you. Especially not a haggard, dirty old one. " he said, his tone harsh and cold.
Roselle's eyes filled with tears as she stammered, "Please listen to me, Raymond. I… I"
"Enough!" he roared, his anger getting the better of him. " Aren't tired of playing the victim? Remember I'm worth nothing. I'm only more of a shame, rather than husband to you. "
He tried to leave, but Roselle clung to his legs, sobbing bitterly.
Before he could react, Roselle pulled out a small velvet box and got down on one knee. His heart sank as he realized what was about to happen.
Roselle opened the box to reveal a sparkling diamond ring, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Will you marry me again?" she asked, her voice trembling.
People around them were staring in disbelief, phones recording the scene. Some were whispering among themselves, their eyes full of wonder. "Say yes!" one person cried out, and others took up the chant.
But Raymond just stood there, unmoved by the commotion around.
Roselle looked on in horror as he picked up the ring and tossed it into a nearby storm drain, the diamond glinting in the light as it disappeared into the darkness.
"No!" she cried, scrambling to her feet. But it was too late - the ring was gone. "Raymond, please!" she begged, tears streaming down her face.
He didn't even look at her as he turned and walked away, his face stony and unreadable. The crowd began to disperse, whispering among themselves. Some of them were shaking their heads, others looking sad or outraged.
Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind, and he could feel the warm tears soaking through his shirt.
"I love you," Roselle whispered, her voice trembling. "Please come back."
He wrenched himself free from her grasp, his heart filled with anger and disgust. Without another word, he ran to the nearest cab and hailed it. The car pulled away, carrying him out of sight.
Roselle fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She had lost everything.
He didn't speak a word as the cab took him to his hotel, paid the driver, and got out of the car. He went up to his room and collapsed on the bed, trying to block out everything that had just happened.
After a few hours, his phone was finally charged. He turned it on and saw that he had an email from the investigator, containing the address of the cult's meeting. Just was he needed at that time.
With a shaking hand, he picked up his phone and texted his father, asking for police to surround the cult's meeting place. A mischievous smile crept across his face.
Within minutes, there were police cars surrounding the hotel. Sirens blared and officers in full gear swarmed the building.
He could hear the sounds of chaos and panic from inside, and he felt a sense of satisfaction. Finally, justice would be served.
One of the gang members escaped and fired some bullet to his direction, unluckily it hit the investigator.
He laid down in his own pool of blood, gasping for breath and wallowing in pain.