"I'll relay your message, young master." Brayden nodded with a bow. "I noticed you got here in a taxi. I'd love to deliver any car of your choice to you. You just have to tell me which of them you want."
Dillon leaned forward and raised two fingers, "I want two cars. A Bugatti Veyron and a Jaguar XJ220. Deliver the Jaguar as soon as possible."
Brayden, who had taken out his phone to write down the cars Dillon called, paused and glanced up at Dillon.
"Young master, the Jaguar you mentioned isn't an expensive car. Are you sure you don't mean to imply something else?"
Dillion glanced at him and calmly explained the reason for his choice.
"The Jaguar is extremely fast and sleek, and it sells for a little amount compared to the rest of it."
"Besides, I'll be taking it with me wherever I go and since I would rather not be the center of attention by pulling up in a car worth more than ten million dollars, the Jaguar is a perfect fit."
Brayden found it reasonable, so he nodded. "Noted, young master. What color or colors do you want them to be in? And how do you want the interior to be decorated?"
"I want them both in midnight black. The interior should be black as well." Dillon smiled, already picturing the beautiful cars in his mind.
Although he wasn't a car fanatic, it was more of Merlin's thing, but he had taken a fancy to the Jaguar car from a very young age and fantasized about how good it'd be to own it numerous times. He was glad such was really happening.
He suddenly thought about Rachel. She left him because he was broke. She played him like a fool for so many years while he worked his butts off trying to fend for her and her useless demands. At that time, he was love-stricken and never reasoned he was being played by her.
"I almost forgot, your grandfather said to give you this." Brayden's words slashed into his thoughts, drawing him out of it.
He glanced at the card with the letter 'G' on it. It was a card without any writing on it besides the letter. But nevertheless, it looked significant.
"What is this?" He asked, reaching out to take it. He turned the back of the card, but found it bare.
"It's a card that only the head of the Grendel family should have." Brayden informed.
"Oh." Dillon mumbled and slid it into his pocket. He suddenly paused and asked, "What if I lose it accidentally?"
"It has a tracking device attached to it. I'll find it before you know it." Brayden retorted.
Dillon shrugged, and got up. Brayden also got up and bowed one last time to Dillon, "Have a great day, young master. I'll deliver the car in three days."
"Okay." Dillon said and left the private room. Merlin and Timothy occupied the private room directly opposite the one he had just come out from.
He opened the door and poked in his head to see Timothy and Merlin glaring at themselves.
"What is happening?" He asked, and Merlin jumped up from his seat. He ran to Dillon and dragged him to a seat.
"Thank goodness you're here! This boy has refused to say a word to me ever since you left us alone. Quick, ask him why he has been searching for you and how he knows you!" Merlin said impatiently, glaring at Timothy, who returned the glare.
Timothy hadn't smiled the whole time, but as soon as he saw Dillon, a bright smile lit up his face.
Merlin was stunned for a moment before he snorted. What a little hypocrite!
"Dillon, your friend is an annoying talkative. You wouldn't believe how draining it has been to speak with someone with such a low IQ." Timothy sighed in exhaustion.
Merlin flared up. He speechlessly pointed a finger at Timothy, but couldn't come up with anything, so he could only glance at Dillon like he had been wronged.
"You see, he can't even refute because he knows I'm telling the truth. You're lucky you're from a good family. Otherwise, you would've been beaten to a pulp multiple times." Timothy hissed, intentionally provoking him even further.
Minutes ago, Merlin had tried different ways to get the little boy to talk, but it all proved abortive.
So, he went on to mention who he was and the family he came from, hoping it'd make Timothy talk.
However, the boy only continued staring at him blankly, which frustrated him even more.
"Timothy Wolf, right?" Dillon suddenly butted in, putting on to their squabble.
Timothy nodded.
"How do you know me?" Dillon went ahead to question.
"My father was killed seven years ago by some men who claimed he knew where the son of Charles Grendel was. Father said he didn't know, but despite his answer, they still shot him." Timothy recounted, fidgeting with his fingers sadly.
Dillon and Merlin froze. They didn't even know how to comfort each other, talk more of a child. This is just awkward.
"I was hiding in the wardrobe watching it. Dad said not to come out. When the men left, I rushed to him, but instead of calling the ambulance, he asked me to find someone named Dillon Grendel certainly and not to leave his sight once I found you." Timothy concluded his story and glanced up at them with a wide smile.
"He didn't tell you the reason you had to find Dillon?" Merlin asked, but only received a side glance from Timothy, who didn't bother to say anything in response.
Obviously, Timothy was looking down on him. This little rascal.
"Seven years ago. How old were you seven years ago?" Dillon questioned.
"I was 6 years old."
"You're not 10, but 13? Why are you so little then?" Merlin mocked.
"If you didn't know, being petite is good. Besides, males in my family tend to grow a little slower. But they quickly shoot up in height and physique once they clock 16. I bet I'll be taller than you when that time comes." Timothy hissed, refusing to let Merlin's words get to him.
Merlin was about to retort when Dillon glanced at him. He sighed and went silent.
Dillon returned his attention to Timothy, "I don't think I've heard of the Wolf family before. Because there's no way you've been searching for me alone."
Timothy turned his face to the side, refusing to meet Dillon's eyes.
Merlin's eyes suddenly lit up when he realized why Timothy seemed so familiar. "Yes, I knew you looked familiar!"
Dillon turned his attention to Merlin, while Timothy's eyes shook as he glanced at Merlin as well. Merlin thought he saw Timothy's eyes pleading for him not to say anything.
"The Wolf family of New Jersey. They are said to be the king of New Jersey. Seven years ago, the head of the family died at the age of 41. It was said to be a cardiac arrest and his young son who was shielded from the public's eyes took over the family's business, but his name was Timothy Wolf." Merlin stated what he knew in a proud tone.
"I didn't know you were that famous. If that was the case, why didn't you do anything when Moses Lake tried to hurt you?" Dillon questioned, perplexed.
"My bodyguards were close by and would've come to help if I didn't flag them down when I saw you. Father gave me a picture of your father, so when I saw your face, I knew there was no way you'd not be the person I was after." Timothy replied, crossing his fingers.
"So your father was killed because of my father? Did you happen to see the faces of those men?" Dillon asked in a pondering manner.
Timothy nodded, "Yes, he was. And It was my first time of seeing, but I can recognize their leader if I ever set my eyes on him again."
"That's great because I'm going to need your help in catching those people…"
Outside the private restaurant, James Roderick got off his phone and turned to his best friend, Moses Lake.
Moses had purple patches all over his face, and the thought that it was caused by someone like Dillon greatly annoyed him.
In the video circulating online, Dillon had his back to the camera the whole time, but James still recognized him.
To conform his suspicion, he called Moses as soon as he saw the video to confirm if something like that really happened.
Then divulged he had dealt with Dillon sometime ago. He even told Moses how wretched Dillon was.
Thanks to his connections, he found out Dillon was in this restaurant. The restaurant was a fancy one, so James just concluded he was a worker here.
"Quit sulking and cheer up. That bastard will learn never to mess with just anyone by the time we're done with him." James consoled.
A black van suddenly pulled up behind them and men in black suits got out of it. James hired thugs and dressed them up like civilians. But they weren't like the first group of people Moses had hired.
Instead of using clubs, this group had daggers and knifes stuffed into their jackets.
An man of average height who had numerous knife cuts on his face, which made him look scary, was the last to get out of the van. From all indications, he was the boss.
"Two million dollars if you kill this person and whoever you find with him." Moses said, handing over a picture of Dillon.
It was an old picture of Dillon taken more than five years.
The boss took it and spat out with his hoarse voice, "Consider it done."