Kwan Moldrick, tall, handsome, and bold, a man who takes everything seriously, even the most trivial, funniest joke his mother once cracked. At a very young age, he experienced the worst thing that could happen to a man—he accidentally killed his brother and became a disgrace to his family, so he decided to live in the street, learned to steal from ordinary vendors, and did some dirty tricks like fooling people for money to buy some food and survive both the heat and cold.
Kwan had risked his life many times, and now he was standing in front of a huge mansion that belonged to his client, a notorious mafia boss who came from Beijing but moved to Western Europe for some reasons he knew nothing about, ready to risk his life once again.
Brandon, surrounded by his armed men, was sitting on his most gracious throne when the door opened, revealing Kwan Moldrick. His cousin, Monsieur Denisse Lucresse, who came from Marseille, recommended he take down his enemies. Denisse assured him that Kwan had never failed any tasks that were assigned to him, but Brandon was still skeptical.
Moldrick entered the dimly-lit room and asked, "Where's your leader?" He looked around and saw Brandon and his men, waiting for him. He could feel the tense atmosphere, as if they were ready to shoot him just in case he made any wrong move.
Brandon thought he would meet a creepy man, like a mysterious assassin, but the man in front of him has a calm, composed, and collected demeanor and a serious face. How could he act so calm despite being in such a tense situation, and he was standing his ground alone?
"Mister Moldrick!" Brandon, who was sitting in his swivel chair, stood up and walked towards him. "I didn't expect to see you come here all by yourself."
"Nice to meet you. I am Brandon, and these are my men." Brandon introduced himself and asked for a handshake, but Kwan didn't shake hands with him.
Kwan's right hand was holding a cigarette, and the other was inside the pocket of his long overcoat. Brandon thought that his cousin Denisse might be wrong because this man seemed difficult to negotiate with.
"I'm here for the money," Kwan said, emitting smoke, making Brandon step backward.
"I got it. But let's be fair." Brandon slipped his fingers inside the pockets of his jeans, conscious about what the price would be.
"Twenty million; I'll do it quickly," Kwan suggested brusquely, as if he were the boss.
"What a shameless man!" Brandon screamed in his mind. "It doesn't matter; I'm wealthy enough to buy someone's life—someone who's very important to disappear or might become a hindrance to my sovereignty in the east."
"I'll give you one month," Brandon said.
"Won't you offer a down payment?" Kwan demanded as he swallowed his cigar, the cinder slowly approaching his lips and smoke spiraling up in the air.
"Get the case!" Brandon ordered, clapping his hands for the men around him.
One of his men took the bulging, black attache case from the floor and dragged it near Kwan. The man opened the attaché case, while Brandon went towards his chair and sat down. He crossed his legs, leaned on his chair, and lit a cigarette.
"That's half the price, so you can't withdraw the deal when you accept that," Brandon remarked, holding a silver lighter and a cigarette in his lips. "You may count them to be sure."
Ten million was huge enough to support his family's safety and necessities, but Kwan knew how valuable his conscience was. He spent a few moments alone in the silence before making his final decision.
"Maybe you're scared of what can happen to you if you get caught by those cops." Brandon broke the silence and laughed derisively.
"I'll be back with her head!" Kwan made a promise, took the attaché case from the floor, and immediately went out of the mansion.
"Just make sure. Hahahahaha!" Brandon's devilish laughter gradually faded as the sun went down and vanished from view.
Far away in the east, where the sun always rose, the five-storey mansion of San Jose stood on vast, untouched land. It had a grand staircase leading upward with elegant, blooming flower beds and stone railings on both sides. Its steps were made of patterned stone.
A lovely lady in her mid-20s was assisting her parents in their garden when someone called their attention from the gate. A chariot stopped there, and a tall and handsome man came out. He was wearing ordinary clothes, a black tunic with a hood, black pants, and boots.
"Oh! There he is!" Elfedio exclaimed in a happy tone, welcoming their guest. "Meet Emerson Bevilla, our new gardener!" He opened the gate and let the man in.
As he looked up after bowing his head to show some respect, the young lady's eyes met Emerson's. He smiled at her, but the lady just ignored him by looking somewhere else.
The young lady started thinking about the man's physical features: he has brown eyes, a high French nose, hard facial lines, and an undercut hairstyle.
Emerson's eyes didn't leave the lady, although she wasn't looking at him. He didn't know why even her long, curly, blonde hair, which wasn't even tied, seemed to be pulling him closer, and he was getting mesmerized as his foot brought him near.
Bernadette faked a cough to catch their attention and asked, "So, you'll be starting your work today?"
"Uh, um, yes, ma'am, sir," Emerson stammered in surprise as he shook his head while being freed from the mesmerization. "I will start working today."
"That's great. Child, why won't you show him around first?" Bernadette asked the young lady, her daughter.
"Why me?" The young lady asked in her mind. But there was no one else around, so she had no other choice. She acted like she didn't know where to go first, feeling uncomfortable. "Follow me," she whispered enough for him to hear.
Emerson cautiously followed the hem of her swinging white miniskirt. He couldn't help but secretly enjoy every glimpse of her small but perfectly trimmed waist, shapely legs, and flawless skin.
"Okay, Mister, I will leave you here. This is Mario, one of our agriculturists and the head worker. You may ask him if you need something," the young lady said as she hastily turned to leave, noticing that the man behind her seemed to want to commit sexual assault. "Why would Dad hire someone like him?" She wondered.
"But miss! I don't even know your name!" Emerson shouted, but the lady hadn't heard him, or at least she just didn't want to as she continued walking.
"She's Rebecca," Mario told him while picking up the trash from the ground and putting it in the wheelbarrow.
"What a lovely name," Emerson complimented. A sweet and charming smile appeared on his face.
"Yup, she was born not just beautiful but also wealthy. She's talented and clever, too. There's no other woman who can be as perfect as she!" Mario exaggerated as he continued his work.
Emerson fell into the snare of reverie for a while, thinking of what he heard from the headworker. He didn't know why he, himself, was showing a lot of interest in the lady—was he attracted to her glamorous beauty?
"Hey!" Mario exclaimed as he noticed Emerson was doing nothing. "Are you here for work or not?"
"Oh, I forgot that I needed to work!" Emerson replied, having freed himself from his own imagination. "Why does it seem that she's the only one playing in my mind?"
"Let's go to the front yard and help me trim the weeds there; then perhaps you will know. You must not be lazy if you want to stay here longer," Mario advised.
"Thank you for your advice, but I need to talk to Rebecca first." Emerson stepped out, attempting to leave, but Mario grabbed his arm, preventing him from going.
"F**k! If you don't want this spade to break your legs, stay away from the young lady of San Jose," Mario warned before letting him go.
Emerson was surprised by both Mario's demeanor, which suddenly changed, and the fact that he called Rebecca the young lady of San Jose. He remembered something: that he had found what he was looking for.
Mario pushed the wheelbarrow in a mad or envious manner, and to avoid any trouble, Emerson followed him to the front yard to help trim the tall weeds. It wasn't because he was afraid that he would break his legs using the spade.
While the two men were working in the extensive garden, from the window of her bedroom up on the second floor of the mansion, Rebecca San Jose was also staring right at them, especially at Emerson.
"He's not so handsome at all. He even looks like a swindler or as if he were just released from jail," Rebecca soliloquized. "Why would I be interested in someone like him?"
"Miss Rebecca, whom are you looking at?" The personal maid asked as she entered the room. She then peered through the window to see, "Oh! The newbie gardener? I think he's handsome."