Paying A Visit To George

Monday morning, Xavier swiveled his chair around as he gazed into the picture on his black iPad, his pen in between his teeth. After swiping through the series of photos on his iPad, he threw it to the desk and raised his head to stare at the man who stood before him.

“Rigel,” he called.

“Boss.”

“When was this?” He gestured to the tablet.

“A few days ago.”

“And why the fuck you’re only reporting now?” He slammed his hand on his desk and rose, glaring at the man with angry eyes. “Didn’t you get fucking instructions from me to report as soon as you get information? What then is this?”

“Forgive me. I didn’t realize it was so important.”

Xavier clamped his eyes shut and combed his fingers through his hair. The next time he opened them, he snatched the tablet from the desk again and gazed at the photos like he desired to go into it and create havoc.

“What you’re trying to tell me is that this man didn’t take the warning that I gave and still met my wife?” His eyes were fixated on the man in the photo as he spoke. There were three people in it. His wife, Elaine, her business partner, one that he recognized, and a certain bastard that he warned to stay away from his wife, George, or whatever the fuck he was called.

They were stepping out of Elaine’s company and he had his hands around her back. The audacity of the man to show up despite Xavier’s warnings the last time. Perhaps he needed something stronger than mere warnings?

“Forgive my incompetence.”

“Thank fuck you know that you’re fucking incompetent these days. Fix yourself soon, man. This ain’t you.”

Rigel had his head lowered and let the man vest his anger on him. He knew the right thing to do whenever his boss was this angry. Keep shut and let him vent. He’d come around in no time.

“Enough of this topic. Did you get the bastard’s address?” Xavier asked, grabbing his phone and slipping it into his pocket.

“I did. We have his address.”

“Get a driver and Miller, let’s pay the bastard a visit.”

With that, he rounded the table and strode to the door, his footsteps heavy and loud. Once he was out of the office with Rigel behind him, he made his way out of the floor and the company, heading toward the parking lot where the driver and Miller, one of his numerous men stood before his car, waiting for his arrival.

“Boss,” they both greeted, their heads lowered.

“Did you get the address?” He asked the driver.

“Yes, boss. Please get in.”

The back seat’s door was opened and he slipped in with Rigel, their expressions serious as the car began to move. The driver followed the map and in no time, they arrived in front of a magnificent gate.

“This is it?” Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d thought that George would live in somewhere hidden or small at least due to his ugly record but it seemed that the man was powerful enough to live like every normal person.

His mansion was impressive. Large and painted in pure sparking white.

“This is it.”

“Impressive. You know what to do. Do it silently without alerting anyone.”

The other men threw themselves out of the car, a white kerchief in their hands as they walked to the men who stood by the gates.

“Yoo bros,” Rigel began, gesturing for the two men behind him to hide their kerchiefs. The two men by the gate quickly stood on alert, their hands on their waistbands where their guns were.

“Who are you?” One of the men stood in front.

“Man, we lost our way. Do you think you can show us the city’s square?”

“Do not take another step closer.”

“Ain’t personal, bro. We lost our way. Show us the fucking way.”

Before the men could begin speaking into their burner phones, Rigel and the two men behind them attacked them when before they could register anything in their heads and pressed the handkerchiefs to their faces. It took less than a minute to get the men on the floor, their bodies slumping on each other.

They dragged them to the corner and left them, wiping their palms together afterward. “Weaklings,” Rigel spat. He slightly raced to Xavier’s side of the car and opened the door for him. Like the boss that he was, he emerged from the car and stepped forward, his eyes scanning the surroundings that they were.

“There are more guards inside,” he stated the obvious while his men took the remote control of the gate and opened it slowly. The place seemed pretty guarded as expected.

Their expertise was something of great help at the moment as they swiftly took the other men down to the floor. The routine continued until they got to the front door of the main house. The door slid open automatically for them and they strode in, the lights turning on at their presence.

“Now, this is unexpectedly my style.” The three men nodded at the interiors of the house. It was unexpected that the house would be that perfect. With his hands dipped into his pocket, Xavier decided to scrutinize the house before his target arrived. According to his schedule, he’d be home in thirty.

Xavier first walked around the living room, and then he climbed the stairs that he guessed led to the bastard’s bedroom. He checked the first door only to find it locked and then the third and fourth.

He didn’t find it strange that inside the house was without anyone. No housemaids, no fucking person. Perhaps the man preferred having his space alone. To run his dirty businesses. The entire mansion smelled like fucking drugs and thick smoke.

Finally, he got to the last door and surprisingly it opened when he pushed it. He raised a brow, going into the room head first only to find out that it was in fact the master bedroom. A laugh broke out from his throat. It was suspicious how the man had locked every room in the house except his. At that moment, it finally dawned on him.

George Dean in fact knew that he would show up in the house, he had been expecting his arrival at his house, and fuck, he got prepared. That could probably explain the quiet house and the locked doors. The man was up to something.

Xavier’s eyes widened as he stepped into the room, his blood immediately beginning to boil. His fist balled as his eyes caught sight of the pictures on the wall, his eyes becoming bloodshot cold.

Anger overtook his every being and he shot to the picture frames and took them off the wall, slamming them on the floor with full force that they broke. Not only had the bastard been stalking Elaine, but he’d also been keeping pictures of her and he had the guts to hang pictures of her on his walls like an obsessed maniac.

His eyes and legs shot to the bed, a stack of pictures arranged carefully on it, some of Elaine having business meetings, some of her with her friend, and a few pictures of her alone. He was definitely ending George’s life once and for all. If he hadn’t already been about him seeing his wife again despite his warnings, the pictures raised his anger to the brim.

He took them in his hands and tore them into pieces, threw the cuts to the bed, and kicked his foot against the bed frame, groaning in anger.

Having had enough of the room, he strolled out and stormed back downstairs where his men sat waiting for him.

“I’ll definitely blow him out. He’s getting on my fucking nerves,” he yelled. “This whole house, we’re blowing it.” As long as there was a picture of his wife in the house, he was wiping every trace. No other man can have pictures of her except him. Especially not George. “Get prepared, we’re not leaving anything untouched.”

“Did something happen?”

He snapped his head to Millar who immediately cowered backward as if realizing that his boss could vent his anger on him. “You’re questioning me?”

“Of course not. I’ll call the men to make preparations for it quickly.”

“Be smart about it.”

“Yes, boss.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and began to place a call under Xavier’s watch.

“I think he’s here,” Rigel informed. Xavier grabbed his pistol that was strapped on his waistband and he pointed it in the direction of the door just in time for his target to walk in. He has a dark-skinned shorter woman behind him and her hands flew to her mouth at the sight of the gun pointed in their direction.

“Woah, woah, woah,” George exclaimed. “Unexpected visitors don’t shove a gun to their host’s face.” His hand around the woman’s waist loosened. “I didn’t expect this visit, Mr Romano.”