TWENTY-TWO.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - Luther.


Reese was behaving strangely. We arrived at my penthouse in different cars, I watched her walk straight into her room and banged the door shut.

What in heaven's name is wrong with her?

Maybe as Mr. David said, she was having her womanly moment.

I knew Chinese fried rice was her favorite and so I set the dining table for us to eat.

“Miss Quinn,” I called out gently as I knocked on her door, a door she always left open. I could hear her gentle sniff from this side. It made me question what could have possibly gone wrong with her.

“Miss Quinn, I ordered us some Chinese fried rice.” I prodded, but still, I was met with silence so I dropped some take out at her door, hoping that when she was ready, she would have them.

A heart-wrenching scream jolted me awake at midnight. I rushed down to check on Reese as it seemed to have come from her room.

“Reese ,” I called but the door was still bolted and the Chinese remained untouched, it was probably stalled now.

“Miss Quinn, open the damn door.” I knocked harder, by now I already knew something was wrong with her but I couldn't connect the dots yet.

I ran back to my room to collect my bunch of spare keys. I quickly jiggled them and her door flew open. What I wasn't expecting was the state I met her in; Reese 's eyes were wide open, she had on the same cloth from yesterday, mascara running down her face, and her hair looked like an abode for birds.

Her room was trashed with broken bottles of perfumes, her mirror broken and traces of blood up to the bed.

“Reese . . .” I whispered.

“What is going on?” I asked worriedly, I tried moving close to her but she moved backwards screaming profanities, yelling at me not to come close else she was going to tell Lilly. Who was Lilly?

“Reese , calm down, there is not a soul bearing Lilly here.” I tried to comfort her.

“Not exactly, they will do that to me again.” she burst into tears, printing her wrist with a broken mirror. I distracted her as I ran behind her to hold her body firmly as her body pressed to mine.

“This is Luther, Reese , take a huge breath.” I tried soothing her.

She wept on my chest. “He is going to get me again, Luther.”

“No one is coming into my mansion okay, Miss Quinn. . .” I tried to placate her. I took her in a bridal style towards my room because I didn't trust the new Miss Quinn who broke sharp objects around.

I laid her gently on my bed then I ran my fingers on her scalp, it reminded me of the same way I did to my mom whenever she's having an attack.

An attack was exactly what was wrong with Reese , but what or who could have triggered it? I tried to recall everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours, the only new face she saw was David Wilson. Nothing made sense.

The next day I gave Miss Quinn a break from work. I needed clues on what to do with her situation. I called my private investigator, Tommy, to meet me at our usual hang out spot. I met him there already waiting for me. What I like about Tommy, was his punctuality and ways of business on the outside. He looked just like any random old folks you see on the street reading newspapers upside down but here—Tommy had the eyes of an eagle and ears that heard the tiniest sounds from afar.

“I need everything about this man.” I gidded as I passed him a folder.

He took it from me with a smirk plastered on the corner of his lips. “Everything? including what he had for breakfast, the new woman he is shagging and how dirty his underpants are right?” Tommy inquired, grinning.

“Yes everything,” I passed him his bill of ten thousand dollars as his lips lifted in a coy smile. “I will see you in two days hopefully, get it done, smoothly.” he nodded then left.



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The next two days were among the longest days of my life, with Reese 's nightmare gradually becoming a routine, she could barely reply to chats or even speak at all. Food had become something she didn't want to eat. I sighed for the umpteenth time, wondering when this was going to end.

The day I was supposed to meet Tommy came and as excited as I was, I was curious about what information he might have discovered. I knew it was bad to prey on people's issues but I really couldn't help it here.

I met Tommy at the same bar from last week and we settled into our seats.

“I'd suggest you take some whiskey to cool your temper before opening this.” he nodded towards the file.

“Am I supposed to be scared?” I inquired.

“To be very honest. . . yes!`` It takes a lot to shock Tommy's reactor, so I knew whatever was in that document would have to be a shocking and unexpected one. "This has so many pieces of information in them. Painful ones.” He uttered, looking around and extremely anxious. "David Wilson is a devil, that's all I have to say. and then Luther please watch your back." he said to me.

I got to my penthouse and the house was still quiet, well luckily for me Reese is sleeping already. I hurried to my room and opened the folder without even thinking about pulling my shoes. I need to see for myself who made Reese act all strange.

David Wilson, The forty-eight-year-old businessman inherited the TDQ investment from his father alongside his sister. He was married to a preschool teacher, Lily Wilson. They have been married for about twenty years and had no kids of their own apart from his TDQ business and charity raise. He did nothing on the white paper, what I fear is why I have more than ten pages of black papers.

Tommy's investigations come in the black and white paper. The white sheet for what the whole world knows about you, then the black page is only what the investigator and the investigated know about. I held the black pages and said a little prayer before opening.

David Wilson worked with an underground Drug Enforcement and child trafficking sector, He was in charge of the sales, transportation and grooming of children into teenagers before sales, and his wife happened to be his assistant. His underground company had branches all around Europe and Asia. He tortured young girls and brought them into prostitution.

The procedure was where he brought in girls of seven to eight years old. He taught them how to contain fingers—when they turned thirteen, he taught them how to make a man happy. At the age of sixteen—some girls might be sold into slavery, prostitution or even died from sexually transmitted diseases or rape attacks. Those girls were never seen or heard of again.

Every year about ten percent of the kids from his wife's creche go missing with no traces and the NYPD hasn't found anything fishy about the missing kids. David must have covered up all of the evidence.

Mr David had an underground club where these victims were being auctioned off. I sat motionlessly on my bed drenched in sweat at the pictures staring right at me—pictures of molested girls, female children in chains, hung upside down and being molested. There was also a disc. My hands shivered in fear as I inserted the disc into my laptop.

The video of a girl who was not older than my sixteen-year-old cousin played right in front of me. Her hands were chained in the form of BDSM, a man molesting her from the anal, another one planted himself on her vagina and the third guy had his manhood shoved forcefully into her throat.

I froze when realization dawned on me, David Wilson could have molested Miss Quinn.

I quickly made my way towards Reese 's room. I knocked gently. I heard the bed ruffled before she opened her door.

“Come in but Mr. Haastrup, I'm not in the mood for sex right now.” She pleaded. I instantly felt bad for her that she had thought I wanted to sleep with her.

“No, that's not it, I came to check if you were doing okay,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed that I was not used to showing this kind of emotion but my heart bled at whatever Reese might have gone through.

“I'm fine.” She urged, and I know she was trying to convince herself too.


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