Chapter73The Shot
With Matthew's cell phone and a few packed clothes in hand, Patrick returned to Mitchell's place. Matthew took the phone, checked, and cleared up the missed calls and messages of the last couple of days.
"Matthew, where are you staying tonight?"
Patrick carefully broached the subject, preferring not to stir the pot.
"I've got a business trip tonight," Matthew said without lifting his eyes from his phone.
Ha, can he speak things into being? The mere mention of a business trip, and there's one!
"When are you leaving?" Mitchell asked.
"Soon."
"Matthew, let me drive you to the airport," Patrick said, figuring the drive would be an excellent chance to glean some information.
Matthew didn't object, which was as good as a yes.
"Hand me a razor," he told Mitchell before dropping his phone and heading to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, he emerged clean-shaven and went to change his clothes.
When he reappeared, he looked much more refreshed. Aside from a bit of gauntness, he had regained his handsomely rugged demeanor.
Then he grabbed Patrick's packed clothes and got ready to head to the airport.
"Let's go, Patrick. Weren't you offering to drive me to the airport?"
"Oh, right, of course. Let's go," Patrick said, trailing behind Matthew as they left Mitchell's home.
"Take care on the road," Mitchell called out after learning Matthew's business errand. If it was official business, then he should be fine.
*
Matthew had been on his business trip for three days, and Madison had caught glimpses of Hannah sending him daily Facebook messages and the occasional video call. It seemed like he wasn't even in the country.
She didn't ask when he'd return. Yesterday, she finalized the house purchase contract with the landlord. The housing matter was settled at last.
In a couple of days, she'd complete the title transfer and pick up the keys, ready to move into the new place.
In two days, Quentin and Hannah would start school. Matthew had sorted out the enrollment, leaving only signing in on the first day. The school had an open house for parents to explore with their children.
That evening, Madison overheard Hannah brandishing her Smartwatch, sending a voice message to Matthew via Facebook.
"Dad, Mom says the school is starting in two days, and there's an open house. You can come with Mom and me, you know. Dad, did you finish your business trip? When are you coming back? Can you come with us to school on the first day?" Hannah's voice, filled with anticipation, was followed by a string of questions.
A little while later, a response from Matthew came in.
"Hannah, I'll be back in time for your first day of school, and I'll be there to take you and your brother," Matthew promised through the screen.
"That's awesome, Dad! Brother, Mom, and I will all be waiting for you to come back," Hannah responded, her cheerful voice carrying through the house.
Matthew chuckled self-deprecatingly on the other end. “Mom probably isn't too keen to see me,” he thought.
"Dad should go get some rest now. Mom's done with her shower and will read us a story soon. Let's talk more tomorrow, OK? Bye, Dad."
"All right, Hannah, good night."
After her shower, with her hair still damp, Madison left the bathroom in her cotton pajamas. Quentin had insisted on showering by himself and was still in the restroom, so Madison had stepped out first.
Upon seeing her, Hannah eagerly updated her mother, "Mom, Dad just told me that he'll be back on our first day of school! He will take us and even join in the parent activities."
The joy was evident in Hannah's eyes. Too excited to wait before sharing the news with her mom.
"That must make you very happy," Madison said, sliding into bed and flipping back the covers.
It was probably for the best that Matthew was returning.
God knows the kind of temper he'd unleash if she tried to leave quietly with the kids.
"Mom, is brother done yet?" Hannah asked, eager for storytime.
"He should be finished soon. Let's wait for your brother a little longer," Madison suggested.
"OK." Hannah flipped through a picture book on her own, examining the images.
Ten minutes later, Quentin emerged, freshly bathed and dressed in pajamas.
"Come on up, bro. Mom's about to start the story," Hannah called out cheerfully, inviting her brother to join her on the bed for their nightly ritual.
After listening to a couple of stories, the little ones drifted off to sleep one by one. Madison, with her hair still damp, got up to blow-dry it in the bathroom before slipping into bed quietly, soon lulled to sleep by the gentle breathing of the children.
*
Matthew finished catching up with Hannah Garcia on Facebook in a presidential suite of a seven-star hotel in Saudi Arabia.
Lately, he'd been receiving calls and Facebook messages from his daughter, and her endearing baby voice finally lifted the lingering gloom in his heart.
Victor walked in.
"Matthew, have something to eat," Victor suggested, placing food on the table in the room.
"Sure," Matthew replied, setting down his phone and nodding as he walked over.
The two men discussed the following day's negotiations over their meal.
"Matthew, are you sure you don't want me to come with you tomorrow? Or at least take more people with you," Victor expressed his concern about Matthew negotiating alone regarding an oil development deal.
The opposing party had connections to local underworld figures. Although JK Group had been expanding rapidly in the Middle East and commanded respect, there was still the fear of underhanded tactics.
"It's fine. They wouldn't dare pull anything at the negotiation table. Just focus on your end of the business," Matthew reassured him.
"All right then, but I'll have a few guys shadow you discretely. I can't shake this feeling of unease."
"OK," Matthew agreed with a nod, accepting the precaution.
The negotiation happened in an underground cash house of the opposing party. Matthew, dressed in a black trench coat and carrying a briefcase full of cash, walked in alone. His presence made even the thugs at the door forget to stop him.
"Matthew has guts, showing up here alone," remarked the host in rough English.
Matthew placed the briefcase on the table and popped it open, revealing stacks of dollars.
"The oil plot—we at JK Group must secure it," he declared in fluent Arabic, with a striking appearance and a stern look that chilled the bones as his thin lips delivered the steely words.
"So it appears Matthew is multitalented, speaking Arabic so well," the man sitting at the center commented.
"Thank you," Matthew replied modestly.
He sat as one of the underlings presented the contract, which Matthew reviewed intently.
In the tension-filled room, the contract was successfully secured, and Matthew tucked it into the pocket of his trench coat.
"Pleasure doing business with you," he said before spinning on his heel and exiting the cash house.
The man watched Matthew's retreating figure with narrowed eyes.
Matthew had barely walked a few yards when he crossed paths with a man. A quick glance was exchanged, fraught with alertness, as something felt off.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out, a scarlet bloom spreading from his chest, staining the crisp white shirt with blood.
As Matthew fell, the faces of Madison and their two kids flashed across his mind.
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