UNDER HIS RULES

Gerald puffed on the cigar in his hand. His eyes occasionally gazed straight at the vast green field. The surrounding trees provided a soothing view, with their branches and leaves swaying gently. The gentle breeze added to the serene atmosphere, creating a sense of peace within.

Unfortunately, Gerald wasn’t the type of person who enjoyed being surrounded by such tranquility. If it weren’t for his interest in meeting the old man who was engrossed in playing golf, Gerald wouldn’t want to be here.

“Alfred will finish his session in five minutes,” whispered Paul to Gerald. Gerald slowly stopped playing with the cigar, the leader of the Eagle Wing, in response to Paul’s information. Gerald nodded.

“But, Boss, there’s something you should know,” Paul continued. Gerald furrowed his brow, creating visible creases on his forehead.

“Sam is also here.”

Just as Paul spoke, the person he mentioned arrived. Sam walked confidently with firm steps. There were two people accompanying him, as usual. In front of Sam, there was one of Alfred’s subordinates who always stood guard at the main entrance.

It had been a long time since they last met, silently clashing and observing each other’s every move. The atmosphere in the open space where several of Alfred’s guards and members of the Eagle Wing were waiting became tense.

Sam grinned. “Long time no see,” he said.

Gerald leaned back on the sofa. He took a strong puff from the remaining cigar between his fingers. The smoke quickly filled the room as it escaped his mouth.

“Did you deliberately come to see me, Sam?” Gerald asked, full of intimidation.

“Here?” Sam asked while sitting on one of the sofas directly in front of Gerald. His hands were intertwined. His sharp eyes stared fearlessly at Gerald. “Got nothing better to do!” he sneered.

The piercing gaze of the eagle was met with an equally sharp response from the opponent. Sam then chose to lean back, just as Gerald did. Hugo took out a box containing his favorite cigars. They were from Cuba and considered rare items in the Southern Region.

Sam took one, accepting the lighter from Jack who lit it nearby.

This action drew a cynical chuckle from Gerald. His mind hadn’t forgotten the face of the boy who once aimed a samurai sword at him, precisely on the day the boy’s parents died. It was that boastful remark that made Gerald hate Sam.

Hate him deeply.

“You’re the one who killed my parents,” said the child dressed in all black. His eyes were red. His shoulders still held back strong sobs.

“Don’t make baseless accusations,” Gerald said calmly. “Do I look like a murderer to you?”

Unprepared for Gerald’s response, the sword was swung with full force. Although it was only one slash, it managed to leave a long wound on his hand.

At that time, even though Sam was only eight years old, he was the child of a highly respected clan leader in his time. Even the Eagle Wing themselves had little power under his command. So, when both of his parents passed away, the entire territory of their influence fell upon Sam, including the businesses agreed upon by the Eagle Wing Clan and the Twin Dragons.

Gerald didn’t expect this to happen. He thought that the trusted person of the ruler would take over temporarily. That person was also on his side. The man was unwilling to bow down to the words of an eight-year-old child. Since then, their already not-so-harmonious relationship became even more strained.

The competition between the two intensified. Although Sam had to make a statement in public due to the accusations and actions against Gerald, the child believed in what his heart told him.

Gerald Hasolomone was involved in the events that led to the death of his parents.

Neither of them spokes. Although it seemed like Gerald and Sam were enjoying their slowly burning nicotine sticks, they knew they were both on high alert. The hidden weapons beneath their coats were already prepared.

Hugo and Jack’s, too.

“Mr. Alfred requests both of you to meet him at the restaurant for lunch,” one of Alfred’s bodyguards spoke. He was somewhat afraid considering who he was addressing; two leaders who were staring at him intently.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Sam stood up first, followed by his two trusted individuals. “Great. I happen to be hungry,” Sam said with a mocking laugh.

Gerald muttered quietly. They followed the instructions given by the guard until they reached a room where a variety of delicious food was already served. The aroma alone awakened their appetites completely.

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” Alfred greeted with pleasantries. “Please, have a seat.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Alfred.” Gerald walked towards the person who had smoothed his path all this time. Being a part of Alfred Quassano was beneficial, although there were a few things Gerald didn’t like.

However, he couldn’t complain too much. Otherwise, he would face many obstacles. Quassano’s support for the Eagle Wing Clan was not to be taken lightly. Gerald could easily control important sectors.

“Don’t be offended if you’ve been waiting for me, Gerald.”

The man in the black robe laughed. “Does my face say that?”

The interaction between the two disgusted Sam. He chose to sit in the designated seat, following the course of events for a single purpose.

“It’s been a while since I last saw you, Sam,” Alfred said with a small chuckle. “You seem to have grown up. No longer an eight-year-old child.”

“Time keeps moving, Old Man. But it seems time has stopped around you. You’re still the same as when I was a kid,” Sam casually said while cutting his steak. He chewed eagerly, unconcerned about suddenly becoming the center of attention. “Forgive me, Old Man. What you serve is indeed delicious. I suddenly became hungry.”

Alfred responded with a wide grin. “Enjoy it while you can.” He wet his throat with a dark red liquid. “And you, Gerald. This is all provided for my guest. Whoever that may be.”

“Understood, sir,” Gerald replied softly.

Only the clinking of spoons and forks filled the background of their lunch. No one spoke, but their eyes observed each other. Since Sam finished his meal first, he pulled out a cigarette. He paid no mind to the smoke that emanated from his mouth, whether it bothered those around him or not.

“I’m curious.” Alfred’s words accompanied a gaze directed at Sam, causing him to sit up slightly. “What is your purpose, Sam?”

The one asked chuckled while extinguishing the remaining cigarette. “Have you finished your meal? I’m afraid what I want to know might spoil your appetite.”

Alfred smiled thinly. “What do you want to know?”

Sam merely glanced at Hugo, who produced a black box. He slowly handed it to Alfred, who furrowed his brow. Once the box was in front of Alfred, the old man’s eyes went back and forth between Sam and Gerald.

“What is this?”

“A Type 303 C shotgun, made in Russia. Caliber 9x8mm. It’s a rare item and only owned by certain individuals. Its distribution in the North and South is tightly monitored,” Sam explained as he slowly opened the box. “Do you… recognize it?”

***[]***

“An,” called Beatrice with a face full of joyful smiles. In her hand, she held a plate with a cupcake that she had managed to make after convincing Ute to let her be in the kitchen. Although there were two people constantly watching her, at least Beatrice wasn’t confined to her room, which she increasingly hated.

“You… made this?” Anne approached Beatrice, who was still standing at the doorway. The room where Anne worked was somewhat stuffy and dark. No one was allowed to enter the room without permission from Sam. Beatrice had even been prevented from stepping further inside.

Anne was surprised by what Beatrice brought for her.

“Cupcake. Eat it, alright? I hope you like it.” Beatrice smiled cheerfully.

Somehow, this activity made her heart happy. Despite the presence of many unfamiliar people with fierce and intimidating appearances due to their covered tattoos, at least Beatrice was out of the room called Sam’s chamber.

Beatrice didn’t care how long Sam stayed away from this mansion. In fact, she felt relieved. There was no fear haunting her anymore. No more worries about what Sam might do to her. She tried her best to push away the shadow of Sam, who acted as he pleased back then.

“Miss,” called one of those who usually followed Beatrice closely. “You must return to your room right now.”

Those words made Beatrice furrow her brow. Anne had just received the plate with the cupcake, creating a question in Anne’s mind as well.

“Don’t tell-” Anne didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence as Beatrice was forcibly pulled away.

“Let go!”

“Miss, don’t cause trouble! Don’t make us face the Boss’s wrath!”

In an instant, Beatrice shuddered as she turned to Anne, who was looking at her with a gaze that Beatrice couldn’t comprehend.

“Boss Sam is on his way home. He wants Miss Beatrice to be in his room.”