The mist of auction hall was mix of alcohol and perilous talks. The slow classic music played in the background adding up to the charisma of the exotic, enormous hallway packed with people all over the world.
The illegal auction I was attending, are hosted in different countries, this year at Burj Al Arab, Dubai. I was sitting with my old acquaintances, whom I inherited from my father.
"You've deadly business tactics are like you're FATHER ". His words vigorously pulled me out of reality plane, my father's thoughts came to the surface. My focus shifted to his thoughts. It blurred my vision. My wanderings intrigued by a deep familiar voice.
" It's time, Chris?" William said, my Executive Assistant. He is a wise, humble man of roughly fifty two years.
The auction begin, I placed the first bid thrice from the price presented. My bid overturned by my foe once partner,
Adrian Russo
Rejecting his upheaval, I presented a bid twice of his price. The eyebrows around our raiders raised. The war of bids got hard.
After few more biddings, the things were getting out of hand. The worrisome bidders in the room definitely felt the heat between us. Avoiding any disastrous consequences, the final bid was placed by Fiona MacLeod of Scotland, a fierce young lady who has successfully defended her area of jurisdiction of mafia. She acquire the 'antique pistol' which is as good as wall hanging. The hustle was not for the pistol, it was for the control, dominance.
After the auction Adrian came through my way and taking the advantage, I stood between the passway. We had a great conversation, he had a tendency of not showcasing emotions on his face, but I knew him well enough. I understood his twisted games and the illustration he portrayed. Deep beneath all his firm layers created by his father's influence was subtle personality.
Well I shortly passed by.
The hall was entirely filled with distinct people. Kwame Nkrumah, a tall, dark, African thug raised a whiskey glass in his hand at me from corner of the hall, I nodded in favor.
William and El Diablo Reyes, a noble, Mexican businessman in world's eyes but is a cheap rascal running a drug and sex racket. They seemed to be having a dignified talk about businesses.
The world I was surrounded by was a treacherous battleground for power, the cruel are the best survivors here. Everyone operating in the murky depths of the criminal empires.
My attention grabbed by Der Schatten Müller with his wife, both effortlessly merging their strengths and spiteful expertise to run the mafia in Germany and in nearby spheres. "You've got fire in your veins, but don't mistake youth for wisdom. Be careful; it can burn you." Anna Müller, his wife said with an amicable smile.
"Experience or not, I've got what it takes. Don't underestimate me." I replied with a mischief in my eyes. Our exchange of words interrupted by Kiran Bir Kang also known as KBK. He is a tall Indian , imposing figure in the Asian mafia, known for his commanding presence and sharp intellect.
He lead me into an isolated seating arrangement, where my business associates awaited. Once in a while we all the business partners meet face to face with obvious reliability and security, discussing the mafiacraft. KBK made the deal for the many weapons, the business market in India is always at a boom.
Les Fauves of France began "Chiens are quite silent " he referred to his areas rivalries. Los Caídos from Colombia as usual started nagging about this major competitor El Lobo of Argentina, who was a close ally of Adrian. Adrian is a great opportunist who found his benefits in making Lobo his asset, to deal indirectly with mafia politics of South America.
Ali kaya was the new pawn in the game, a leader of 'opposite' gang in Turkey, that's what Adrian and his petty members would address him. But he is a young, enthusiastic and a crafty player. He with our weapon and strategic aid has provided us with results. " stick to the plan" I said after listening to his little speech about 'VICTORY'.
After our session I made my way to the airport as I have to leave for Italy for continuing business matters. I was awfully late, but safely secured a flight. An hour was left for the aviation, so William and this I decided to kill the time in lounge of Dubai airport.
As we settled in the lounge I noticed a woman seating in, with some real presence. She had on a sleek black crop top and black pants that fit her perfectly. Not too tall, but she carried herself well.
Her honey-brown eyes had this warm, intriguing look, making her stand out even in the crowd. She seemed to be waiting for someone. Few moments later she raised up and walked towards the ordering counter.
Something in my mind, made my legs mobile. My eyes not lifting from her graceful build. She stopped and turned around, facing me. She looked surprised and conscious, but her facial features were better visible.
She had somewhat wheatish colour, the curls gently dripping from her shoulders just like that of water pouring down the falls. A small nose and luscious lips but the show stealer was her almond shaped eyes shining right into mine's, her eyes were facilitated by long lashes making it more pleasing. She hastily made few steps forward, I gave her way to pass by, as she moved forward, her floral scent took over me. Her perfume somewhat smelled like orchids I guessed.
I ordered and seated myself in front of her table, William came by shortly from the restroom and seated beside me. My thoughts and consciousness engraved on her, though my eyes not looking at her.
For few minutes, William kept on talking about god know what, before he noticed my attention towards her. He following my gaze looked at her and commented " I think she's Brazilian" replying to his guess I said, "Could be".
"You had a chat with her?" he asked. "Nope" , I replied cautiously. He eyed me as a young girl of her age entered the lounge and seated in front of my maybe Brazilian girlie. The announcement was made for the flights they both rose up and left the lounge.
My flight's advisory was made shortly afterwards. We set off to the terminal, my mind mingled with her thoughts, soon enough we were in the aircraft. William and I had different seats as he booked the tickets haphazardly in hurry, we got separate and I made my way forward to 'Row-18'.
I ran my eyes all over the place, estimating entire atmosphere of the place. Reading faces of every beings there, that's the most useful ,spontaneous thing my brain does. All these years of danger made me habitually to it. My inspection came to end when I saw her,again.
My vigilante brain coming at ease, my eyes stabled, gazing at her. Wonderingly I checked my boarding pass and found that I was about to sit, next to her. My respect for William's 'last minute blunder-miracles' increased.
Reaching the seat, I noticed that she was observing the view outside the window. " Miss,Your Bag" I said intruding her. She looked at me, her expressions were perplexing, after few seconds of realising she picked up her bag from my seat next to hers.
Sitting next to her, I noticed the way her fingers nervously tapped the armrest, a subtle sign of her consciousness of my presence. Despite this, her calm composure held.
There was an undeniable grace in how she moved, and an aura of warmth that surrounded her, making the crowded plane feel a little less chaotic. Her scent, light and floral, lingered faintly in the air, intoxicating in its subtlety.
We exchanged few words, as the announcement were made to fasten the seat belts, she tried to clutch them on but failed, I leaned forward towards her. I assisting with the seat belt, we were very close to each other, I could feel her breaths on my skin, my veins burning with adrenaline rush. Few moments later, I realised to ask her name. I said " by the way, myself Christopher Steel"
" ohh, Jisha Singh" she replied.
As the name "Jisha Singh" left her lips, I could shake the familiarity of the surname. Singh. It stirred something in my memory, and in an instant, I recalled one of my trusted subordinates who bore the same name.
My thoughts quickly pieced together the connection—Singh was an Indian surname, a name tied to pride and lineage. A faint realization washed over me ; my earlier assumption of her being Brazilian had been wrong. Now, knowing she was Indian added a new layer of fascination.
My mind began to wonder about her background. Was she connected in some way to my world, to the vast networks I had built, or was this just a coincidence? Thou I kept my expression composed, not revealing my curiosity, but inside, the game had changed.
She was no longer just an intriguing stranger; she was a puzzle to be solved. So investigating further I asked " so what brings you on this journey to Italy, Business or pleasure?" . From her reply I analysed that she is here to build her legal career. She's a law student.
As the plane took off our conversation got stagnant, to fuel up the convo I ask her about the dairy she pulled out of her bag. Replying she said " I write poetry in it"
Her voice was calm, but the words resonated with me,unexpectedly. Poetry?
A flicker of memory stirred in my mind—a vivid flashback to my young days , a time long before the weight of my current life hadn't settled upon me. I was 14, sitting beside his father at a poetry session. My father, a man of few words but deep passions, had been an avid fan of poetry, always finding solace in the rhythm and meaning behind each verse. At the time, I had barely understood poetry.
But now, as I heard the word poetry out from Jisha's mouth, the memory came rushing back with startling clarity. The sound of whispered verses, the quiet hum of the audience, my father's rare smile as he listened to each line.
For the first time in years, I felt a connection beyond the surface—a deeper with similarity between my father and her. Poetry was something I had long buried with my father's memory, but now, here it was, resurfacing through this stranger.
Further she inquired about my motive of travelling Italy. I told her about my business in Italy. Her playful smile caught me off guard. "That's Amazing, but I really thought you ran a mafia!"
I met her gaze, a cold smile forming on my lips, but I kept my eyes steady and unreadable. She was bold, unafraid to poke fun, and I found myself both amused and impressed. But she had no idea how close she was to the truth. All I had for answer was a smirk.
To avoid further complications and awkwardness I hurriedly ask her about the favourite flowers. 'Orchids' she replied.
Her answer made my lips expand into a smile. Soon the announcement was made and plane landed. We exited the plane and she headed to meet her acquaintance she was travelling with.
Jisha was nowhere in sight of the airport , it seemed like the crowd swallowed her whole. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to shake off the lingering thoughts of her.
I reminded myself that I had a world to return to—a world filled with power plays, deals, and the constant dance of dominance. I had obligations waiting for me, and I needed to focus.
Maybe it was for the best. A fleeting encounter with someone like her could only complicate things. I turned my thoughts back to the tasks ahead: meetings with associates, negotiations that required my full attention, and the delicate balance of maintaining control over my estate.
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