Sorry face
Noise of people chattering fills the conference room.
Until...a moment later a certain appearance makes the clattering mouths shut in an instant.
The familiar frightenening stare of their boss collides with their shuddering fear.
The man shadowing a terrifying demeanour gets seated in a confident and composed manner. His seat in contrast to the others represents the power and authority he has over the bosses and employees.
"Start!" His dominant voice echoes round the quiet conference hall.
A man stands up and walks calmly to the front with a tablet in his hands. A huge display screen behind on the wall. His fingers swipes and taps the screen of the device resting in his hands.
Simultaneously the tally of their bussiness stocks profits gradually decreasing reflects on the huge display screen of the conference room.
"Boss the trafficking of drugs from Mexico through the ship on the Pacific Ocean was caught by the Navy." The man utters precisely, he adjusts this tie, his eyes sharp and alert.
The boss with his unruffled features stares down at the low moronic monkeys he always exclaims them to be.
"Who was in-charge?" His monotonous voice interrogates.
A quiet minute later a man stands up, sweating profusely. "M-me I was in charge boss,"
He squints his eyes at the man.
Bang!! Bang!!
The noises of booming gunshots resounds in the room. Faint shivering breaths and cold sweat drips down from the presence affected by the scene. Ironically their muscles declares otherwise, for they remain unchanged and dare not blink the eyes or run the tongues.
The man lay there lifelessly, shot in the head, twice at the same point.
He places back the handgun in it's place and stands up.
"Scrub it up." He demands for the corpse and it's remains to be cleaned of the room.
Walking out of the room, his manager trails behind.
"Any news?" Staring straight ahead, he inquires.
"Unfortunately we were unsuccessful again boss." The manager mutters apologetically.
His face darkens, pupils contracting.
He expected the same; Always the same sorry face.
Still, thoughts of her makes his heart clench.
"Miss Neva still can't be found?''
The man with bored eyes looks beside him, that annoying grin makes him want to choke the tall blonde man to death.
"Once more of her name from that hole, and I slit your damned throat." He warns him, his voice deep and heavy.
The blonde man chuckles, "There there Ishmael, you really get worked up at her mere mention huh?"
Ishmael clenches his jaw, but says nothing and keeps walking still.
"Seriously dude, give up, you've been searching her for decades, how hard must it be for the Don to locate a person! It's impossible since she's already dead, get that?" He shrugs, nonchalantly.
The very next moment his blabbering mouth shut. Ishmael's large veiny hand on his neck strangling him and the other hanqd penetrating the handgun down his throat–leaving the man named Leo gagging.
"Say. That. Again?" Leo stands there choking. The gun shoved deeper down his uvula.
"Bo-boss calm down!" The manager requests in hopes of preventing a bloodbath.
Leo is an important figure in their business.
Killing him meant unwanted disarray.
Ishmael shoves Leo away, as the man stumbles, coughing badly. He walks away, leaving the two behind.
Leo inhales and exhales deeply, the breath he held afraid that his dear friend would unalive him for real.
He looks at the manager. "Seriously Manager Cha aren't there plenty of fish in the sea?!" Manager cha adjusts his rectangular glasses, sighing helplessly.
---
(This evening - Neva's Apartment)
Neva holds a mug of hot chocolate reading a novel. Resting in the balcony of her apartment, she was curled up in her great arm-chair, cocooned up in her warm fluffy quilt. She grins ear to ear; the cool autumn breeze making her blush.
Suddenly a thought blows over her mind, having her concentration on the book to crack.
Her 'Mystery Man', it has been couple of days since she found out his name.
The guy appears once a week, follows her around and then disappears. At this realization her plump lips makes a moue in annoyance.
Now and then when she walked out her apartment she couldn't help but take a look at his door. Maybe he was busy at work!
'Tsk! Talk about pursuing me.'
She hits her head twice with the book once she realises how absurd were her thoughts.
She moves her body, adjusting herself on the chair to be comfortable. She takes a sip of her drink and continues reading.
Five minutes reading into her book her doorbell rings.
"Who could be at my door?" She murmers to herself.
'It's 5 pm!!'
She drags her feets lazily towards the direction of the main door.
Twisting the door knob open she peers up at the unwelcomed face.
"Good evening Angel."
Her orbs enlarges a little, recognising the familiar presence.
'Rhett!!'
She frowns a moment later, "What do you want?"
"I want some sugar." He smiles so sweetly.
"What?"