Chapter 70 A worse threat
“The lady's death is a necessity, boss."
“Charlotte’s life is in danger!" I growled.
His expression was indifferent. “Collateral damage,” he remarked.
I clenched my fingers into a fist; I so badly wanted to punch him.
Just then, Marcus rushed in; there was a phone in his hand, and he looked at me in horror; Eloise had been shot multiple times in the chest by one of our men.
“What the fuck! General!" I shouted.
“The bounty is a faux boss!" he shouted back, his eyes red with anger. “If you had the same balls you had before! You would know that it was a lie!" he roared.
I looked at Marcus, and he nodded to confirm.
“You fell in love with a woman and lost fifty percent of your brain cells. “Me like us do not love, boss; we are fighters. When love we worry, when we worry we can't perform well in missions; when we cannot do that, we fail!" he barked.
He drew closer, “You were great then, and that was why I bowed before you, but now that I see a weakness, it has to be eliminated."
My eyes blazed with anger. “What does that mean?"
“Charlotte has to die,” he admitted.
I didn't realize that when I punched him, he held his nose and looked at me in a fit: “I declare a trial battle."
A trial battle happened when a soldier challenged a master to battle, a fight until death; whoever came out triumphant became the leader.
“I don't want to kill you, General,” I turned around to leave.
“I want to kill you,” he spat.
I looked angrily at him. “Get out of my house, General."
“I managed to eliminate a threat, one you took too long to kill; if you don't say yes, Charlotte dies,” he shouted.
Marcus aimed a gun at the general. “What did you say about the boss's wife?"
The general laughed, “You show loyalty to a fool."
“Fine, I accept."
I needed to take my loyalty out on something, "in two days."
The general, without another word, began to walk out; he stood before Marcus and gazed at him. “You support a fool."
With that, he stormed out.
Marcus tucked the gun behind. His pocket and marched to me, “a fight to the death? If you die, boss….I can't…,”
“I won't,” I cut in. As I parted my lips to speak, I saw Charlotte upstairs; she was wide awake and looking at me with tears in her eyes. “Baby,” I rushed up to her.
“Who was that man? Are you going to die? A fight to the death?"
I grabbed her hand. “I'm not dying, Charlotte."
“It's a fight to the death. Did you forget you have a wife? Why would you do that to me? I don't want to lose you!" she cried.
“Charlotte, he threatened to kill you,” I explained.
She hugged me tightly and wept in my arms.
“Charlotte, I have done this multiple times; there is going to be a rebellious soldier who wants to take my place. Charlotte, I never lose."
She looked up at me with teary eyes. “Are you sure?"
I nodded.
Charlotte and I had sat in the living room, and she fell asleep on my lap; I didn't dare wake her up.
That morning, while Charlotte still slept, I watched Anastasia walk down the stairs and walk into the kitchen.
She looked around, confused. “If you need somebody to eat, talk to one of the men,” I shouted.
She looked back and saw Charlotte on my lap. “There she is,” she said as she walked closer to us.
“I want to go see Aunt Becky; can she come?" she asked about Charlotte.
I looked down at her sleeping peacefully. “I cannot bother my wife's sleep, Anastasia; ask one of the men to take you."
She moved to one of the chairs like a whiny teenager and slumped into the chair; the sound made Charlotte's eyes open.
I shot Anastasia with an annoyed gaze.
Charlotte sat up and twisted her neck; she turned to look at me. “Why didn't you wake me up?" Her voice was strained.
I touched her face. "I didn't want to wake you up."
Anastasia stood up from her seat. “Can we see Aunt Becky now?"
Charlotte stood, and I quickly stood and grabbed her. “My wife will shower, eat, change into fresh clothes, and then she will go see your Aunt Becky."
I looked at Charlotte. "Okay?"
She nodded and placed a kiss on my cheek before she walked off.
I moved to the wine cellar in the living room and grabbed a bottle of red wine.
“Thank God,” Anastasia said as she grabbed a glass and placed it in front of me.
I pushed the glass away. "You're too young to drink."
She reached for it again, “I'm nineteen."
“You have to be at least twenty-one years old to drink,” I said.
She cursed under her breath.
Just then, I heard footsteps behind me; I turned, and my eyes widened as I saw Alexander.
“What the fuck?" I said in shock.
He wore a pair of black suit pants and a black sleeve. His brown hair had become wavy. “I was expecting a welcome, but I guess that works too,” he joked as he walked to me and shook my hand.
“I thought you were in Italy?" I looked behind him, but Ezera wasn't there with him.
“I have been here for a week,” he slipped his hands into his pocket, “Business,” he added, “The wife is back in Italy; she is a few months pregnant and doesn't want to bother anyone."
“Ezera is pregnant?" my brows pinched together.
He smiled, “Yeah, but enough about that,” he waved his hands in the air, “I heard you were having a battle with some general."
My brow was raised.
“Words spread fast,” he clicked his tongue.
"Wait... a fight to the death!?” Anastasia explained.
Alexander's eyes soon fell on Anastasia.
“It's my friend's daughter,” I introduced myself.
He nodded at her, and she did the same.
“How many more days do you have?"
“Two,” I said.
His head flung back, “My wife would kill me if I ever agreed to something like that."
“My wife would die if I didn't,” I said, "he threatened her.
“You are fighting to the death?” Anastasia asked again.
Alexander scoffed, “She is inquisitive."
“You have no idea,” I began to walk away from the wine cellar, and Alexander followed.
“Do you need my help training for combat?"
“I have trained multiple soldiers, Alexander; I think I can hold my own in battle with a gun that can barely shoot."
“Please,” he begged.
“You are just looking for a way to punch me in the face, aren't you?"
He laughed, "Maybe."
I looked at him in awe; was Eloise pregnant?
Soon he would be a father; it made me think of myself too; I deeply wanted to be a father.