Whispers Of Chaos

| 1. 𝑶𝒐𝒑𝒔, 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

Ooh, baby, baby
Oops, I did it again
~ Britney Spears

Chapter 1: Oops, I did it again

The bustling city in the morning was quieter than the graveyard by night. As the night descended, monsters hidden in the dark alleys roamed freely on the empty streets.

Only a fool would suppose that the world is a safe place. Unknown to the danger that lurked in every corner.

"Boss," the man offered the lighter. The blue-ignited flame danced with the breeze and lit the face of the beast dressed as a gentleman. The man inhaled the cigarette until the end seared and let a perfect circle of white smoke.

Black leather gloves concealed his hands that toyed with the nicotine cylinder between his long fingers. He hollowed the cigarette—listening to the buyer until he crushed the remains under his boot.

"Mr. Sullivan," the bald man said in glee, his voice thick with Russian. His tone was polite. He knew the other party was not the one to be touched. The power the name Sullivan held was unfathomable.

The pinnacle of five families. Rafael Sullivan.

The bald man's eyes brightened at the sight of the gold bars he exchanged for a piece of paper. "It's a pleasure doing business with you," he laughed. Information is always expensive. And Sullivan had a lot to spend.

The Sullivan boss exchanged a blank stare with the man.

"It will always be a pleasure as long as we make profits," the right hand replied in perfect Russian. The right hand—Alaric spoke for his boss. A sly smile plastered across his face.

The Russian nodded casually, ignoring the right-hand man's words.

The brooding man's eyes narrowed. A disrespect to his men was a disrespect to him. And it did not sit well with him. "Leave," his voice echoed throughout the area. The man bowed his head, hugged the suitcase filled with gold to his chest, and left.

"The bald fucker is going to die soon," grumbled Alaric. The bald man's arrogance would lead to his demise.

"Alaric," warned the boss. Some things should not be said aloud, especially near the serenity of the lake while leaning on the car.

Alaric bowed his head in submission.

People around Sullivan stood upright, mindful of his venerable identity, while he maintained his lazy stance, leaning his head to the wall with his eyes closed, too bored for this world.

Alaric stilled, his gaze narrowed near the large trash can and the maroon hoodie probing against the dirty green box. His eyes constricted, noticing a human shadow cast by the moonlight on the brick walls.

His legs moved faster than anything else as he yanked the person up, grabbing their wrists firmly.

With a swift fluidity, the agile men surrounding the area raised their guns, their expressions hardening as they focused their sights on the unknown intruder. Muscles tensed, fingers twitching against the triggers, poised to unleash a hail of bullets at the mere command.

The boss, his eyes still closed, raised his hand in command. It was a subtle motion, yet it carried an unmistakable authority. The men, their hostile gazes unwavering, lowered their weapons.

"How much did you listen?" snarled Alaric. His eyes seethed. He was furious, and the person before him would die before they could blink.

"I-It hurts," a feeble feminine voice cried out as the individual struggled to unhand themselves from him.