IF YOU MUST RUN

1:THE PROPOSAL

CHAPTER 1*
There are better places to be born, and that does not include the white house, or some palace so you can be called a Prince or a princess or a family of the rich where there is always someone praying and yearning to put a bullet through your head. It do be lovely to be born in a poor family where everyone loves each other and likes being around each other rather than having a stinking rich family, with a famous grandfather and an animal like father with a thousand enemies. Living in a villa where more than a thousand people have lost their lives in. A ghostly mansion that everyone on the outside would admire to live in. The taste of ancient and modern was certainly una resistible lavish and classy. Who wouldn't want such a house to live in? The answer would be no one if only the five great sons of Eduard Arnuad weren't in existence.
The rich fellow has five sons, and three wives. His favourite wife disappointed him when she eloped with a middle class man a month ago to her private island to enjoy a simple life she wanted. Who would think a woman can be fed up with a fancy life and choose to rub off? Her name is Jade Sera Arnuad. An American, the daughter it a parliamentary candidate who knows not the meaning of suffering or lacking money.
The second wife she is, after the first wife who is more of a house wife. Unlike the other two women of Eduard she loves a silent life. A silent life without any drama or trouble. She writes at her study all day, shops once in a while and drinks her coffee by the stove with eyes closed in her favourite rocking chair. Her name is Clarabelle Arnuad. The last wife who is always by the side of her dearest husband, Emma Watson Arnuad is the youngest of them all. She is one of the Mafia mercenaries of her husband. She loves her life as a mafia queen and enjoys the freedom of the underworld nations. She loves the drinks the games the men and the party life. She has one son, Alistair Carlos Arnuad who she didn't care much about. Actually she didn't care at all.
Arnuad has five sons in total. Two from his first two wives each and one from the last wife. The first wife has Alan Young and Calvin Harris. The second has Liam Payne and Raphael Girard. The first three sons left their father's house to live their lives while the last two were warned against the same idea of running off by their Father himself. He needed someone to take care if his territory, his wealth and he wasn't the kind who was well behaved around people to let his wealth be squandered or be spent by anyone who didn't deserve it. He entrusted his three companies to his son Raphael Girard and the territory of the underground was in his hands. It was more likely his last son Alistair would be the one to inherit the kingdom. But... Was he capable enough? It is not that he would hesitate to kill anyone or take the law into his hands. He could do all that but how well could he rule? Would he let his territory crumble into nothing, his sweat go into waste just because his son was not too good or good at all?
There was no answer to that yet, but there was a way of finding one though. Testing the waters was the solution and if he wasn't competent enough then he will have to work to be competent to do what he was born to do.
Eduard Arnuad sat in his spacious office leaning back on his seat, his long flexible legs stretched on the desk with neatly arranged files. One thing he didn't like is being or seeing things disorganised all over the place. He lowered his reading glasses sighed slowly and lifted his eyes towards the door. His dark eyes were so hollow that no one could fathom what he was thinking or planning to do. He had that threatening gaze and an aura that was so demeaning and demanded submission and acknowledgement from Everyone around. Whenever he entered a lively room the temperature could suddenly drop to a negative digit and silence would prevail till he walked out of sight.
He had the tendency of making heart rates speed into eighty something beats in a second without making any effort. His voice alone was enough to make lips quiver and knees buckle.
He snapped his fingers and shifted his gaze back to the wide window. He was casually checking out the streets when a black Mercedes sprinter sped by the building. It made a sharp turn to the left but unluckily collided into a trailer moving in a snail speed. The car was scraped badly and was turned over and slammed into the wall of a building nearby. Screams and shouts erupted within seconds as a crowd gathered staring on.
Then, the car door was violently kicked till it got snapped from its hinges. A tall massive man stepped out if the car, his face was bathed in blood that no one could recognise him. A deep cut sliced over his left eye long enough to stretch past his hair line and down below around his nose. He looked like a mess but the way he stood, no one could think he was injured at all. Then he yanked off the passenger door seat and dragged out a grey haired man who was unconscious. He threw him over his shoulders walked past the crowd and disappeared into the alley. As soon as he had disappeared a couple of heavy vehicles halted at the scene and a few mercenaries stepped out. They seemed to questions the people around then followed into the alley before the cars they were in were driven to the opposite direction. Not long after when police sirens and an ambulance halted at the spot. A bunch of police men stepped out but we're surprised to only find a destroyed car and blood all over the place. Eduard blinked a few times and stood up.
"Get the car ready, am going to the Villa in the South" he commanded coldly
"Yes sir" his butler responded from outside
He picked his briefcase and walked out of the office. Immediately a young woman rushed in to tidy the office. Eduard walked into his private elevator where two of his body guards were already waiting patiently. He stood there as one of them operated the elevator and the other took away the briefcase in his hands. Once he was at the basement the car door was opened by the chauffeur, front passenger seat was already occupied by his personal assistant, he sat at the back seat in between his two body guards. The car pulled out of the underground packing into the private road that was always used only by the wealthy.