Betrayal✔

Chapter 1🔗

~Xavier Anderson~

"Hey babe."

"Hi," she chirped, "how was lunch with your father?"

"Alright."

"What time will you be here?"

"Seven thirty, eight."

"Good, because I'm making dinner and I'll be serving your favourite desert- me."

"Definitely my favorite desert,"
I chuckled, removing a cigarette from the pack on the table.

"I'm excited for tonight- a specific part of me," I teased as I leaned my head to the side to support the phone between my ear and shoulder. I lit the cigarette, taking a deep breath.

"How many now?" she bugged.
Amanda tried to make me quit smoking and she was doing a great job. Ever since we started dating, I only smoked a maximum of three cigarettes a day.

"Second," I answered immediately, not wanting to disappoint her. I inhaled slowly, my system responding to the smoke.

"Damn it," she cursed through the line and I heard a faint shatter.

"What happened?"

"I broke the salad bowl. I'll talk to you later, after I finish cleaning this mess. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Don't be late," she quickly added.

"I won't. I promise," I assured her before closing the line.

Dropping the phone on the table in my room, I walked towards the bedside table and opened the drawer.

I sighed getting out the black metal case my father got me when I turned eighteen and five years later I never used it. I just kept it in this drawer with a decision I have never made.

Closing my eyes, I sat on the bed, the cigarette still between my lips, my hands brushing over the case. After talking two more puffs, I pulled the ashtray and extinguished the cigarette, squashing it against the glass until it was put out completely.

You see not all of us live ordinary lives. I have always thought we were a normal family with my father always cursing and having so much men and guards around for the sake of it, but I was so wrong. Everything I had in mind was wrong and I found out in the worst way. I found out when a bunch of armed men barged into the house and took my mother away while I watched it all though from the keyhole of the storage room. A twelve year old kid who did exactly what his mother had asked him and regretted for the rest of his life.
The memory still played in my head five years later raw and flowing like a river.

I opened up the box revealing a customised gun which was so dear to my father.

The gun was gold plated with a short muzzle. It was Russian, of course, my dad had always bought his weapons from his Russian mafia friends.

Slowly and steadily I lifted the gun from the case.

The metal was cold in my hand, icy, poisonous and foreign. It was light and compact. The black body and golden barrel along with it's intrinsic details gave the impression that it had been crafted with care; handmade to be precise.

He had given it to me as a request to join them. If it weren't for the mafia, my father and I wouldn't have lost my mother.

Amanda's smile appeared in my head and I smiled as I brushed my hand over the writings on the gun.

She was the love of my life; I had met her a year ago and I've never been happier with someone. I dreaded the thought of ever losing her forever or putting her in danger.

I packed the gun back into the case and went to my father's office with a firm decision in my head.

"Are you threatening me Geoff?" I heard my father snarl as I was about to knock on the door. I suddenly retreated from doing so.

Holding the case to my chest and standing in a way so that I could be able to eavesdrop and not be caught, I listened to the rest of his conversation.

"Leave my son out of this, this is between me and you."

"Bloody hell... without our men just both of us... you have my word."

"I'll meet you in an hour." These were the last words I heard my father say before I rushed to my room and opened up the case to get out my gun.

I chose to do nothing a few years ago and I lost my mother, but this time I have to do something, I couldn't lose my father.

I then headed to the garage and ignited my bike, ready to follow him.

●●●

It was almost an hour since we left and I'd been carefully driving behind him in a way not to get caught, wondering why he didn't take any of his men. The road and the atmosphere seemed unfamiliar and I felt uncertainty down in my stomach.

We were on an endless straight road, which made the ride feel dull but I prepared myself as I noticed him take a turn onto an abandoned street which looked recently tarred from the monochrome patchwork. It seemed like a straight street with no turns ahead so I decided to slow down the bike, keeping an eye on my father's car.

Waiting a few minutes next to an unpainted concrete wall by the side of the road, I loaded the gun and prepared it.

I then hopped off the bike and started scanning the area. I looked up at the sky as I walked around. A fiery red orb of light slowly sank beneath the horizon, and threads of light lingered in the sky, mingling with the rolling clouds, dyeing the sky an orange-red shade.

I inspected the area, scrutinizing the crumbling walls that were nothing more than a ghostly silhouette of some previous existence. Wondering why would my father meet up with someone here, I walked in the direction I saw my father drive to. The wind whistled through the very little available trees. My nostrils flared at the dust particles invading my nose, making me sneeze. I cursed under my breath while I rubbed my nose in hopes of not having to go through another sneeze.

As I got closer, a warehouse came into sight.
I stepped away from the tarred road onto a sandy path which would lead me directly to the warehouse. There were two cars parked in front of it: one which I clearly recognized as my fathers and the other was unfamiliar but that didn't bother me. What bothered me was the feeling of fear gnawing at me.

As I walked towards the warehouse, I tried as much as possible not to make any unwanted sounds.

I then sneaked next to the metal door of the warehouse. Fortunately, the door was half open and their blustering was evident.