It was 8:00 p.m. on a summer night in New Troney. The spectacular big glass door is hermetically sealed, with no air flowing in through the windows other than the flapping of the one ventilator on top.
The room is reasonably elegant and spacious, with a marbled floor. The doors are shut, cold and dark, and the silence fills the mansion save for the red-haired anchor-woman reporting on television:
"A tip of a suspicious car led to the arrest of Frederick Diggory, 28, on felony drug charges. The accused is said to be connected to the recent crimes......"
"Fuck!" yelled a man in his late forties, and the television screen shattered. "Hunter!" said the man as he rose from the chair, he was seated in.
A young man quickly handed him his crutches, while some men began cleaning the scattered glasses from the television. He rose up with the crutch and looked around the room at the men he had raised and trusted.
"Did you happen to notice that?" He roared, almost like a lion. And his men merely glanced down at the floor, embarrassed.
"Hunter!" He called once more. His rage was so clear that his troops around him trembled in fear.
His younger brother, Frederic Diggory, was the guy he adored. He was at his disposal, a devoted soldier in the end. And the news broke his heart.
"JJ.." Hunter, the man, stepped forward rapidly. He was still a young man, close to the age of a college graduate. But he has faith in this man. He was new, but he possessed the necessary talents and loyalty.
"Track out the jerk who arrested Fred. I'd like to know who's behind this." He gave the order.
"I agree, brother." Hunter provided assurance.
"And bring Fred home within the next 24 hours. I don't care what method you employ ".
"But JJ... " This time, the young man paused. Perhaps the young man was scared of breaking out of the prison.
"Hunter...I know you won't disappoint me." He ended angrily. It also boosts the young man's spirit.
Finally, these soldiers were there to carry out his orders and suit his requirements. Otherwise, blood would be on his hands once more, and no one would like that.
"Yes, JJ," Hunter answered as he turned to walk away.
"Hey". He came to a halt and hugged the younger man. "Return securely here with Fred. Remember, you're that brother I adore." He stated firmly, his gaze fixed on the young man's deep eyes.
"You don't fool with the Wolves." He grumbled angrily and lighted his Gurkha black dragon to vent his rage.
His business, which had been running effectively for twenty years, was now under attack. His troops were being slaughtered one by one, and his wounds were just just beginning to heal.
"Leg! Fucking leg! Wait until I come back to work ". He whispered, reaching for the bottle of wine on the refrigerator next to the shattered television.
But then something captured his attention: the project he had been working on. He came to a halt in front of his work table and glanced at his objective
"Oh... My old foe, Jongcheveevat Suppasit," he grinned as he poured the wine into his glass. "Why do I have the impression you're behind this?"
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Mr. Joongcheveevat & I
FanfictionA fateful evening, final year college student, Gulf Kanawut ends up sharing a ride in a cab with a stranger named Suppasit Jongcheveevat and finds himself attracted to him. But little does he know, the stranger has a bizzare secret. Things begin to...
