Mine to cherish

As he entered the space, a pungent blend of chemicals and burning flesh assaulted his senses. The air hung heavy with the unmistakable tang of blood, vividly conjuring images of crimson droplets splattering against the ground. Advancing toward the heart of the room, he encountered the figures who had made his previous night a tumultuous one. Some hung lifelessly from makeshift gallows, while others cowered in a corner, their faces etched with fear. The elderly couple, who had purportedly owned the bed and breakfast, sat bound to chairs, their bodies bearing the marks of brutal violence.

A handful of henchmen parted, brandishing clubs as they offered deference to Roger. Though he spared them only a passing glance, he acknowledged their presence with a slight nod. Traversing the perimeter, his gaze fell upon an array of weapons adorning the walls-each one a tool of potential destruction. His fingers grazed over them, exploring their textures and weights, before finally alighting upon a menacing, time-worn dagger.

Its curved blade and intricately carved handle spoke of age and dark history. Engaging in a brief inspection, he weighed its balance in his hand, considering its lethal potential. With a decisive flick of his wrist, he raised the blade aloft, scrutinizing its edge before ultimately casting it aside with a dismissive gesture.

The dagger found its mark with deadly precision, burying itself deep into the potbelly of one of the suspended men. A gut-wrenching cry tore through the air as the victim writhed in agony, his body contorting against the force of gravity.

"Cut him down," Roger commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos as he launched another dagger towards his prey.

With grim determination, he engaged in a macabre dance of death, dispatching each of them with ruthless efficiency, his arsenal of weapons serving as instruments of retribution. Yet, he reserved a special fate for the elderly couple, their faces etched with horror and recognition.

"Do you understand why you must die? You are criminals, masquerading under the guise of hospitality to prey upon the innocent," he bellowed, his voice tinged with righteous fury.

Stunned into silence, the couple awaited their grim fate, knowing full well the brutality that awaited them. Roger spared them no opportunity for defense, selecting a gleaming sword from the rack and unleashing a primal roar as he delivered swift justice. In a blur of motion, their heads rolled, severed from their lifeless bodies.

Adjusting his jacket with a casual air, Roger surveyed the scene, ensuring his attire remained pristine before exiting with eerie calmness.

"Dispose of the bodies discreetly, leaving no trace behind," he instructed Hales' cohorts, his words carrying an ominous finality.

Meanwhile, Chris stirred from uneasy slumber, greeted by unfamiliar surroundings that momentarily disoriented him. Recollection dawned as he took in his brother's room, its familiarity a balm to his confusion.

Rising to his feet, Chris winced at the ache that permeated his body, a testament to his uncomfortable night's rest on the hard floor. With weary determination, he retrieved his guitar, its strings whispering melodies of solace as he made his way towards the door.

Emerging into the corridor, he was met with a flurry of panicked activity, the household staff recoiling at his unexpected appearance. His mother, fraught with worry, rushed to his side, her touch a mixture of relief and concern.

"Where have you been, Chris? I was beside myself with worry," she exclaimed, her voice betraying her anxiety as she sought answers from her son.

"Chris, I'm safe now. I spent the night in Roger's room," he casually mentioned to his mother, heading towards his own room. Unbeknownst to him, he missed the horrified expression that briefly shadowed her face upon learning where he had been.

"Get dressed quickly. We have to meet someone," his mother urgently instructed just as he was about to step into his room.

An hour later, having taken a hasty shower and consumed a hurried breakfast of toast, Chris found himself seated in a chauffeur-driven car alongside his mother, departing from their lavish compound. He observed the cityscape blur by with disinterest until they reached the suburbs. The car slowed down and entered a sizable housing estate, eventually halting in front of a modern-style duplex.

Prompted by his mother, Chris exited the car and followed her inside. The residence belonged to Logan Russell, the Vice President at Crates, his late father's company. Puzzlement furrowed Chris's brow as he contemplated the events unfolding less than twenty-four hours after his father's death. Before he could inquire about their purpose, Logan ushered them into the living room.

Meanwhile, Mina relished a satisfying meal and adorned herself in the stylish, well-fitting clothes provided. Delighted by the thoughtful gesture, she packed her belongings-a slightly worn bag-and secured the note from Roger.

Turning it over, she discovered a detailed description of her parents' house. Brimming with joy, she skipped out of the hospital into the warm sunshine, almost reaching the gate before being halted by the nurse who had attended to her earlier.

She gasped for breath as the nurse pressed an envelope into her hands.

"He gave it to me. The young man said to use it to get yourself a cab home," the nurse informed her.

Mina couldn't believe her luck. Who would have thought that helping a man in need would lead her to a peaceful journey home?

Swiftly leaving the hospital, she hailed a cab and carefully followed the instructions on the note. Fifty minutes later, she stood at the gate of the estate where her parents resided. Thanks to Roger's detailed description, she was allowed in and found her way to the house.

Walking down the road, she reached the front of the house and marveled at its grandeur, far surpassing their previous residence. As she happily approached, her joy was interrupted by the sight of a car parked in the driveway, adorned with a driver in a uniform bearing the Crates logo. A wave of confusion crossed her as she pondered why someone from Crates would be present. Wasn't her father supposed to be at work?

Gazing up at the sky, she shielded her face with her hands, attempting to estimate the time. If she was correct, it should be around eleven in the morning. So, why was her father home at this hour?

Spotting several familiar faces among their domestic helpers from their previous house, she motioned for them to remain silent. Sneaking like a cat, she slipped through the front door and, to her luck, avoided Luke.

Navigating the hallway, she found a concealed spot in the living room, nestled between two arches, allowing her to eavesdrop on the ongoing conversation.

"I apologize, ma'am, but I'm unable to disclose the contents of the will prepared by the barrister," Logan asserted firmly.

Mina's mind raced as she pieced together the puzzle. If her father addressed someone as "ma" and arrived in one of Crates' cars, and she too desired knowledge of the will, then the woman must be her late father's widow and Roger's stepmother.

"Mr. Logan, you've been my husband's most trusted confidant, and I, too, place immense trust in you. But we desperately need your help to protect my son and me from Roger," the widow implored with visible distress etched on her face.

Mina's deduction proved accurate. She had anticipated correctly. With an inadvertent click of her tongue and a snap of her fingers, she inadvertently revealed her presence.

Chris, weary of the somber discussion and his mother's distraught appeals, perked up at the abrupt sound. His curiosity piqued, he rose from his seat and strode purposefully towards the source of the noise, leaving the three elders in the room perplexed by his sudden movement.

"Roger, please, just hear me out!" Chris pleaded, his voice trembling with frustration as he wrestled free from his brother's grasp, his chest heaving with emotion. Adjusting his disheveled attire and running a hand through his tousled hair, he straightened himself, his resolve firm.

Their father, entering the room with a calm demeanor that belied the tension, surveyed the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What's happening here?" His voice, deep and steady, cut through the charged atmosphere like a beacon of reason.

"Roger's accusing me of trying to steal the family legacy," Chris blurted out, his eyes wide with disbelief, his voice tinged with desperation. "Dad, tell me it's not true. Tell me you haven't already made up your mind."

Will, momentarily lost in his own thoughts, snapped back to reality at the sound of Chris's anguished words. His brow furrowed with the weight of responsibility as he contemplated the implications of his actions.

"Isn't that what you're doing, Dad?" Roger interjected, his tone defiant, his stance unwavering. "You're grooming him to take over, while I'm left in the shadows. I won't stand idly by and watch my birthright slip away."

***********

The car glided smoothly along the winding road, the grandeur of the mansion at the end of the drive coming into view with each passing moment. As it came to a halt before the imposing entrance, the driver sprang into action, eager to assist his passengers.

With practiced efficiency, he opened the car door, allowing a young man to emerge first, his demeanor exuding a blend of confidence and warmth. He extended a hand to assist his wife, who cradled their toddler daughter in her arms, her expression a mixture of anticipation and delight.

Stepping onto the elegant pavement, they were greeted by the butler, whose welcoming presence enveloped them like a comforting embrace. With gestures of deference, he guided them through the threshold and into the opulent living room, where an air of anticipation hung palpably in the air.

Before they could settle into their seats, the sound of joyous laughter echoed down the grand staircase, drawing their attention like a magnet. Smiles exchanged between husband and wife spoke volumes as they awaited the arrival of their host.

Descending the stairs with an air of genuine warmth, Will Park, the master of the estate, greeted his guests with open arms and genuine enthusiasm. "Ah, you've arrived! Allow me to introduce Mr. Logan Russell, the newest addition to Crates, a man of remarkable dedication and talent." Will's voice resonated with pride as he presented Logan to his wife, Nancy.

Nancy's eyes sparkled with genuine interest as she extended her hand in greeting, her warmth and hospitality evident in her every gesture. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Russell. Will has spoken so highly of you, it's a delight to finally make your acquaintance."

The warmth of their exchange extended to the youngest member of the party as Nancy enveloped Tracy Russell and her daughter in a heartfelt embrace, the bond of motherhood transcending boundaries of acquaintance.

As dinner was served upon the expansive dining table, the atmosphere buzzed with lively conversation and conviviality. However, the tranquility was shattered by an unexpected disturbance, the sound of shattering porcelain reverberating through the room.

In the midst of the commotion, two figures emerged, unmistakably the sons of Will Park, their presence commanding attention. With features reminiscent of their father but eyes that hinted at their own distinct personalities, they entered the room with contrasting demeanors.

Roger, the elder of the two, bore a stoic countenance, his grey eyes betraying an air of intensity that belied his youth, while Chris, his younger counterpart, radiated a sense of innocence and curiosity, his cerulean gaze alight with wonder.

As Will made the introductions, the dynamics of the gathering shifted, each member of the party drawn into the orbit of familial bonds and shared experiences. Amidst the laughter and camaraderie, alliances were forged and connections deepened, weaving a tapestry of relationships that would endure far beyond the confines of that singular evening.

Five years later.

"Hi Trisha. Is the Chairman in? I got his message a while ago to see him in his office."

Logan Russell approached the head secretary to the chairman and asked.

Trisha flashed him a seductive smile and nodded with her eyes narrowed into slits. She'd had a crush on him since she started working at Crates for the past four years and now, she was the head secretary to the chairman.

She knew the chairman was out of her reach since he always had his face set in stone but Logan, who was the Vice President always had a smile for everyone he came across.

"Yes, he's in. Let me inform him." She told him and began to dial the connecting land phone. She spoke quietly into it and flashed him a smile to go in.

Logan walked to the door in trepidation. He wasn't sure what was going to happen. He got into the spacious office and noticed with a frown that the chairman had suddenly grown older in the five years he had began working for him.

"Mr Logan, you're here. Have a seat." Will Park welcomed him warmly and gestured towards one of the seats before him. Logan settled into it relieved and folded his hands in his laps like the gentleman he was.

"Gave you had lunch? I was thinking we could have lunch together at the cafeteria?" Will asked with another smile.

Logan was too polite to decline. He felt it would be an insult to the chairman. So, nodding his head to the chairman's request,he stood up while he waited for him to lead the way.

They got to the cafeteria and the chefs on duty all rushed to attend to the chairman's order. Soon, they are comfortably seated in a private corner that allowed them a great view of the cafeteria.

"I called you here because I had something to discuss with you." Will Park started after eating a few bites of food and wiping his mouth.

Logan dropped his cutlery and paid attention to what the chairman wanted to say.

"I take it that your daughter is now six years old, right? He asked as Logan nodded in assent wondering where this discussion was heading.

"If I may ask sir,I hope there's no problem?" He asked a bit reverently.

"Oh! There's nothing to be scared of. I just like her. Would you bring her to the house for a visit on Saturday? I just love her being around my boys, especially Chris."

The chairman said wistfully and sipped from the up 9f tea before him. For some reason, Logan found it weird that the chairman was drinking tea on place of coffee but it wasn't his place to ask why so he kept mum.

He kept ruminating in his mind why he had to bring his daughter to the chairman's house on Saturday but he didn't find any answer.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and felt that it wasn't the first time the chairman was making such request, however,he found it weird this time around.

Logan Russell, impeccably dressed and exuding an air of professionalism, approached the head secretary, Trisha, with a sense of purpose. "Hi Trisha. Is the Chairman in? I got his message a while ago to see him in his office," he inquired, his tone a blend of formality and courtesy.

Trisha, the head secretary to the chairman, responded with a seductive smile, a subtle acknowledgment of her longtime crush on Logan. She nodded, her eyes narrowing into slits as she spoke, "Yes, he's in. Let me inform him." With that, she reached for the connecting land phone, her fingers dancing across the keys as she whispered quietly into the receiver, granting Logan permission to proceed.

As Logan entered the spacious office, a furrow appeared on his brow as he observed the chairman, Will Park, sitting behind his desk. The passage of five years seemed to have etched age onto the chairman's countenance. Nonetheless, Will greeted him warmly, gesturing for Logan to take a seat.

"Mr. Logan, you're here. Have a seat," Will welcomed, his demeanor still gracious despite the subtle signs of aging. Logan settled into the offered seat, maintaining his composed and gentlemanly posture.

"Have you had lunch? I was thinking we could have lunch together at the cafeteria," Will suggested, his eyes crinkling with a friendly smile. Logan, ever the polite professional, nodded in agreement, standing up to follow the chairman.

In the bustling cafeteria, the chefs hurried to attend to the chairman's order as Logan and Will found a secluded corner. With a panoramic view of the bustling activity, they engaged in casual conversation before the chairman steered the discussion toward a more serious note.

"I called you here because I had something to discuss with you," Will began, pausing to savor a few bites of his meal. Intrigued, Logan set down his cutlery, giving the chairman his full attention.

"Your daughter is now six years old, correct?" Will inquired. Logan, a bit taken aback, nodded, uncertain where the conversation was headed. "If I may ask, sir, is there a problem?" Logan added, a tinge of reverence in his voice.

Will Park quickly dispelled any concerns, expressing admiration for Logan's daughter. "There's nothing to be scared of. I just like her. Would you bring her to the house for a visit on Saturday? I adore having her around my boys, especially Chris," Will said wistfully, taking a sip of tea from the cup before him.

Logan, though puzzled by the chairman's unusual request, didn't feel it was his place to question. As he pondered the chairman's words, he couldn't shake the sense of strangeness surrounding this invitation. Nonetheless, he simply shrugged, deciding to comply with the request and bring his daughter for a visit on Saturday.

"Roger, please, just hear me out!" Chris pleaded, his voice trembling with frustration as he wrestled free from his brother's grasp, his chest heaving with emotion. Adjusting his disheveled attire and running a hand through his tousled hair, he straightened himself, his resolve firm.

Their father, entering the room with a calm demeanor that belied the tension, surveyed the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What's happening here?" His voice, deep and steady, cut through the charged atmosphere like a beacon of reason.

"Roger's accusing me of trying to steal the family legacy," Chris blurted out, his eyes wide with disbelief, his voice tinged with desperation. "Dad, tell me it's not true. Tell me you haven't already made up your mind."

Will, momentarily lost in his own thoughts, snapped back to reality at the sound of Chris's anguished words. His brow furrowed with the weight of responsibility as he contemplated the implications of his actions.

"Isn't that what you're doing, Dad?" Roger interjected, his tone defiant, his stance unwavering. "You're grooming him to take over, while I'm left in the shadows. I won't stand idly by and watch my birthright slip away."

***********

The car glided smoothly along the winding road, the grandeur of the mansion at the end of the drive coming into view with each passing moment. As it came to a halt before the imposing entrance, the driver sprang into action, eager to assist his passengers.

With practiced efficiency, he opened the car door, allowing a young man to emerge first, his demeanor exuding a blend of confidence and warmth. He extended a hand to assist his wife, who cradled their toddler daughter in her arms, her expression a mixture of anticipation and delight.

Stepping onto the elegant pavement, they were greeted by the butler, whose welcoming presence enveloped them like a comforting embrace. With gestures of deference, he guided them through the threshold and into the opulent living room, where an air of anticipation hung palpably in the air.

Before they could settle into their seats, the sound of joyous laughter echoed down the grand staircase, drawing their attention like a magnet. Smiles exchanged between husband and wife spoke volumes as they awaited the arrival of their host.

Descending the stairs with an air of genuine warmth, Will Park, the master of the estate, greeted his guests with open arms and genuine enthusiasm. "Ah, you've arrived! Allow me to introduce Mr. Logan Russell, the newest addition to Crates, a man of remarkable dedication and talent." Will's voice resonated with pride as he presented Logan to his wife, Nancy.

Nancy's eyes sparkled with genuine interest as she extended her hand in greeting, her warmth and hospitality evident in her every gesture. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Russell. Will has spoken so highly of you, it's a delight to finally make your acquaintance."

The warmth of their exchange extended to the youngest member of the party as Nancy enveloped Tracy Russell and her daughter in a heartfelt embrace, the bond of motherhood transcending boundaries of acquaintance.

As dinner was served upon the expansive dining table, the atmosphere buzzed with lively conversation and conviviality. However, the tranquility was shattered by an unexpected disturbance, the sound of shattering porcelain reverberating through the room.

In the midst of the commotion, two figures emerged, unmistakably the sons of Will Park, their presence commanding attention. With features reminiscent of their father but eyes that hinted at their own distinct personalities, they entered the room with contrasting demeanors.

Roger, the elder of the two, bore a stoic countenance, his grey eyes betraying an air of intensity that belied his youth, while Chris, his younger counterpart, radiated a sense of innocence and curiosity, his cerulean gaze alight with wonder.

As Will made the introductions, the dynamics of the gathering shifted, each member of the party drawn into the orbit of familial bonds and shared experiences. Amidst the laughter and camaraderie, alliances were forged and connections deepened, weaving a tapestry of relationships that would endure far beyond the confines of that singular evening.

Five years later.

"Hi Trisha. Is the Chairman in? I got his message a while ago to see him in his office."

Logan Russell approached the head secretary to the chairman and asked.

Trisha flashed him a seductive smile and nodded with her eyes narrowed into slits. She'd had a crush on him since she started working at Crates for the past four years and now, she was the head secretary to the chairman.

She knew the chairman was out of her reach since he always had his face set in stone but Logan, who was the Vice President always had a smile for everyone he came across.

"Yes, he's in. Let me inform him." She told him and began to dial the connecting land phone. She spoke quietly into it and flashed him a smile to go in.

Logan walked to the door in trepidation. He wasn't sure what was going to happen. He got into the spacious office and noticed with a frown that the chairman had suddenly grown older in the five years he had began working for him.

"Mr Logan, you're here. Have a seat." Will Park welcomed him warmly and gestured towards one of the seats before him. Logan settled into it relieved and folded his hands in his laps like the gentleman he was.

"Gave you had lunch? I was thinking we could have lunch together at the cafeteria?" Will asked with another smile.

Logan was too polite to decline. He felt it would be an insult to the chairman. So, nodding his head to the chairman's request,he stood up while he waited for him to lead the way.

They got to the cafeteria and the chefs on duty all rushed to attend to the chairman's order. Soon, they are comfortably seated in a private corner that allowed them a great view of the cafeteria.

"I called you here because I had something to discuss with you." Will Park started after eating a few bites of food and wiping his mouth.

Logan dropped his cutlery and paid attention to what the chairman wanted to say.

"I take it that your daughter is now six years old, right? He asked as Logan nodded in assent wondering where this discussion was heading.

"If I may ask sir,I hope there's no problem?" He asked a bit reverently.

"Oh! There's nothing to be scared of. I just like her. Would you bring her to the house for a visit on Saturday? I just love her being around my boys, especially Chris."

The chairman said wistfully and sipped from the up 9f tea before him. For some reason, Logan found it weird that the chairman was drinking tea on place of coffee but it wasn't his place to ask why so he kept mum.

He kept ruminating in his mind why he had to bring his daughter to the chairman's house on Saturday but he didn't find any answer.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and felt that it wasn't the first time the chairman was making such request, however,he found it weird this time around.

Logan Russell, impeccably dressed and exuding an air of professionalism, approached the head secretary, Trisha, with a sense of purpose. "Hi Trisha. Is the Chairman in? I got his message a while ago to see him in his office," he inquired, his tone a blend of formality and courtesy.

Trisha, the head secretary to the chairman, responded with a seductive smile, a subtle acknowledgment of her longtime crush on Logan. She nodded, her eyes narrowing into slits as she spoke, "Yes, he's in. Let me inform him." With that, she reached for the connecting land phone, her fingers dancing across the keys as she whispered quietly into the receiver, granting Logan permission to proceed.

As Logan entered the spacious office, a furrow appeared on his brow as he observed the chairman, Will Park, sitting behind his desk. The passage of five years seemed to have etched age onto the chairman's countenance. Nonetheless, Will greeted him warmly, gesturing for Logan to take a seat.

"Mr. Logan, you're here. Have a seat," Will welcomed, his demeanor still gracious despite the subtle signs of aging. Logan settled into the offered seat, maintaining his composed and gentlemanly posture.

"Have you had lunch? I was thinking we could have lunch together at the cafeteria," Will suggested, his eyes crinkling with a friendly smile. Logan, ever the polite professional, nodded in agreement, standing up to follow the chairman.

In the bustling cafeteria, the chefs hurried to attend to the chairman's order as Logan and Will found a secluded corner. With a panoramic view of the bustling activity, they engaged in casual conversation before the chairman steered the discussion toward a more serious note.

"I called you here because I had something to discuss with you," Will began, pausing to savor a few bites of his meal. Intrigued, Logan set down his cutlery, giving the chairman his full attention.

"Your daughter is now six years old, correct?" Will inquired. Logan, a bit taken aback, nodded, uncertain where the conversation was headed. "If I may ask, sir, is there a problem?" Logan added, a tinge of reverence in his voice.

Will Park quickly dispelled any concerns, expressing admiration for Logan's daughter. "There's nothing to be scared of. I just like her. Would you bring her to the house for a visit on Saturday? I adore having her around my boys, especially Chris," Will said wistfully, taking a sip of tea from the cup before him.

Logan, though puzzled by the chairman's unusual request, didn't feel it was his place to question. As he pondered the chairman's words, he couldn't shake the sense of strangeness surrounding this invitation. Nonetheless, he simply shrugged, deciding to comply with the request and bring his daughter for a visit on Saturday.