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    E K Stokes
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Murder in Paradise - 2. Chapter 2

Three days earlier.

The morning light streamed through the large windows of Arnold Henderson's hotel suite, casting a warm glow on the sumptuous furniture. Arnold, a seasoned veteran of the modelling industry, sat behind the desk, his eyes scanning a stack of paperwork. His wife, Beverley, a woman of quiet strength and sharp intelligence, stood beside him, her gaze fixed on a framed photo of their younger days.

"Another beautiful morning in paradise, isn't it, darling?" Beverley remarked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of underlying tension.

Arnold nodded, his attention still focused on the documents. "Yes, indeed. A perfect day to close the Ardmani deal."

Beverley's lips curled into a subtle smile. "Or perhaps, a perfect day to send Roland packing."

Arnold's eyebrows raised in surprise. "What are you suggesting, my dear?"

"I'm suggesting that we've had enough of Roland's arrogance and his... indiscretions," Beverley replied, her voice low. "He's a liability, Arnold. A ticking time bomb."

Arnold leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "I know what you're thinking, but we need him. The Ardmani deal is too important."

"And what about the future of our agency?" Beverley countered. "Are we going to let Roland dictate our terms forever? No, Arnold. It's time to take back control."

A flicker of determination flashed in Arnold's eyes. He knew his wife was right. Roland was a wild card, a dangerous game-changer. But he also knew that they needed him, at least for now.

"We'll play it smart," Arnold said, his voice firm. "We'll use Roland to our advantage, and then we'll dispose of him."

Beverley nodded, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Exactly. And I know just the person to help us."

She turned to look at Arnold, her eyes filled with a secret promise. "Carlos."


◇ ◇ ◇

Carlos Sanchez moved with the practiced ease of a man who knew these streets intimately. The labyrinthine alleyways, the half-lit doorways, the hushed whispers – it was a world away from the glamorous facade of the modeling agency. Yet, it was a world he navigated with a certain dark expertise.

Roland's request had been simple: procure a specific substance, a substance that could silence a man without leaving a trace. It was a task that suited Carlos's skills and, more importantly, aligned with his own growing resentment towards the newcomer. Roland, with his smooth talk and predatory gaze, had inserted himself into a world that Carlos had long understood. And now, he would be the one to remove him.

As Carlos delved deeper into the heart of the favela, he made his way to a dilapidated building, a known haunt of the city's underworld. The air was thick with the scent of decay and danger, but Carlos moved with confidence. He knew the rules, understood the unspoken code. A quick exchange, a discreet transaction, and he was back on the streets, the package tucked away safely.

The plan was simple, yet deadly. A carefully timed accident, a slip in the night, a tragic mishap. With the right substance, it could be made to look like an unfortunate demise, a mere casualty of a wild night.

As Carlos walked away, he couldn't help but smile. Justice, in his own twisted way, was about to be served. Roland, the interloper, would soon learn that even in paradise, darkness lurks.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

Giovanni Salvatore sat at his sleek, modern desk, the hum of the city outside barely audible through the soundproof glass. He was a man of precision, a meticulous planner who relished the challenge of a well-executed campaign. The Ardmani deal was a significant opportunity, a chance to elevate the brand to new heights.

He'd been impressed by Roland's initial pitch, his vision for the campaign was bold and innovative. But as he delved deeper into the details, he began to see the cracks in the facade. Roland's influence over the models, particularly Alex, seemed excessive. It was a delicate balance, one that could easily tip over into exploitation.

However, Giovanni was a pragmatist. He understood the importance of relationships, of cultivating connections. A deal with Arnold Henderson's agency, despite its financial struggles, could still yield significant benefits. The models, especially Alex, had the potential to be real stars. Niomi, on the other hand, was a bit of an unknown. Her talent was undeniable, but her attitude could be a double-edged sword.

Giovanni leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the cityscape. He had the power to shape the future of this campaign, to determine which models would rise to stardom and which would fade into obscurity. It was a weighty responsibility, one that he would not take lightly. As he pondered his next move, he knew that the choices he made now would have far-reaching consequences.

Giovanni Salvatore, a man of precision and purpose, had made a decision. The Ardmani contract, a cornerstone of his strategic vision, demanded his personal attention. He wouldn't entrust such a significant deal to mere intermediaries, no matter how capable.

A swift call to his secretary, and the wheels were set in motion. A private jet, booked and ready. A discreet arrival, planned to coincide with the welcome party. It was a bold move, a calculated risk, but one that Giovanni believed would yield substantial rewards.

As he boarded the plane, his mind raced. He envisioned the scene: the sun-kissed beach, the exotic locale, and the assembled cast and crew. He would make a grand entrance, a surprise that would command attention. His presence would not only solidify the deal but also assert his authority over the project.

He thought of Alex, the young, promising model with a raw talent. There was something about him, a certain magnetism that set him apart. Giovanni was intrigued by the young man, his potential, and the enigmatic aura that surrounded him.

As the plane soared through the sky, Giovanni's anticipation grew. The stage was set, the players were in place. It was time for the show to begin.


◇ ◇ ◇

Carlos slipped the small vial into his pocket, a grim smile playing on his lips. He had delivered the message, a stark warning disguised as a business transaction. Roland, with his air of superiority and his penchant for manipulation, had underestimated the depths of the underworld.

The pills, small and innocuous, were a silent threat. A single dose could induce a deep, dreamless sleep, a double dose oblivion. Carlos had warned Roland of the potency, had watched as the man's eyes as they flickered with a mix of fear and fascination. It was a dangerous game, one that could easily turn deadly.

As Carlos walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing a part in a larger drama. The modeling agency, with its facade of glamour and success, was a breeding ground for secrets and deceit. Roland, a newcomer to this world, had quickly become entangled in its web of intrigue.

With three pills remaining, Carlos pondered his next move. Should he keep them as a bargaining chip, a tool to wield against Roland? Or should he dispose of them, severing the last thread connecting him to this dangerous game? The decision was a delicate one, a gamble with high stakes.


◇ ◇ ◇

Beverley leaned back in the plush leather seat, a sense of satisfaction washing over her. The plan was in motion, each piece falling into place. Carlos, her discreet and efficient accomplice, had delivered the message. Roland, with his arrogance and reckless behavior, had walked straight into the trap.

"He got the message, just as you asked," Carlos confirmed, his voice low and steady.

Beverley's lips curved into a subtle smile. "Good. Very good."

She glanced at him through the rearview mirror, her eyes meeting his. "He'll overstep eventually. We just have to make sure he does it at the right time."

Carlos nodded, understanding the unspoken threat. Roland was a dangerous man, capable of great harm. But he was also a fool, a man who believed himself invincible.

As the car pulled away from the hairdresser's, Beverley's thoughts turned to the future. The future of the agency, the future of her family. With Roland gone, they could finally breathe easy, free from his shadow. And with Alex and Jack, the future of the agency looked bright.

Thanks for your comments and thoughts. This chapter should throw in a few more things to think about...
Copyright © 2024 E K Stokes; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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As I suspected,  Roland has made made many enemies with his arrogant bullying behaviour. The question remains, which of his nemeses has sealed his fate, or perhaps he has suffered the same fate as Lanfranco Cassetti in Murder On The Orient Express, murdered by all his nemeses.

An exotic paradise, the perfect setting for debauchery of all kinds and murder @E K Stokes. This story has the hallmark of something really good. I look forward to reading more. Excellent writing thus far.

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