Billionaire’s Lost Angel

George paced back and forth in his spacious office, the dimly lit room creating an aura of mystery. He glanced at his reflection in the glass walls, adjusting his tie with an air of precision. The next day was the billionaire party, an event notorious for its opulence and indulgence. With a sly smile, he dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, Joy,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I need an escort for tonight, someone who can make heads turn and hearts skip a beat.”

Joy, his trusted accomplice, chuckled on the other side of the line. “Don’t you worry, George. I’ve got you covered. I’ll contact Caleb’s company, and you’ll have the best model by your side.”

Satisfied, George ended the call and leaned back in his leather chair. The thought of enchanting company for the evening made him feel invincible. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

As the sky darkened and stars twinkled overhead, George decided to take a detour before heading home. He strolled into the lively Bar, where his men were already enjoying their evening drinks. An atmosphere of laughter and camaraderie filled the air, encapsulating the essence of their bond.

“George! What brings you here tonight?” one of his men exclaimed, raising his glass.

“Just thought I’d join you lads for a while,” George replied, slipping onto a barstool. “Gotta enjoy life’s pleasures, you know?”

They chatted and laughed, indulging in stories of their daring exploits and reminiscing about past triumphs. The bar hummed with the energy of their camaraderie. However, as the night wore on, an ominous silence fell upon the room.

Suddenly, a gunshot pierced through the air, instantly shattering the tranquility. Chaos reigned supreme as George’s men scrambled for cover, instinctively protecting their leader. Bullets whizzed past, leaving scorch marks on the wooden bar and forcing the patrons to duck for cover.

“George! We’re being attacked!” cried one of his men, fear lacing his voice. “What do we do?”

Pressing his back against the bar, George assessed the situation. His enemies had launched a surprise assault, hoping to catch him off guard. But George Gentry was no ordinary man; he was a cunning villain, always one step ahead.

“Get to the back exit! We must escape!” George bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Leave these wesklings behind; we’ll settle our score another day!”

Swiftly, with a plan forming in his mind, George led his men towards the concealed exit. The air was thick with tension, each step filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. They evaded gunfire, relying on their well-honed instincts to stay one step ahead.

Finally reaching the back alley, they regrouped, panting from the adrenaline-fueled chaos they had just survived. George wiped sweat from his brow, his steely gaze unwavering.

“We may have escaped tonight, my friends,” George said, his voice laced with defiance, “but mark my words, they will pay for this audacity. They underestimated us, and now they’ll learn the consequences.”

…..

Lotus’s father, paced back and forth in his opulent office, his face etched with worry and guilt. The weight of his failure to protect his daughter gnawed at his conscience, consuming him with every passing day. He knew he had to act, to find Lotus and bring her back.

The two men that he trusted to find Lotus has not come back with any good news and it bothered him that is only daughter that reminded him of his beloved wife would slip out of his hands before he even recognises that she is gone.

With determined resolve, he called upon his loyal soldiers, men who had served him faithfully for years.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Bring me my men,” he commanded, his voice carrying a mix of desperation and determination. “We’re going to New York to find my daughter.”

The soldiers, attuned to their leader’s tones, swiftly assembled in Mr. Anderson’s office. They stood in a neat line, their expressions mirroring the seriousness of the task at hand.

“Men,” He began, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. “I have failed my daughter. But I will not let her suffer in the hands of those who took her away. We will find her, and we will bring her back home. This is our mission. In the past I filled her and treated her like a scum and now that her husband had divorce her I need to get her back.”

A chorus of resolute “Yes, sir” echoed through the room, each soldier pledging their unwavering loyalty to their leader. They understood the weight of their duty and the significance of their quest.

One soldier, Sergeant Thompson, stepped forward, his eyes filled with concern. “Sir, we understand your determination. But New York is a vast city, a needle in a haystack. How do we even start?”

Lotus father paused, his gaze fixated on a photograph of Lotus placed on his desk. He ran a hand through his graying hair, the lines on his aged face deepening. “My daughter’s captors are powerful and well-connected,” he replied, his voice filled with anguish. “But I have resources too. We will gather intelligence, gather every lead, and follow it until we find her. No matter the cost.”

The soldiers nodded solemnly, their faces masked with unwavering resolve. They had seen their leader triumph against insurmountable odds, and they believed in his abilities.

“Perhaps we can reach out to some informants in New York,” suggested Private Edwards, his voice steady as he pitched his idea. “They might have heard something or seen something that could point us in the right direction.”

Mr. Kent nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “Good thinking, Private Edwards. Coordinate with our contacts, gather any information you can. We need to be careful, though. Our enemies are cunning. Any misstep, and Lotus’s life could be in danger.”

Private Edwards saluted crisply before turning to leave the room, his mind already racing with plans and connections. The other soldiers dispersed as well, each assigned specific tasks to further the mission.

As the room emptied, Mr. Anderson remained alone, his gaze lingering on the photograph of his beloved daughter. He whispered a silent prayer, promising her that he would bring her back, that he would right the wrongs that had befallen her.