Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Twenty-one

Anthony Ochudo was a correspondent in the Life and Arts section of the Vanguard newspaper, and, over the years, he’d garnered a lot of respect and accolades, not because of his contributions but because of his daring and open criticisms against the reigning governments of the times. He was extremely radical in his opinions, and he was often on the lookout for policies to lambast.

Now, he’d found the perfect victim in the movie actor, T. O. Phoenix. Lately, he had been complaining that there was nothing new and juicy to add to the column, and then when the stunning actor cropped up on the screens, he knew that he’d found the perfect face for his column. At first, his criticism of the guy was mild, but then, the derogatory opinion many people had of the guy then fuelled him on and he went on to write more saucy and damaging opinions of the guy. And his ratings went up with people.

As he wiped his lips with his paper napkin, Anthony belched with satisfaction. The meal he’d just consumed was extremely satisfactory, a token from some anonymous person who had requested to meet him. Already, the door was swinging open, and Anthony’s lips curled into smile and he relaxed back into his chair.

Three men stepped into the room, the door snapping shut behind them. There was a very noticeable disparity between them, because, even though they were all very well dressed, the two muscular guys flanking the younger man appeared to be bodyguards. They were both huge and beefy, but their hugeness was all pure muscle, not fat; their chests were roped with heavy muscles. The younger man in the middle was a beauty to behold, with a very well-sculpted, trim physique, hair that had been very professionally barbered, well-defined features that rendered him beautiful without being effeminate and a very sensuous mouth that rendered him a killer for the female folk. When he smiled, revealing a row of strong white teeth, he looked almost ethereal. He was that handsome.

‘Anthony Ochudo,’ the young man addressed the journalist in a very cultured voice. He moved forward towards the table, and the two other men hung back, confirming Anthony’s suspicions that they were just the bodyguards, hence inconsequential. This young man was the main koko.

Anthony was now fidgeting nervously with his hands, for there was this slight prickling at the back of his neck, telling him that there was something off about them. Even though the sculpted Adonis standing before him was smiling, there seemed to be an undercurrent of hostility flowing from him.

The young man’s smile turned into an O of surprise as he remembered something. ‘Sorry, but I forgot to introduce myself. But I feel it’s unnecessary. However, you remember T. O. Phoenix, the actor? I know you remember him quite well.’ And then the young man turned away from the room and faced the window as a babble of loud voices floated up from the street.

Anthony was unnerved by the sudden silence, so totally unmanned by the loaded menace that seemed to radiate from these men that he started to talk, supplying answers to questions that had not been asked.

‘If you’re talking about the articles I had written about the guy, I want you to know that I never intended to smear his character. As you know, people always love a little scandal, a little that’s out of the ordinary, so I try to supply them with what they want to read to spice up their days. The articles are all a joke.’

The young man who had remained fixated on the window turned to the room again, and this time, he stroked his smooth chin, his finger flashing a ring with a diamond as big as a mango. ‘I agree with you that it was a joke,’ he said, and then he smiled. ‘So is what I intend to do to you.’

As if from an unspoken signal, the two hefty men who had remained still and silent like marble statues surged forward swiftly and silently. Before Anthony could draw away from them, they were upon him and he felt hands as strong as iron grips grip him, and he opened his mouth to scream, fear ripping through him, but one powerful blow landed on his forehead, freezing the scream on his lips. He felt very dizzy as a pool of blackness rushed up at him, and then, through the fog of pain that clouded his mind, he felt his hands pinioned behind him. The young man who had the beauty of a Greek god was smiling at him now.