Chapter 38: Shadows Unleashed

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Jhon Queen's POV

The shrill ringtone of my phone cut through the silence of my plush office, disturbing the carefully curated aura of power and control. I glanced at the caller ID and couldn't suppress the surge of irritation as I saw Raphael's name flashing on the screen. His voice had a way of getting under my skin, even in the best of times.

I reluctantly answered the call, "Raphael, my friend, what can I do for you?"

Raphael's tone was laced with tension, his words heavy with accusation. "Jhon, we need to talk,"

My curiosity peaked, "Raphael, my friend," I said, my tone steady. "Of course, we can talk. What's on your mind?"

"Jhon, I've been receiving messages, anonymous messages," Raphael began cautiously. "They... they talk about us, about our rivalry, and your involvement in certain situations."

His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation. For a moment, I considered feigning ignorance, relying on the polished facade I had perfected over the years. But the urgency in Raphael's voice demanded more than just deflection.

"Messages? Raphael, you know how ruthless our industry can be. People will say anything to get ahead. You can't believe everything you read," I responded, my voice steady, my demeanor calculated.

Raphael's frustration was palpable, and I could sense that he wasn't going to let this go easily. He pressed on, his words carrying a weight that threatened to tip the balance of our delicate dance.

"I wish I could dismiss them, Jhon," he replied, his voice tinged with determination. "But there's more. I received documents, confidential documents that implicate you in some questionable actions."

A calculated pause hung between us, and when I spoke again, I allowed a hint of vulnerability to seep into my tone. "Raphael, I don't know what documents you're talking about, but you've been a close friend for years. You know me better than anyone. You know I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship or our success."

The charm in my words, the carefully crafted facade, was a tool I had relied on for years. It had served me well in maintaining control, in manipulating situations to my advantage. But this time, I could feel the doubt, the suspicion, chipping away at the trust we had once shared.

"I need the truth, Jhon," Raphael's voice remained firm, resolute. "I need to understand what's going on."

I sighed, allowing the weight of our history together to color my response. "Raphael, let's meet in person," I suggested, my voice laced with a semblance of regret. "We can go over whatever documents you have, and I'll explain everything. I don't want this to come between us."

We agreed on the time and place, though I could hear the uncertainty in Raphael's voice as he hung up. He had no inkling of what awaited him, of the betrayal I had orchestrated. Our past friendship, our camaraderie—it was all but a facade that had served its purpose.

As I hung up the phone, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the unexpected turn of events. Raphael's discovery had accelerated matters, and I needed to ensure that my carefully constructed world remained intact. The game was far from over, and I was prepared to play every card I had to protect what I had worked so hard to build.

With Raphael's call ending, I dialed a number I knew all too well. A voice on the other end answered, one I had grown accustomed to in the shadowy depths of my machinations.

"Is it done?" I asked, my tone devoid of emotion.

A gruff voice replied, "Yeah, he won't be causing any more trouble."

Satisfaction washed over me once more as I disconnected the call. Raphael's fate was sealed, though I couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation at his narrow escape. The man I had sent to silence him should have been more effective.

Moments later, my phone buzzed again, and I picked it up, expecting an update on Raphael's demise. However, the voice on the other end held a different message—one that stoked the embers of my fury.

"He got away," the man admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.

My grip on the phone tightened, my anger simmering beneath the surface. "You had one job," I hissed. "One job!"

The man's apology fell on deaf ears as I ended the call, seething at the unexpected turn of events. My meticulously crafted plan had unraveled, and Raphael had slipped through my fingers.

But I was not one to be deterred. After a few moments to collect myself, I called Raphael again, determined to regain control of the situation. My calls went unanswered, and I was left with no choice but to leave a voice message, my words laden with false concern.

Voice message from Jhon:

"Raphael, where are you? I've been waiting for you, and you didn't show up. I'm getting really worried. We need to talk about this. I'm heading to your place in about two hours to check on you. Please, call me back."

As I concluded the message, a dangerous glint danced in my eyes. Raphael's escape had only delayed the inevitable. I would find him, confront him, and ensure that he could no longer threaten the carefully constructed empire I had built.

Rising from my desk, I prepared to head to Raphael's house, my mind already spinning with plans to regain the upper hand. This cat-and-mouse game had only just begun, and I was determined to emerge victorious, no matter the cost.

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