The Silent Symphony: echoes of destiny.

"The Wedding Gambit"

The clock's hands spun countless times. Many sunsets faded, and many moons rose. Days slipped away like dust in the wind, leaving those two to lead a miserable life ahead.
Chris, sitting in his cabin deep in thought, was interrupted by an employee. "Boss, there's a man here who says he is Joseph Stewart and wants to meet you."

"Send him in," Chris replied, snapping out of his reverie.
"Welcome, Mr. Stewart," Chris said warmly, stretching out his hand for a handshake.

"Christopher," Mr. Stewart replied, taking his hand. "I know you're busy, but I had no choice but to meet you at your gallery's office."

"No, it's totally fine. We can meet anytime," Chris assured him with a smile.

"I'm actually here to invite you to my daughter's wedding. It would be great to have you there."

"Pleasure, sir," Chris responded, accepting the invitation.

As they continued their conversation, Mr. Stewart mentioned the details of the wedding. Suddenly, Chris showed a keen interest in who the groom was, where he lived, and what he did. Mr. Stewart shared the information, not noticing the subtle tension building in Chris as they spoke.

As soon as Mr. Stewart left, Chris quickly grabbed his phone and made a call. "Kev, I need you in London by tomorrow morning," he said urgently, then hung up the call without waiting for a response.
The next morning, Chris descended the stairs, ready to leave. He was dressed in a sleek, black tailored suit that fit his tall, athletic frame perfectly. The crisp white shirt beneath his jacket contrasted sharply with the dark, midnight black tie that completed his look. A long, black overcoat draped over his shoulders added an air of authority and mystery, while polished black leather shoes clicked sharply against the floor. His hair was neatly styled, and a shadow of stubble on his face gave him an intimidating yet sophisticated appearance. He looked every bit the powerful, enigmatic figure, exuding a subtle but undeniable aura of danger.

At the bottom of the stairs, Kevin was waiting for him. Their greeting was informal, a simple nod exchanged between them.

"Let's go," Chris said, moving with purpose.

"But where?" Kevin questioned, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"We have to leave now. It's urgent. I'll explain everything in the car. Come on," Chris replied, already heading for the door.
"So, the thing is, tonight is Hazel's wedding," Chris began.

"Wow, are you going to go there to congratulate Hazel?" Kevin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not me, but you are going there to congratulate her. But as for me and Hazel..." Chris trailed off, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Man, what are you talking about? I have no idea what's going on. You've done nothing these past few days, and today you look like you're about to summon angels from heaven," Kevin replied, confused.

Chris glanced at Kevin with a playful wink, his hands still on the steering wheel. "Oh, I fell for that," Kevin muttered, shaking his head.

"Hold on tight, princess," Chris said with a grin as he accelerated the car, the engine roaring to life as they sped off.
Half the day had passed when Chris, exuding a powerful and commanding presence, entered a dimly lit room. He carried his coat in one hand, his sleeves rolled up to reveal a Rolex on his wrist and veiny hands with long, strong fingers. His tie hung loosely around his neck, untied, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, giving a glimpse of his well-built chest. Chris’s aura was intense, a mix of authority and danger, as he moved through the shadows with purpose.
Kevin followed closely behind Chris, looking scared and unsure of what was happening or what was about to unfold. His nerves were on edge, his mind racing with questions.

Chris was received by a guard, who led him to a door. "Boss, there he is," the guard said as Chris stepped inside. The guards quickly moved out, leaving Chris alone with a well-dressed man seated on a sofa. Despite the man's polished appearance, there was an unmistakable air of meanness about him.

Chris, unfazed, sat down next to him, his intense gaze fixed on the man as the tension in the room thickened. Kevin remained by the entrance, watching the scene unfold with apprehension.
"Mr. Ethan Wallace," Chris began, not looking at the man. "Age 30, height 175 cm, weight 187 pounds. Round face, French beard, eyes with 7.0 hypermetropia. Occupation: the one and only son of the owner of Wallace Hotel. Habitual of hanging out with girls."

Ethan shifted uncomfortably at the precise description. "Who are you?" he asked, trying to mask his unease.

"Oh, I dunno… me," Chris replied unseriously, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, keeping the atmosphere tense yet unpredictable.
"Babe," Chris shouted, gesturing towards Kevin to come in. Kevin, still nervous, squeezed himself behind a guard and peeped out timidly. His unease was palpable as he tried to gauge the situation from his concealed position.

Kevin came in and sat closer to Chris on the sofa.

"Do you know who he is?" Chris asked, glancing at Kevin.

Kevin shook his head, indicating no.

"He’s the one getting married tonight," Chris said, leaning back comfortably. Kevin, grasping the gravity of the situation, gasped loudly, covering his mouth with his hands.

"And he won’t be going to the wedding hall tonight," Chris continued.

Ethan, taken aback, asked, "What for?"

"Whatever you ask for," Chris replied nonchalantly.

"A hundred million dollars," Ethan said, smiling in a way that challenged Chris.

Chris raised his hand and moved two fingers, signaling someone to come in. A briefcase was brought to him, which he opened and glanced at Kevin, who was still in shock. Chris slid the briefcase towards Ethan and said, "A hundred and fifty million dollars."

Ethan’s challenging smile faded, and curiosity took over. "Reason?"

"The girl attracts me," Chris said matter-of-factly.

Ethan took the briefcase, nodded in acknowledgment, and said, "The girl is all yours."

Chris stood up and murmured, "What a greedy man." He then turned to Kevin and said, "Let's go, Kev. We’re getting late for my wedding."