When aristocratic Eddie inherits the family estate, he discovers that it's home to an enormous weed empire - and its proprietors aren't going anywhere.
Will he continue his father's business or will he leave. How would his family react, will he be...
Eddie approached the truck, his boots kicking up dirt with every step. He glanced up at the driver, a man with a thick mustache and a wary expression. Without missing a beat, Eddie switched to Turkish, his voice firm but polite.
"Selam, merhaba," he greeted the man with a nod.
The driver seemed to relax, recognizing Eddie's attempt at speaking his language. Eddie switched back to English with a light chuckle. "Ah. Hello, sir. Good afternoon."
The driver nodded, but before Eddie could say more, he spotted someone in the distance approaching. A man in a tailored suit, his posture stiff with purpose. It was Ahmed.
Eddie's casual demeanor faltered slightly as he turned to face the newcomer. Ahmed's presence alone was enough to signal that something serious was about to unfold.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Eddie muttered under his breath, his tone a mixture of dry humor and suspicion.
Ahmed stopped a few feet away, his expression unreadable. "Good afternoon, sir," he began, though his voice held a certain gravity.
Eddie's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer. "Ahmed," he greeted, his tone now tinged with concern. "I assume this isn't good news."
Ahmed sighed, shifting his weight slightly as if the words themselves were heavy. "It was a nasty fall."
Eddie's breath caught for a moment. He stared at Ahmed, waiting for him to elaborate. "Well, you could've just called me," Eddie said, his voice sharp, masking the growing tension in his chest.
Ahmed's lips pressed into a thin line. "We did, sir. Many times."
Eddie's brow furrowed, his mind racing. "Ultimately," Ahmed continued, "your brother decided, as the eldest son, that it was necessary to dispatch me, so I could impress upon you the severity of the situation."
Eddie stood still, his thoughts swirling. He ran a hand over his face, trying to process the words that hung heavily between them. He swallowed hard before asking the question that had been gnawing at him.
"Is my father gonna die, Ahmed?"
Ahmed hesitated, the weight of the answer visible in his posture. "His Grace's condition is... serious," he admitted, his tone low and somber.
The air seemed to still for a moment. The world outside the checkpoint faded into the background. Eddie exhaled slowly, the realization hitting him like a freight train.
Ahmed straightened his jacket, trying to maintain composure. "My instruction is to take you to the airport straight away. It's all been cleared with your superiors."
Eddie nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. "Right," he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "Let's go."
As the rumble of distant thunder echoed across the sky, Eddie turned back toward the checkpoint. His men were still busy handling the traffic, unaware of the storm brewing inside their commander.
Eddie raised his voice, addressing his second-in-command, Sergeant Charlie. "Sergeant!" he called out, his voice cutting through the noise.
Charlie hurried over, sensing that something had shifted. "Anything we can do to help, sir?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.
Eddie gave a small, tired smile. "You're in charge now, Charlie," he said, placing a reassuring hand on the sergeant's shoulder. "Till I get back."
Charlie nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation without needing to ask further questions. "Yes, sir," he replied, his tone steady.
With that, Eddie turned toward Ahmed, who was already waiting by the car. The sky darkened as the first raindrops began to fall, and Eddie knew that what lay ahead was far more complicated than the chaos of the checkpoint.
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Et voila, le chapitre 2 est bien fini (Yes im speaking French). I decided to write stories to get better in English and I hope it's going to pay off. Aussi DON'T FORGET TO VOTE PLEAAASE!!!!
