It was all figured out.
Last month, when the girls broke into his office after acquiring his face and fingerprint sculpture, he didn't sleep.
Instead, Tim spent all night monitoring the hidden cameras inside his office.
He wasn't stupid, he planned that to happen. But not Gwyneth's death. Almost two decades ago, Tim sent a messenger to slid the threat inside the Purdoms' vacation house in Seychelles. At that moment, he was prepared physically and mentally after devising the plan for years.
Tim wanted to wipe Alistair Purdom out of the earth. Kill him. Murder him. Whatever it takes.
The letter was supposed to be discovered seventeen years earlier, where he threatened to kill their unborn child just shift the entire proctection towards Jasmine and not Alistair. It would be easier for him when the security are escorting Jasmine everywhere, ruining their vacation and forcing them to depart home — where Tim would be waiting for them, and shoot Alistair in the heart.
Of course, something would ruin his plan. A typhoon warning caused the Purdoms' to pause their vacation, then filed for a divorce once the child was borned. Alistair could never step his foot at the Seychelles vacation house ever again.
Tim was young, and after failing miserably to conduct a murder, he joined the military and business school. As long as he was far away from Rosefalls, he would be rest assured.
But when he returned after his father died, and inheriting the notable inordinate academy as the chairman, he knew he had to stay.
And that uncalled inherintance, made him face his utmost detestable opponent. With his grown up daughter, attending the academy, his revenge was slowly burning up.
It was all about Alistair Purdom, the one that got away with everything. The sad thing about the honesty or the grace behind Purdoms, was that Tim knew they weren't the purest while handling businesses. He knew about Alistair killing off those who went against him, and even went as far as purchasing the Falkov's properties.
Tim's father went through hell to brought it all back, all caused by the young filthy entrepreneur's doing, but the media, the press never caught a moment.
He got away, and Tim was angry.
That was why Tim stole the recorded data entities, of those Alistair tried to remove. All kept in one file. The profiles of those Alistair murdered, assaulted or blackmailed. All inside the encrypted coded file.
He even wondered, why would the nonsensical man kept the secrets instead of disposing it. But as Tim grew older, he understood it clearly.
It was an act of remorse.
And if Tim wanted to expose the truth, it won't spread through his hand. The kids would have to dig through it.
Is he ruining his own career, his life?
Tim didn't care, as long he avenged his father.
He waited, and waited. Not long after, a slender figure entered his reading room red-eyed, his fingers fisted till his veins bulging.
"Scared already?" Tim's gruffed voice boomed across the once silent reading room. Despite knowing the decision the boy was making, he didn't falter. Tim was two steps ahead.
Dusting off his suit, he pushed the backwards as he stood up, then beckoning the boy to take a seat at one of the couches.
As the boy sat, he opened his mouth before closing it back. Hesitating.
"I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sick of it,"
Oh. That was too predictable.
But Tim knew better. "I see," he smiled, as the boy eyed him rather oddly. In Tim's mind, all he harbored was hatred.
Tim hated remorseful people.
When he recruited the boy, he saw a merciless man taking revenge, just like him. Lest he was wrong.
His smile turned crooked, haunted, as he lifted his face. If he was going down, he would bring the boy along.
When the boy's phone dinged, Tim took his coat from the hanger and slipped out of the room. Leaving the boy kicking and thrashing in remorse.
After all, the boy was the one who killed Gwyneth, not him. It was a surplus to torture Alistair, which was kind of a great notion.
The more he suffer, the better.
"See you in hell, Lior." he remarked sinisterly.
☣☣☣
The sirens, the red and blue light flickering and emitted a purple in close measure.
Tim embraced it all.
"Time's up, Alistair." he whispered, looking at the defeated Purdom, sunk on his chair.
He was about to leave, when Alistair whimpered. "Why didn't you just kill me, why my daughter?"
To Timothy, if it was a movie, he would've shed a tear at how sympathetic was his tone. Melancholic.
"Sweet Alistair Purdom. I didn't, sadly. Never planned to." he mocked.
The other man sobbed, about to be defamed and lose everything, Tim understood him.
"You should've killed me, Falkov!" Alistair shouted, now standing up from his chair. His knees were trembling and shaky, he didn't stand a chance against Timothy. When he tried to lunge at Tim, the old man fell and cried in pain.
"My Gwyneth..."
All he did was roll his eyes. What was worth crying over his cheating wife's daughter?
Despite it all, her cousin's son, Keiran did help him out. Even if the guy didn't know what he was doing.
"Sir, please open the door! We have a warrant!"
Tim smiled, but faltered when he saw Alistair pointing a gun at him. It was impossible, he had scanned the whole room and Alistair to detect any presence of a gun.
"Sir, open the door before we break it down! We have a warrant!"
Unless. Unless it was a dummy. Of course it was.
Tim backed off, slowly stepping backwards.
"See you in hell, Timothy."
Alas, he didn't know the loud sound came from the gun or from the police breaking down the door.
But when he was gasping for air, he knew Alistair Purdom just shot him.
YOU ARE READING
Here In Rosefalls | √
Ficção Adolescente*** Proceed with caution! It's a cringe story I wrote years ago but it's also my first completed story so it has an iron grip on me despite being all over the place and cringey. Nothing is accurate since I made everything up and it's totally fiction...
