Twilight Zone - 3

*****This chapter contains sensitive descriptions that may be disturbing or uncomfortable for some readers. Please approach with caution and be mindful of your own emotional responses as you read.*******

Sky Tower - Conference Room

The negotiation had been dragging on for over two hours. Donovan Magnum sat at the long, rectangular table beside Logan. His patience was thinning as the discussion showed no signs of concluding anytime soon. Across the table, buyers from different countries haggled over the price and protection of weapons. Deals like this could stretch on for five hours or more.

Donovan stole a glance at his watch—10:30 PM.

Time was slipping through his fingers. He had promised to meet Li, but this discussion wasn't something he could walk away from. Not when the stakes involved life and death.

A man sitting across from him, Kwaku Nkrumah, leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together, his dark eyes heavy with desperation. He spoke with urgency, his thick African accent carrying the weight of the horror his people faced.

"Mr. Magnum, as you know, the situation in Yougain is beyond control. The number of people joining the Freedom Group is increasing at an alarming rate. These are not mere rebels—they are savages. They attack villages already crippled by war, take the people hostage, and each day, they kill one human and—" he hesitated, his voice breaking before he forced himself to continue. "They cook and eat them in front of their families."

The room fell silent. Even those who had spent years in warfare and arms trading stiffened at his words.

Logan was the first to break the silence. His sharp grey-blue eyes eyes locked onto Kwaku. "Have you approached your government?"

Kwaku exhaled heavily with frustration in the way his hands tightened into fists. "I have done everything I could. But my people are afraid. The Freedom's Group is growing too strong—they have advanced weapons. Our local law enforcement stands no chance against them. When I went to speak with them, they used bureaucracy as an excuse, claiming to be in talks with the central government, but we all know the truth. They are too afraid to go against freedom." His voice cracked with anger at the helplessness he felt. "They do nothing while these monsters spread like a disease."

Donovan exchanged a look with Logan.

The air in the room was heavy. Donovan looked at his watch again—10:35 PM. At this rate, he was going to be late.

Li was waiting for him. But so were the people in Yougain, trapped in a nightmare, desperate for a lifeline. But that was not his responsibility. They deal in arms and wield influence over criminal organizations. They attempt to maintain a balance, ensuring that one mafia doesn't conflict with another. They monitor closely to prevent any clashes among them in Europe. Upholding the peace between the authorities and the organized crime groups. However, what Kwaku was requesting went far beyond their capabilities. It's not just about safeguarding one family, but it's about protecting an entire state in Africa, where all the major countries are watching particularly the government.

He leaned forward, fingers pressing together as he regarded Kwaku with a measured stare. "If we get directly involved, your government will use our presence as leverage. They will turn it into a political game, blackmailing us for getting involved and asking for more weapons and more money—free of cost, of course. That's why we invited you here instead. To offer you the arms you need to protect your people. You and your people must fight back."

Kwaku's nostrils flared as he struggled to keep his composure. His fists hit the table. "They show no mercy. They take what they want. They don't just kill—they torment. They make the families watch as they slaughter their loved ones and force them to witness the most inhumane acts imaginable. Some people lose their minds and join them, believing that consuming flesh makes them invincible. Others..." His jaw clenched. "Others live in such terror that they don't even dare to speak out. How do I rally people who are already broken?" His gaze swept over the room, landing back on Donovan. "Please... we need your help."

Before Donovan could respond, Miranda Salvathore, a woman sitting further down the table, let out an exaggerated sigh. Her perfectly manicured nails drummed against the table.

"We are here to discuss pricing, not listen to sob stories," she said coolly. Her expression was unimpressed, bored even. "Take this discussion somewhere else. Some of us have more important matters to attend to."

Her lack of concern was like ice against the fire in the room.

Donovan could have given this woman a nice lesson, but he did not have time for it. He was going to be late to meet Li.

Donovan could have put Miranda Slate in her place, but he didn't have time for unnecessary arguments. He needs to be in Twilight Zone.

He turned to the woman in the black dress seated at the far end of the table, already anticipating what he needed.

She understood instantly. Rising gracefully from her seat, she addressed the tense room. "Ladies and gentlemen, let us serve you the finest cold sparkling wine to lighten up this rather frigid atmosphere."

As murmurs of agreement spread through the table, Donovan stood up. Logan shot him a confused glance but said nothing as Donovan strode out of the conference room.

The moment he stepped into the hallway, he pulled out his phone and called Peter, the manager of Twilight Zone.

The call rang once. No answer. His jaw ticked in irritation. He then dialled the club's main line. This time, a woman answered, her voice smooth and professional.

"Twilight Zone. My name is Juli. How may I assist you?"

"Donovan Magnum, here."

There was a pause before her tone instantly shifted to one of crisp attentiveness. "Good evening, Mr. Magnum."

"I'll be late. Make sure my guest is taken care of."

"Aaaa.....She has already arrived and is waiting for you. But don't worry, Mr. Magnum. We will do our best to keep her entertained."

"Arrived!" Donovan felt a swell of frustration as the meeting dragged on. He never felt frustrated for being in a meeting like today. As a weapons manufacturer, he couldn't leave Logan to manage things alone. He trusted Logan to handle it, but this was his territory, and his family would never stop pestering him for leaving the meeting unfinished. When Logan meets with politicians and decides whom to ally with, he and Kai have no say in the matter. That's Logan's area of expertise; politics runs in his blood as a member of the Wolfsgang.

"Send her roses on my behalf for being late," he instructed, his tone reflecting quiet authority. "And ask the manager to give my number to Li and have her message me."

"Of course, Mr. Magnum. We will handle everything. Thank you for calling."

He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

A part of him regretted not exchanging numbers with Li earlier. She had asked him twice, and he had ignored it. This morning, he wanted to ask for her number—but she had thrown him off with that damn kiss threat before running off like she always did.

His lips twitched at the memory. She always ran.

He would get through this meeting as fast as possible. Donovan stepped back into the conference room, his expression unreadable. Around the long rectangular table, glasses of expensive aged wine were being served. But Donovan didn't touch his glass. His mind was already somewhere else. At Twilight Zone. Where she was waiting for him.

In Twilight Zone

Roland took a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, letting the bitter smoke coil inside his lungs before exhaling through his nose. His gaze was sharp and calculative, although he was reeking of alcohol, fixed on Peter, the manager standing before him.

With one smooth motion, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his polished shoe.

"Is everything ready?" Roland's voice was casual, but the undertone of dominance made it clear he expected nothing less than perfection.

Peter straightened his tie, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yes, Mr. Lamborni. The Pole dancer arrived at 10:30 sharp and is waiting for you all." He paused, his smirk deepening. "Though I must admit, your choice is quite different this time."

Roland's brows twitched at that comment. A barely noticeable crease formed between his brows as he exchanged glances with his closest friends.

Michael, standing beside him, scoffed, "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Peter's smirk remained. "I only meant she's... not what you usually anyone go for a bachelorette party." She looked inexperienced being in such parties. Peter thought about it when he noticed her hesitance when entering the room.

A ripple of questions passed through the group. They had paid for the highest-priced pole dancer, who was an escort, as well as a stripper, Sandra Kastiel. The woman was infamous—a legend among the notorious elite. Her bold moves, her lack of shame, and the way she made men crawl at her feet had solidified her reputation.

"She must have changed her look," Michael mused, slinging an arm around Roland in a show of amusement. His lips curled into a grin. "Looks like Sandra has a surprise for you."

The rest of the men chuckled darkly, already drunk off expensive liquor and the promise of a wild night.

Peter led the group to the third floor, and when they arrived, he gestured toward the black door before opening it, revealing Liora, who was dressed in a black frilled skirt and a full-sleeve shirt as she focused on the metal frame. She turned her head when the door opened, her eyes searching for Nova, and she felt a flutter in her heart as she waited for Nova to step in when the door creaked open, only to find a group of unfamiliar men standing there.