The Red Bead

By Lourde All Rights Reserved ©

Romance / Scifi


Grande Winter isn't your typical thief who steals purses and leaves crying 'Help! Help!' No, he is not. He is the one who approaches you and asks you nicely to open your bag and give him what's inside. Life has granted him with a hypnotizer which he uses to compel you so that you end up doing as he asks. But what happens when this bead accidentally gets out of his mouth into that of one of his victims, Dian Pages?

Chapter 1

Grande Winter was fiddling with the ovoid, the size of a button, rubicund bead. His other hand was warming in the pocket. He was standing at the window on the fifth floor of Brothers and Sons Associates in Mr. Meyer’s, one of the company’s director’s offices wondering where in hell the damn man was. The fella had proved very difficult to reach, the reason Grande had finally decided to go here. For the past fifteen minutes or so, he’d spent scrutinizing the dreary office twice, sat on the man’s large chair and got tired of it. So he moved to the window.

Mr. Winter drew in an impatient breath, a sudden thought of leaving, cracking into his head. He detested the fact that he was standing here right now as much as he did being kept waiting. Although he hadn’t booked an appointment. He needn’t to since that day he laid his hands on the magic treasure in his mouth.

Where the heck could he be? Grande growled to himself, taking hasty steps back to the receptionist as though he hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. He’d hypnotized her not remember his face or presence in the company before asking her to let him into her boss’s office which was obviously banned from strangers in his absence. She was also required to destroy all the footage since when Grande had walked into that building, including the one capturing outside as well. It was quite fascinating the wonders this small bead could do.

“I thought you said your boss was going to be here in the next couple of minutes?” He asked irascibly, rolling the bead with his tongue. His right brow had tired long ago of the crouched angle it had been for the last ten minutes. He even added a clench of teeth to it in case she missed how pissed he was.

“He’s on his way sir. This is his usual time to arrive.” the short, girl-woman secretary gave hope, wishing there was more she could do.

“How much longer?”

“Not very long, I promise. I just called his house like you asked me to and they confirmed that he has already left.”

He lingered there for a while and when he realized that he had nothing else to say or do, he returned back to the office and to the same position where he’d stood initially.

Except for the stand tall buildings, which ascertained to have so many prospects, there wasn’t much to interest him. The street was busy with hurrying crowds all dressed in either white or black, making them look like a zebras from where he stood.

Obviously the term ‘avoid congestions’ was a fool’s hunt in this city since a simple thing as scratching your ear came with a real contention. And where had all the bright colors gone? Green-eyed wondered, running his curious eyes in an attempt to spot one of those leggy models who would blow his gall off during these few seconds or minutes before his victim arrived. Unfortunately, all the women he saw looked like men. You couldn’t even tell them apart except for those with apparent long hairs.

Grande snarled loudly, focusing his attention somewhere else. If only his enchanted bead could locate people. Right now he would have been a very contented man.

A look at his fifteen carats watch stated it was now 1030 hours. In other terms, fifteen more minutes had gone since he came back from the reception. It was starting to feel like a decade. Seriously, had the person he was waiting for suddenly changed plans? The man was a full hour and thirty minutes passed his usual arrival time with no explanations to his secretary. Perhaps he wasn’t obliged to but at least he could have given brief heads up considering what an important person he was.

A black automotive which came to a sudden halt, across the road interrupted Grande’s thoughts. He blinked, as though it was one of those leggy models he had been searching for. If there was one thing this guy was obsessed over, were sweet rides; and he was gawking at one. And these were definitely not those days when he window-shopped then went and sketched on paper what he’d seen. No, sir. Those days were long replaced by ‘I want that car, I’m getting that car.’ That’s why he had twelve of them standing outside his house. He’d even given them names in accordance to the love he felt for each one including his several toys which entertained him as it was there job. Cars to him were like social media to girls and that’s why he was having a hard time digesting the fact that the one standing before him right now wasn’t his. It was even a disgrace that he didn’t even know what make it was. The owner must have requested for personalization, Grande concluded, swallowing a huge lump.

Whoever drove that undeniably had to be his next target, he smirked, satisfaction of the fact that he hadn’t wasted his time after all standing here filled his heart. Speaking of color, a brunette in a painted short skirt which she complemented with a loose peach top stepped out of the sleek. It had to be a woman driving his new desire. How peculiar, considering it had all male features on it. Or that’s what he wanted to believe.

Perhaps she didn’t have the sexiest legs he’d ever seen but she flaunted them anyway, attracting all attention even from the insects, as she walked. Her flawless locks; smooth and wavy did not resist the morning wind as it blew freely off her shoulders. She soon disappeared into the building; D Collections, as it was indicated above the entrance in italics and purple.

Before he could look further into the building, his eyes were quickly drawn to Mr. Meyer’s car when it stopped down below at the entrance of the building Grande was standing in. At last. Mr. Meyer, a middle-aged, plump, with his squat body and tiny arms climbed from the back seat and hastened into the building while he spoke into his phone. His two guards followed behind him as was their duty. They must have accompanied him even to the washroom and probably washed him.

Grande trolled the bead with his tongue at the same time walking outside the office to the elevator. Then he stopped; both his hands sunken in his pockets. He watched without blinking, as it drew to a stop and open.

As Mr. Meyer was about to step out, still talking on the phone, Grande took a step forward, walking in so that the two ‘accidentally’ knocked into each other. His plan was falling to place.

While in the process of the hullabaloo of collecting the phone which had dropped, Grande places his hand on the fat fingers of the other and looking at him straight in the eyes, “My name is John and we have previously met. I’m your long lost friend and you’re happy to see me. Dismiss your guards and cancel all your appointments for the day because you intend for us to spend the day together. So you will take me on a ride with you; just the two of us.”

Mr. Meyer felt his mind reel for a moment and within a second; he was already smiling to this stranger who they had never encountered before.

“Sir?” One of the guards arched, reaching out to his boss.

“Anthony?” My Meyer’s bushy gray brows filled his forehead as he stared at Grande with a glow. Then pulling him close; he embraced him tightly as though they knew each other from very long. Grande couldn’t be more impressed with how this was going. He absolutely loved how the man had fallen for the compulsion just as he was supposed to. So he acted along.

“I can’t believe it we’ve met again.”

“I can’t believe it either.” Grande repeated neutrally.

“Where have you been all this time? Did you finish college, already?” the man continued, surprising Grande by each word coming out of his mouth. “Matter of fact, I was about to go have my breakfast. You should join me. We have a lot to talk about,” they got back to the elevator, the fellow dismissing his guards for the day without any explanations as per the hypnotization.

Confused, the guards tried to absorb everything that was going on, since Mr. Meyer didn’t move without them. His prominence did not allow him to.

“Uhm sir…” the male-voiced secretary rose from behind the light oak wood desk, in an apparent troubled concern, “Mr. Klein is in the boardroom waiting for you. What should I_”

“Cancel all my meetings for the day.” Mr. Meyer waved his hand in casual dismissal leaving the girl’s eyes widened as she watched the elevator close.

They got into Mr. Meyer’s car, Grande taking the next seat to the driver’s then they took off. It was the first time, in a long time he was driving himself, which was certainly a very rare stand for the old man to pull since he often complained of eye issues. Unless perhaps he was trying something new or he needed to be alone. Those were the conclusions his personal driver made as he watched in awe, the car taking off.

Mr. Meyer continued laughing to his own jokes or statements. He was the only one laughing. Grande didn’t find anything comical.

“I totally love_” the middle aged started in a conversational tone. However his new friend didn’t let him finish.

“… If you would just shut up and keep driving_ because I doubt your oldness can allow you to multitask,” Grande had his eyes focused on his phone, looking for the car model short-skirt had walked out of, “I highly doubt I’m interested in the crap you’re about to say anyway.”

A moment of silence ensued.

The drive was fifteen miles long by the time Grande decided it was time they stopped. And Mr. Meyer immediately recognized the glass shielded, seven-story building which they were both staring at -The Private Account.

“Does this place look familiar?” Grande’s hand went over the man’s shoulder.

“Yes. I do my personal banking here.” Mr. Meyer answered as if he were talking to a nine year old. That was what the bead made someone do; answer questions imprudently.

“I know,” an evil gratified smile appeared on Grande’s face. He had done his homework well and was proud of himself, “and that’s why we are here.”

Grande vaulted down from the car and shut the door. His puppet followed swiftly.

“Where are we going?” the curious man blinked, his face set in lines of intense concentration.

“Not we,” Grande corrected, catching the man’s eyes which was key if the bead had to work. Then he trundled it with his tongue, “you my man, are going to share half of what you have in that personal account o’ yours with me. What did I say?”

“I’m going to share what I have in there with you.”

“Good boy. So here are all the details that you need. Note it down on your phone.” Grande instructed, holding his phone up where all the account details displayed.

“Yes.” Mr. Meyer copied all the information.

“Once you’re done, get your car on fire and take a two week vacation with a couple of young women in order to spice up your boring lifestyle. You will not follow up on this transaction because its charity to some country in Africa. We’ve never met before and you don’t know how I look like.”

Wild eyebrows agreed to everything he was told without question. Then he disappeared into the bank. Grande didn’t wait till he came back. He instead took a cab which started for the airport. As much as he wanted to, it was still too soon to pat himself on the back. At least not until the transaction was confirmed. So he waited.

A few minutes later, his message came; a notification of 2.6 billion money transfer into their account. Now he could afford a smirk for a job well done. He felt so proud of himself for yet another successful mission. Who would make that lot in less than two hours anyway?

There was not even a bit of him which felt sorry for the old man. There was not even a bit of him which felt sorry for any of his victims. It was the least those damned rich freaks deserved for being so mean with their monies. They would sure make a lot more anyway and cover their losses.

The cab came to a stop and Grande paid what he owed, asking the humble soul to keep change. Then he walked to the private world-class plane which had been waiting for him.

“And here comes the man of the hour. We almost went without you.” Spence spoke brashly from where he sat. He was sandwiched between a short haired vixen and another brown curly haired, placing his hands on whichever part of them he pleased. His lips too. They allowed it.

“I will never get to understand how you notice my presence.” Grande clenched his teeth with no interest in the topic. It was a gesture that occurred naturally when he saw this man. He sat on the other side and buckled up. The plane was starting to take off.

“We have special intellects.” the damn man replied with amusement on his face before osculating with miss curly.

“Hm.” Grande looked away feeling irritation sweltering down his throat. This was what the damn fucker did all day while Grande put his neck on the line.

But in case he went down, they all would. Grande had long decided of how he would give the information with valid, detailed evidence. And this made him smile. He could use a drink to revel his triumph and the same time, calm his nerves rather than just wasting his thoughts on this idiot.

“Hint; it lies between the way you walk and your scent.” Spence continued when his lips parted from the woman’s.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” the sarcasm in Grande’s voice could win contests. Why in the damn hell was the conversation still going on?

Spence broke into a loud and an intense cackle, distracting the clouds from what they were doing. Apparently, Grande’s awful mood somewhat made his day. He had fun getting into his skin and right now he seemed to be headed there without much struggle. Grande eyed the man sharply with the corner of his eye for a moment. Then he ordered himself Scotch. He wondered if the man was entirely blind. Just because his entire iris was grey, it didn’t prove he couldn’t see.

Spence Numen was one person in the whole universe that Grande knew was full of shit. The man could actually pose for the devil himself. It wasn’t just because of his too concentrated black hair, sharp gigantic nose and stark, rigid face that gave him away. It was also the cold, dark rot meat in his chest that he called heart. Grande could hardly keep a record of the number of people the imbicile had killed and not feel a damn thing.

“You made me very proud today.” The animal went on irritating Grande even more.

He contemplated the statement, a million retorts forming in his head but only an ‘Hm’ came out before cold barley with a blend of sweet went down his throat. It was a better answer than what he’d thought of doing; a punch in the damn fool’s mouth knocking out his bloody teeth or throwing him out of his face and entirely out of this plane and kill him once and for all. The thought found his lips quirking into a grin.

After emptying his glass, he got up and walked to somewhere he didn’t have to listen to these endless mind-numbing giggles. To think he was here feeling lonely, and his cars, which he referred to as babies were sitting at home waiting for him to pick the remote. How unfair could life be sometimes?

Dian poured herself a cup of the boiling hot coffee. Then she walked back to the living room where documents scattered carelessly on the couch beside her laptop. This is what the president of D Collections did when she wasn’t in her office; working at home. Her work was her fun and vice versa. It was what made her smile and undeniably the reason for her being.

Compared to where she wanted to get, there was still so much to achieve and this lady was up for the challenge. The industry required one to keep their clients with fresh and original on a daily basis otherwise they’d be jumping to your competitors within no time. That’s why it felt necessary to work this hard.

Right now she was trying to come up with a couple of dress designs, most of which she cancelled and wrinkled the papers. She still had about two hours tonight to finish up on the very least; five designs although sleep seemed to be knocking at the door with large bangs. Her bed time usually was eleven and today wasn’t going to be different. The coffee was supposed to work its magic.

Suddenly the noise at the kitchen window made her turn abruptly and before her curiosity grew further, she watched Muffin, her pet monkey motioning towards her and sit on the couch. Her little eager face seemed to have explored a lot that day.

“Muffin!” her voice was a high pitch possibly because she’d been dozing off. She even scared herself, “Where have you been hiding your sweet cute self?” the one way conversation continued as the two started for the refrigerator.

Sometimes it entirely slipped her mind of Muffin’s existence something which she felt very awful about and tried making it up by giving the small animal all the freedom she desired in the house. They’d met in a very peculiar way when Dian had started living here. And even though it had not been a well start-up relationship, after finding some of her foodstuffs missing; they started getting along on the way.

Muffin must have been lost from her home and every time Dian expected that they might come looking for her. So she did not want getting attached too much to the animal. The beautiful creature who was always a good distraction appeared and disappeared when she wanted to. But she was always around the vicinity. Dian allowed her that freedom.

The advantage of the location of Dian’s house, which was on the outskirts of town, was that Muffin could walk around the woods and play on the trees nearby.

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