Just as she opened her mouth to speak, loud thuds were heard approaching the basement again and faint moans akin to sounds of struggling could be heard. The burly man finally walked down the stairs, coming into Emerald’s and Jordan’s view, and the two could see a struggling Armani being pulled along with him.
“Armi!” Emerald called out and just then, Armani’s struggles came to a halt as she took in the people in the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of two familiar persons and she took a step forward towards them only to be pulled back harshly by the man still holding her.
“Hmm!” She called out in response but her words were muffled by the handkerchief covering her mouth.
“Armi, are you okay?” Emerald asked worriedly, her eyes scrutinizing every visible bit of her sister’s figure. She appeared to be in good condition, other than the stains on her clothes, her dishevelled frame and the bruise forming around her cheek and busted lip.
“You’re hurt,” Emerald muttered, her glistening eyes roving over her sister’s frame. She noticed Armani shaking her head as muffled noises escaped her again. Offering her a small smile, Emerald shifted her gaze to Carl, her eyes hardening as steel as she did.
“What did you do to her?” she let out through gritted teeth, green orbs glaring her father down when a smirk stretched across his lips.
“Oh, her?” he snickered, roughly pulling Armani to him and keeping his arm around her shoulder, gluing her to his side as she thrashed with disapproval. “We just took extra precaution in case she attempted to escape when we ‘borrowed’ her.” He made an air quotes gesture, still smirking sadistically.
Emerald’s eyes drifted from him to Armani, laced with worry at how uncomfortable she looked while struggling in Carl’s grasp, before moving back to him, turning twice as hard. “Let go of her, Carl!” she took a step forward instinctively and Jordan had to tighten his hold on her waist to draw her very reluctant form back to him.
Carl shook his head slowly, tutting in mockery as he regarded his daughter. “Do you think you can just order me around now because I decided to have a little chat with you?” His smirk faded leisurely, replaced by a fierce look in his eyes.
He was serious now.
“You are in my territory, now. You will abide by my law. You will do as I say when I say it or else. . .” To buttress his threat, his arm around Armani’s shoulders tightened even more until she let out a suppressed sound of pain.
Carl loosened his grip, content with the frantic look of worry clouding his daughter’s eyes as she stared at her sister. “I know you’re smart, dear daughter. You know what that means; I call the shots here.”
Silence soon ensued and a giddy excitement could be clearly seen in Carl’s twinkling orbs as he smiled, enjoying Emerald’s helpless look, but all too soon, his excitement was brought to a complete turnaround when Jordan spoke.
“Really? You call the shots?” his voice thundered around the room, his tone heavy with mockery. Confused and, once again, aggravated, Carl met his gaze, shivers running down his aged spine at the sight of the devilish grin on Jordan’s face.
Carl opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a word, three out of five guns were immediately pointed at him by his fellow gang members. He slowly and cautiously averted his gaze from Jordan, running his eyes along the people that had their guns directed at him – all of his colleagues except the overly tall and tatted guy and ‘Naconda, the burly man that had brought Armani to the basement and was currently standing beside him.
Carl blinked, the shock evident on his slightly pale face as his eyes met with those of the people he had considered friends, people who were now currently fighting against him.
“Look how the tables have turned, Johansson.” Jordan called out, drawing the pale and sweaty older man’s attention to his smug face. “I did tell you earlier that your arrogance would be your downfall, didn’t I? You should never underestimate me, you should never underestimate my Gem and you should never underestimate a man who would do anything just to keep his family safe.
You should have been very meticulous about your research, Carl, perhaps then you would have discovered a very important detail.” His smug expression slipped off and was quickly replaced by a gaze so frigid, it sent a chill up and down Carl’s spine repeatedly.
“The people you chose to mess with, are my family now and no one messes with J. K’s beloved and gets away with it,” he spat, his voice edged with ardent contempt as his eyes narrowed just before he yelled an order. “Now!”
Immediately, the barely surviving entrance door behind them was flung off its hinges as several black suited men came rushing into the room, the last of them being the familiar blue eyed, black man – Owen Skull. Owen walked up to Emerald’s other side, he and Jordan exchanging a nod while Emerald passed him a grateful smile, one he gave a slight bow to.
Everyone – Jordan’s men and the other gang members – then turned their attention to Carl, ‘Naconda and the tall, tatted guy. Carl’s eyes remained wide and fearful when he saw how hopelessly outnumbered they were. His gaze was then trained on his three other colleagues, seemingly pleading with them.
Jordan spoke up, noticing that. “These three aren’t as stupid as you and the other two, Johansson. All I had to do was let them know who they were up against and snap!” he snapped his two fingers sharply, eliciting a jolt from Carl. “They turned against you so easily,” he grinned, but immediately after, his expression turned stone cold again.
“Enough chitchat. I’m done playing here.” Jordan gave a slight nod and as Owen raised his gun in the air to shoot, in one quick movement – one inspired by a rush of adrenaline due to the fear of losing his life – Carl whipped out his gun and held it against Armani’s temple, bringing everyone to a halt.
“Armi!” Emerald yelled out in panic as her sister’s wide and fearful eyes stayed glued to hers. “Don’t you dare hurt her!” She shouted again, her hands clenched into fists beside her.
“Make even the slightest movement and I won’t hesitate to bury a bullet in her brain,” Carl threatened, pressing the muzzle of the gun harder against her temple, eliciting a faint cry from Armani.
“Armi,” Emerald whispered, never averting her eyes from her sister’s. Jordan’s eyes narrowed, a deadly aura emanating from him as he stared unblinkingly at Carl, not failing to notice how the older man’s hand trembled around the gun in palpable terror.
Silence stretched as long moments passed with everyone remaining immobile, waiting for a word or signal from Jordan when he spoke all of a sudden, his sonorous voice booming with command, momentarily jolting Carl.
“Lower your weapons,” he had commanded, surprising Carl, but Jordan’s men, who were well aware of their boss’s esoteric tactics, could only smirk in mockery of Emerald’s father’s smug, victorious look.
As they all crouched down to set their guns on the ground, some of the men glanced at Owen who discreetly raised two of his fingers as they bent lower to the ground, and as soon as their guns were about to touch the floor, he snapped both fingers down, forming a fist – a signal so familiar to them – and quickly, they moved into action.
The men quickly swung their guns up in the air, their synchronous act a fatal distraction to the enemy, and before Carl could register anything, a dagger was already embedded in his right side, right below his chest while he held Armani to his left side.
He staggered from the impact, a sharp pain shooting through his chest and entire torso. Hissing in agony, he lifted his eyes from the view of the hilt sticking out of his body and met Jordan’s gaze.
The man was crouching slightly, still in the position from which he had launched the dagger and his dark eyes were trained on Carl, a bloodcurdling smirk exposing some of his pearly whites. At that moment, all Carl Johansson could comprehend was that he was staring right into the eyes of the devil himself.
Overwhelmed by the terror–inspired, spine–chilling tremors raking through him, Carl’s tight grip on Armani finally loosened and when she made a sudden lunge forward, seizing the opportunity to escape his hold completely, Jordan saw an opening and immediately drew another dagger, preparing to throw it and finally end it all at once, but just as he flung the weapon, Carl grabbed hold of Armani’s hair and pulled her back to him.
“Armani!” Emerald screamed at the top of her voice, feeling her heart stop in her chest when she noticed the dagger heading towards her sister, but before it could make contact, Carl quickly pulled a spectating ‘Naconda to act as a shield.
Not expecting the sudden movement, the burly man stumbled forward quite easily and before he could make sense of anything, the weapon had already sunk itself into the space between his wide eyes, bringing an instant death to the victim.
Emerald’s rigid body finally slackened in relief when she saw that although Armani was still in her father’s hold, she was still alive, however, that relief was shortlived when Carl began dragging Armani towards the stairs, his movements frantic as he and the tall, tatted guy began shooting maddeningly at Jordan’s men, hoping to cover and make their escape, but unfortunately for the tatted guy, he was only able to cover for Carl before he was gunned down after managing to hit two of his fellow gang members.
“Cal, I’m going after Armi!” Emerald yelled out, freeing herself from in-between the two men flanking her; she was tired of staying still and doing nothing to help.
“No, Gem! Wait-” Jordan tried to stop her but Emerald had already raced towards the broken wooden stairs, ducking her head as she made her way up. “Mera!” Jordan shouted after her, preparing to follow, but he had taken no more than three steps when he suddenly felt someone collide with him, succeeding in bringing him down to the ground as the sound of gunshots tore through the air at that moment.
Groaning gruffly, Jordan sat up on the floor, looking to his side to see who had shoved him; it was Owen.
“Boss, are you alright?” He asked, his piercing blue eyes scanning Jordan’s frame and disregarding the cut on the side of his own cheek that gave way to trails of blood leaking down his face.
Jordan hummed in response. “I am fine,” his eyes sharpened. “Who pulled the trigger?”
“I did.”