His prey, his ride or die

Billy Chad Trevor was deep asleep. His phone rang dismissively from the drawer beside his huge and massive white bed. His room dazzled. White was everything. So white, that one would wonder if heaven could be whiter than his room. The pillows, the bedsheets, the curtains, the blankets, the rugs, the ornamented and polished carpets, his clothes and shoes were all white except for one thing, his soul.

Everything he did have but for his soul, even his creator could never claim such a soul. So the devil claimed it. This very Mafia Lord was not afraid of one thing everyone seemed to be afraid of, that thing was death. Because he had died a thousand times to resurrect dangerously and become more ruthless. He was feared by home and abroad. Little wonder his things were all white. Perhaps, he hid himself in the shadow of light which he didn't deserve. His room, his home, his place, his everything was somewhere beneath the earth. It was underground, deep below the ground, that if truly hell was down, he would be going in and out of hell. He had claimed to have met the Prince of the world. He had claimed, he was given the key to rule the entire universe by the devil. He claimed to be the devil in his time.

Certainly he didn't fear devil, he feared only one thing which he had never expected and that was women, no not women. Certainly not women. Probably, love. He knew his only downfall was love. And ninety nine percent of his death were caused by love. But he didn't want to learn from that. This could prove the type of man Chad Billy Trevor was. How could one take an innocent life and still have a sound and peaceful sleep? Indeed Chad was something else. But who dared to blame him? Blame the one man who picked him up from the grave. The one man who took him in, who took care of him, who saved him from the clutches of death. The one man who gave him a name and raised him up like his very own. That very man was the late Mafia Lord, Andrew Trevor.

Andrew taught Chad everything he knew. He initiated Chad into the Mafia at an early age...

Chad didn't choose the Mafia, they chose him because of who he was, who he had and where he lived.

Chad awoke cautiously. He looked at his wrist watch, 3:02 A.M. He never played with time. Time waited for no one and he waited for no time. It was late. Who would be calling him at this time of the night? He picked his phone and answered the call. He raised it to his ear. " Hello? "

The caller said nothing.

" Hello. Who's this? "

" Don is that you? "

" And who are you? " he was being cautious. " Do you know what time it is? "

" It's me Caesar___"

" Are you crazy? Why did you call my direct line? "

" Sorry Don. I really need to see you. "

" For what? "

" It's something I can't discuss over the phone. "

" Let's meet at White House tomorrow morning, " Chad said, yawning. " I hope you have got my money. " He hung up without hearing from Caesar.

Thirty two years old Chad was the youngest, the most powerful and the most ruthless in the organization. He was a killer, a ruthless one. His watchword was no pain, no mercy and no weakness. He was a handsome tall guy with the accent and decency of a Mexican. He had a carefree smile of a collegiate athlete but that was only noticed rarely. He was muscular built and fine looking but he had the attitude of an uncivilized man. He was a smart man who could discern his enemies quickly but he was an epitome of foolishness when it came to love.

THE NEXT DAY...

Chad looked around as he parked his car. He came down from it and began to go.

He met some soldiers outside.

" Good day Don, " they retorted.

" Where's Caesar? Is he in? "

" Yes boss. "

He threw his car key to one of the soldiers and left.

He walked to the White House, after making sure no one saw him, he entered inside.

White House was the general name of the house they met in. It was white so they named it White House.

He met the underbosses gambling and playing cards. As for the capos they were smoking and drinking and gambling as well.

Caeser and the Consigliere by name Charlie Alberto walked to him. Charlie Alberto was known for settling disputes whenever it broke out between the Mafia families " Welcome Don. "

" It seems you didn't come in your car, " Charlie said askance.

" The FBI could be watching, " he said to Charlie. He turned to Caeser. " Where's my money? "

" The police have got your money. "

Chad stared at him. There was rage in his eyes. " You let them get to you, why? " He began to go.

Caesar followed from behind. Charlie walked beside Chad.

" Should I take out a bullet? "

" Mine still works. " This was how they conversed.

Their conversation had always been the stumbling block for the FBI agents. Their conversation could be understood by only them and no one else. No matter how many times the FBI got a recording of their conversation, it took them months, sometimes years to understand what they discussed about. Sometimes the ones who started to decipher their discussion weren't the ones who ended up deciphering it.

" Don, " Caesar called from behind.

Chad didn't respond.

" Don, " the underbosses and the capos called recognizing his presence.

Chad sat down. " Let's try this. I want my money refunded but in a way that can favour both you and I. How would you like that? "

" Sir I... I'm ready to give you anything in exchange for the money. I should have protected your money. I made a mistake... "

" You do not need to go into details. It's simple, I want something in return for my gone money. That money was precious to me. "

Caeser didn't think so. Five hundred thousand dollars was nothing compared to what he had. He was in control of a hunderd billion dollars and properties worth a billion dollars. Five hundred thousand dollars was now in the hands of the FBI organization. He should let the money go. " What do you want? "

" I want something precious to you as well. "