Crash-landed On An Island With Nine Beauties novel Chapter 118

"That fool! How could he be so dumb? So what if he has power? He thinks I would really feel responsible to him? Not even Solomon or Steven would be that dumb to entrust two gold statues... fucking red gold statues to a stranger. Waah... that guy is really a great fool. I haven't seen a fool so ---"

The man seemed to had had enough of his own talks. He walked closer to the two red gold statues and traced his finger through the limb of one of the statues which was about nine ft tall. Each.

"What a beauty!"

He chuckled.

"Where did this bastard get these from? Did he steal them?"

He walked to the other statue and cupped the balls of the statue in his rough hand.

"What huge balls. Big dick."

He cackled.

"I'm so dumb."

He turned his back to the statue and positioned his ass to the head of the statue's big cock.

"Yes, daddy... fuck me..."

He fell down on his face laughing so loudly and rolling on the floor. When he had had enough, he got up on his feet. All serious, with a dead stare. You would think there was someone else in the empty and dark space who had exhibited the prior folly.

"Why are these crazy jerks not here yet? Does Steven want to do business or not?"

He brought out his phone and dialed a number. The call had scarcely rang when there came the screeching of tyres and blaring of car horns coming from outside the abandoned Cathedral

"That must be him. That must be them."

He gulped. His heart thumping heavily in his chest. You would think that he was going to meet a ghost or probably have a talk with Bellona.

He fixed his jacket over and over again like he would go naked anytime from that moment. His head was going to knock, he was about to go nuts.

Then came approaching footsteps from the door of the building. He couldn't see clearly, there was a sort of fog stalking the door, holding out the light. But he knew it was a matter of time before he saw Steven.

The approaching footsteps sounded like a troupe of soldiers marching to battle.

"Fuck... haven't I chosen the wrong person?"

He was shaking. He would piss his pants. The manner at which he was gulping, you would think that he was holding a bottle of red wine.

Several henchmen ran towards him and made an arc. They were about fifty.

"Is this war?"

The man muttered again. Then, the henchmen paved the way for Steven.

Steven, unlike most Dons had a big build, burly and charismatic. He was so ruthless that he could blast a man's head off for staring at him for long. Majority of people who talk to him do that while staring at their own shoes.

Steven had a little moustache scattered about his upper lips, at the base of his button nose. He had a cigarette and was puffing.

Indifferent glare constantly enthroned in his face. One hand always in his pocket to grace or ruin the fashion.

He was dressed in Italian suits and shoes. He loved wearing and eating things that come from his hometown.

"What gives you the guts to bring me to this shithole of a place out of all meeting points? Do you have a death wish?"

The man dropped on his knees at once, cowering like a cornered animal.

"I must be very stupid, Steven. I must be stupid to had done that without thinking. Only that I had no choice but to use this place because of the worth of these merchandise."

Steven turned at once and began to walk away. The confused man called,

"Don... where are you ---"

Steven made a pause, turning gracefully.

"Why call me when you know you are stupid? You seem to know the degree of your stupidity because you almost made a hymn out of it. I don't make deals with stupid people."

"I was j-just joking... I didn't mean the word that w---"

"Did you say you were joking?"

Steven questioned and the man nodded in affirmation. Steven's scary eyes became even scarier as he stomped towards the man.