The sight on that ground was a reality canvas of individual glinting metals under the calm sun; jaws popped sharp and tightened alongside each of their grips on the gun, ready to pull the trigger and engage in a bloodbath anytime soon.
Fortunately and unfortunately, the whole parade had begun only just to end. Before the powerful positions could graduate into a sinister scene, the door of the last Escalade slowly flung open.
After what was obviously a deliberate waste of time, Miguel,who had been observing the whole performance all this while, finally stepped out of the car.
He carried that calm aura that could soothe a turbulent sea just as easily as it could orchestrate one, without stress.
"So much for… 'I can handle this,'" Miguel sneered with pure irritation between breaths as he slammed the door shut behind him, the heavy thud echoing against the silence of the standoff.
Ever since they left the spot where he met Mr. Rot-mouth, his anger and blame toward Storm had magnified into billions of chaos. Navarro had caught on to that radiating rage and stubbornly insisted that Miguel should stay behind and cool off in the car while he and the other guards did the job.
"Let me do this," he had insisted in a very serious tone, one Miguel knew he couldn't win in an argument.
"In a cleaner way. You would definitely mess things up if you go in there," Navarro added.
But with the whole childishness unfolding here now, the scene didn't look like anything would get done soon, certainly not in a cleaner way.
Miguel had naughty escapades to attend to and a rot-mouth to track down; he didn't have the luxury of time. As he came into view, the sun hit his face gently, highlighting his naturally defined contour lines and giving him an almost irresistible, dangerous volume.
The once agile, vigilant, and fearless head security guard quickly dropped his hands, his face immediately softening into dreadful realization, as all the guards behind him followed the motion in unanimous surrender, the steel of their weapons dipping toward the dirt.
"Just when I thought you had actually learned something," Miguel whispered as he brushed past Navarro. Navarro rolled his eyes but stepped aside, allowing Miguel to take over his position at the front of the line.
With just one knowing look over his shoulders, all of Miguel's men understood the unspoken word. They immediately lowered their weapons. Going on a full killing spree was Miguel's last resort; Storm was the main target, unless any of these underpaid guards felt like their time on earth was due.
"Apologies, Sire Miguel," the chief guard muttered, as polite and calm as ever betraying his initial unbothered defiance and bravado.
The man's head lowered in what seemed like fear and total respect all boxed up in one gesture. He might have tried to act tough with Navarro, but on seeing Miguel, and knowing the kind of man rumors and reality labeled him, all that resolve withered away like burnt paper.
Miguel didn't utter even an audible breath to the man. He offered only a deadly, implying silence that was able to break the man's spirit, proving to Navarro that raw violence wasn't the only solution to these incidents.
"Mr. Storm is inside," the man said to Miguel, respectfully paving the way.
'The power of what raw power can do', Miguel smirked inwardly as he made his way up the large concrete stairs. All eyes were pinned to the floor as he glided past, carrying his ego with agile stealth, as he ascended the stairs before finally being swallowed by the gigantic entrance door, which shut behind him with an ancient kind of groan.
With his absence, the air outside thickened again with rivalry. Each man picked up their shattered confidence to continue their silent battle, but now the atmosphere was pierced only by flying daggers and bullets of glares.
*******
Qlick-quuvk-quik!!!
Came the confident strides of Miguel's heels as he advanced farther into the house. As he made his way, something felt off. He felt strange; the scent here today was so familiar it tingled his skin.
For the first time since Storm's failed attempt was exposed, Miguel felt a pinch of guilt. He was growing a conscience all of a sudden, trying to put himself in Storm's shoes.
"No, Miguel, kill that feeling!,"his inner fury yelled, reminding Miguel how the man's actions couldn't be justified no matter the excuse.
'He's an ungrateful, greedy son of a loose hole! You can't tame a wild snake… they will always show you why they are wild'.
Finally, his inner demons won. His softening face tightened into a hard mask as he fastened his pace across the Hallway, past beautiful paintings hung high on the walls.
Before his hand could reach the predicted door, where he was certain Storm was probably eating grapes and whining, the door frantically flung open....
Storm almost bumped into Miguel before freezing completely on the spot, his breath hitching in his throat.
Bastard, Miguel cursed inwardly, disgust briefly etching onto his forehead as he watched the screaming fear radiate like solar rays off Storm.
The man staggered backward in deafening bewilderment, his skin paling as he fully realized it was Miguel standing there.
That retreat made space for Miguel. He walked in with a deliberate, haunting calmness, gliding past the trembling man. His eyes landed on the leather bag Storm held onto like his life depended solely on it. The sight alone made Miguel's heart twitch tighter with contempt.
Storm was clearly trying to escape before he arrived, which meant the news had reached him somehow. Finding out how he got the information would be a task for later; Storm was definitely and surely going to die soon, so the "how" was almost irrelevant.
Miguel moved past him so casually, so freely, that it effortlessly turned Storm into a mere guest in his own office.
After a brief standoff, savoring the panoramic coastal views through the window, Miguel finally settled into the executive seat with a haunting, thin smile.
The silence that clogged the room was so taut and toxic it could cause a purge. With a thorough size-up and eagle precision, Miguel studied Storm, who stayed hunched cautiously like a man folded by the suffocating weight of guilt and dread.
"Foolish man," Miguel laughed inwardly.
To be continued…