My Arrogant Business Partner Bet Me $100 I Couldn't Hit a Target — Until My Old ID Card and Scar Exposed Who I Really Was to My Estranged Son
The next morning unfolded like any other at Croft & Holloway, but with a barely perceptible shift in the atmosphere. The scent of wood polish and gun oil still filled the air. Apprentices went about their tasks. Julian was in his office, his usual boisterous self.
Then, at precisely 10:17 AM, two sleek, non-descript black sedans glided to a stop outside the showroom. They parked cleanly, without fanfare, their tinted windows reflecting the morning sun. Two men emerged, both dressed in dark, impeccably tailored suits. They were neither hurried nor slow, their movements precise.
They entered the showroom, their presence instantly noticeable despite their quiet demeanor. No one spoke loudly, but a subtle hush fell over the apprentices. The men scanned the room with practiced eyes, then moved directly towards Julian’s office.
Julian, mid-sentence on a phone call, looked up. His eyes widened slightly, a flash of recognition, then fear. He quickly ended his call.
The two men stepped into his office. One reached back, calmly pulling the blinds down over the glass partition, cutting off the view from the showroom floor. The click of the blinds was the loudest sound.
For the next twenty minutes, the showroom remained eerily quiet. No raised voices. No sounds of struggle. Only a profound, heavy silence emanated from Julian’s office. The apprentices exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared approach. Marcus, working at his bench, felt a prickle of unease, a familiar instinct from his past telling him that something significant, and dangerous, was unfolding.
Finally, the blinds rose. The two men reappeared, their faces expressionless. They gave Julian a brief, almost imperceptible nod. Julian, who now stood behind his desk, looked as if he had just seen a ghost. His face was completely drained of color, a sickly grey hue replacing his usual ruddy complexion. His hands, usually so confident, were gripping the edge of his desk, visibly shaking.
The men walked out of the office, through the showroom, and back to their waiting sedans. They got in and drove away as silently as they had arrived.
The showroom slowly returned to its normal hum of activity, but the memory of the unspoken visit lingered. Julian remained in his office, the door half-closed, for the rest of the day. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a profound, trembling silence. Whatever had been said, whatever had transpired behind those closed blinds, had utterly broken him.
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