8 Damsel In Distress

Victor's new bike was a Ducati Scrambler Nightshift, a modified model with a retro masculine appeal. It was perfect for fast conveyance and was relatively inconspicuous as a vehicle. The last thing Victor needed was attention.

Clive Baron had complained that the price of fifteen thousand dollars was too low but eventually had to give in.

Victor sent Clive back to the office and took the new bike for a drive around the city. Amidst the chaos of his grandfather's issues and trying to keep his cover secret, he had been bogged down by pettiness and mediocrity. People not worthy of being his servants had looked down on him and humiliated him.

'Everyone will get their due,' he thought. But at the moment, he had other concerns. Haley B was arriving in Springfield. She was beautiful like an angel but stubborn like a mule. If he did not appear at her concert, she'd fulfill her threat and expose him. The celebrity Haley B did not accept no for an answer.

Victor had reached the city's outskirts and smelled fresh air wafting down the river. East Springfield wasn't as crowded as the rest of the city.

Victor refilled the fuel tank and paused long enough to spot a black armored vehicle parked beside a food joint. It was a Karlmann King, painted black, with dark-tinted windows. Such vehicles were as heavy as six tonnes and were usually employed by private security agencies to transport their clients.

Ordinarily, Victor, the son-in-law, would ignore such a sighting. However, his instincts were set loose now that he was back in action. And at that moment, his instincts told him something was off.

Victor slowed down as he passed the vehicle, and his sharp eyes quickly scanned it. The Karlman King had no labels or logos of private security agencies, and the plate numbers were from outside the city. But what attracted Victor's attention the most was a sticker on the back of the van. It portrayed a white skull with wings.

While the symbol would be random for an ordinary person, Victor recognized it immediately. There was only one organization in the world with such a sigil.

'Monolith,' he told himself. Monolith was one of the most dangerous mafia groups in the world, involved in organized crime, drugs, terrorism, assassinations, and whatnot. They were employed by spy agencies, large conglomerates, and local mafias to carry out dirty work. Victor was surprised and curious about what they were doing in Springfield city.

He made a U-turn and returned, parking his bike a few feet from the Karlman King vehicle. He walked over to the car and knocked on the window.

Someone rolled down the window. "What?" an annoyed man w asked with a thick foreign accent.

Victor offered him a weak smile. "Nice car."

"Whatever! Get lost!"

"Well… I can hear a woman's gagged voice from inside your car. Care to explain?"

The man narrowed his eyes. The armored Karlman King muted the lowest decibel of noise. Moreover, the person they kidnapped was muzzled. How did this man pick up on something that wasn't audible to human ears?

"Are you crazy?" he replied stubbornly. "There is no woman. Get lost!"

Victor sighed. "I insist. Open the hatchback and let me see."

The man scowled and got out of the car. Victor was six feet three, taller than the stranger, but the latter looked like a heavy-weight lifter with bulging muscles.

"Young man," the hulk warned. "If you want to live, you better scram right now!"

Victor ignored the threat and asked, "Tell me, meathead. What is Monolith doing in Springfield city? What is your endgame?"

The hulk was taken aback. "How did you know we are Monolith?"

Victor shrugged as if the discovery was a casual incident.

"Never mind," the hulk said to him. "This makes things easy for me. Now it's clear I must kill you since you are a potential witness."

"Really? You'd commit violence out in the open?"

The man scoffed. "Look around, young man. You chose a lonely place to approach us. Bad luck for you but good luck for us. It will be easy to dispose of your dead body."

Another man appeared from behind with food packets. He was well-built and had bushy eyebrows. Apparently, they had parked under the shade near the food joint to get lunch.

On sensing the escalated situation, bushy-brows dropped his food and readied himself. Both men looked like trained fighters. They were going to attack him!

The hulk lunged at him first with a kick. Before his attack could land, Victor took a blazing step forward. He threw such a heavy punch into his guts that the man keeled over, vomiting blood.

The driver, who had been witnessing the escalation from the wheel, gasped. Who was this stranger?

Victor casually walked towards the car's trunk and slipped his fingers under the hatchback handle.

"Are you an idiot?" bushy-brows said. "Do you think we'll keep the hatchback open? It is locked and protected with military-grade armor. Even a missile cannot break through!"

With a grunt and a heave, Victor pulled. With a creak and a crack, the entire hatchback was ripped open.

Both bushy-brows and the driver were shocked to the core. A young man in his twenties just tore apart a military-grade locker! Was he the strongest man alive?

Inside the trunk, Victor found a classy young woman. Her hands and legs were tied, and her mouth was gagged. Still, she was making a surprising amount of noise. He immediately recognized who she was. The face was prominent in newspapers and social media.

"I'll get back to you in a moment," Victor reassured the woman, who protested even more.

"Is she Claire Holt?" he asked bushy-brows. The driver had also joined his accomplice. They had their guns drawn at him.

"Why is Monolith abducting the most successful female billionaire of Springfield?" Victor asked, ignoring their weapons.

Bush-brows and the driver exchanged nervous glances, and their trigger fingers twitched. In a split second, Victor was upon them. He unarmed the two with low uppercuts to their elbows. Strategically placed chops to their necks made them buckle their knees. They collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Victor found their weapons and unassembled them with swift motions of his hands. He returned to the vehicle's trunk and snipped Claire's bonds with a knife. Then, he pivoted and headed towards his bike.

"Hey!" The woman called back at him as soon as she ungagged herself. "Where are you going? Are you going to leave me here?"

Victor half turned around. "I just rescued you from murderous villains. What else do you need from me?"

"But how do you expect me to get home? Take me, please!"

Victor shook his head. "I'm sure you know how to call a cab. I don't have time to be your driver."

Claire wouldn't let go. She was a tall, classy woman, usually dressed in business suits. However, right now, she was in a thin silvery gown. Claire's well-toned, curvy body was on display.

"What if the goons have a backup?" she said. "They'll follow and kidnap me all over again! Please take me home on your bike. "

"What do I have to gain?" Victor asked coldly.

Claire was taken aback by his indifference. He already knew her name. Wouldn't a commoner like him be glad to be of service to a popular figure like her? Men usually bent over backward to serve her.

"I'll give you a million dollars!"

Victor stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Are you serious?"

"Yes! I'll give it in cash!"

He considered her offer for a moment. If he could get a receipt from Claire Holt, he could easily explain how he paid for Edgar's treatment to Carol.

"Two million dollars," Victor told her. "No negotiation. I'll also need a receipt with the name Victor Damone on it."

Claire bit her lip. Victor Damone? She had never heard the name before.

Two million dollars was not a considerable sum of money for her. But wasn't this daylight extortion? However, part of her wanted to know this mysterious stranger who came rushing in like Prince Charming and rescued her from goons.

"Deal!" she said.

***

Victor recovered Claire's personal effects from the armored vehicle and gave her his jacket to cover her body. The sun was setting, and cold had started to creep in. Claire sat on the rear seat and wrapped an arm around Victor's waist.

As they drove into the bustling city, she leaned on his back and closed her eyes.

'What is Victor's deal?' she wondered. Even though he knew how popular she was, he acted coldly toward her as if her beauty and celebrity status meant nothing to him.

Her arm tightened around his muscular torso as the bike sped up. She just realized she had never felt so safe and secure in a man's presence before. Who was this mysterious man? And why was he inducing repressed feelings in her?

***

On their way back, Claire sent a message to her subordinate about the two million dollar payment. An idea occurred to her. She clung to Victor and snapped a selfie.

Claire posted the picture on social media with the caption, "Life is wonderful when you are a nobody with somebody…"

Since she was a renowned personality, the post got a thousand instant likes in minutes and hundreds of comments.

Many wealthy men who wanted to court her posted jealous comments. Her female friends asked who the rider was.

"Who is the mysterious guy?"

"Tell us his name! We can only see his back!"

"I can't believe that Claire has a boyfriend!"

"Whose jacket are you wearing, Claire?"

Claire didn't respond to any of the questions. She intended to keep Victor a secret and explore him all by herself.