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Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Chapter 11: One More Month
“You take a lot from Manuel Ronaldo,” Hugo Bonnet said, his eyes studying Carlos cautiously, waiting f or a reaction.
While Carlos felt rage running throughout his entire body, he swallowed all his emotions down his throa t. He quickly formed a sneer as if revolted by being compared to his own father.. Carlos replied, “I am… nothing like my father.”
Carlos turned to his friend, Alexander. Then he shifted his attention back to Hugo. He said,” My father was selfish. More than that, he failed to manage his finances and left mother and me in a helpless situation.”
“I would appreciate it, Mister Bonnet, if you don‘t mention him before me,” Carlos requested. While his eyes were filled with fury, they were bitterness secretly meant for Hugo and not for his father, Manuel
Hugo‘s former mischievous grin turned into a wide beam. He declared, “Well, I think… we can get alon g just fine.”
“I hope so, Mister Bonnet. I am here for money and money only. I know making business with you is th e fastest way to go about it.” Carlos returned his attention back to Alexander and introduced his friend. “ This is Alexander Jenkins, my practice partner.”
Like Carlos, Alexander also greeted Mister Bonnet. He said, “It‘s a pleasure, Mister Bonnet.”
They were all settled in a private restaurant owned by the Bonnet gang. It had tight security, and there were cameras all over. Around them were three security personnel watching their surroundings.
“I came to see both of you for a very important matter,” Hugo spoke. “I understand how you have taken part in our match–
fixing games for a long time.” Hugo turned to his assistant, receiving hints in a whisper. “Five years, hu h? Good. Good.”
Hugo‘s eyes thinned. The lines on his face became apparent as he smiled from ear to ear. Hugo was a man in his late fifties, the said leader of the Bonnet gang, a syndicate that began ten years back. The Bonnet gang controlled not just the corruption in tennis but also other famou s sports such as soccer and football.
“Five years,” Hugo repeated. “And you have contributed nicely by bringing in other players too, like you r friend Alexander.”
“Mister Ronaldo is also our point of contact for the US games as of this year,” said Hugo‘s assistant.
Hugo‘s grin grew wider. He said to Carlos, “You really are not your father.” Under the table, Carlos‘ han d clenched. It took everything in him to give Hugo the proper response. “I am… nothing like my father… He died pathetically.”
Smirking, Hugo remarked, “And he… he had it coming.”
“I tried to offer your father the best, given his situation, but he never listened. Instead, he went against me,” Hugo revealed. He pointed a finger at Carlos, warning him, “What happened to your father is an e xample of what will become of you, should you cross me, young man.”
“This is my warning.”
“I have no reason for me to cross you,” Carlos quickly replied, “I‘m in this too deep really What do you t hink will happen to me should the authorities know? This is ily only life now being part of this. And like I said, I loath my father”
This was always what Carlos said in the past, even to the first person who approached him into the sch eme. Since the police asked for his cooperation, he had made it appear as though his own father disgu sted him,
It was sometime last year that fixers hinted they tried to recruit his father idrough another tennis player, b confident he could get away with everything
In response to Carlos‘ claims, Hugo said, “While that might be true. You have given us many Secret wins by losing your matches, but you never did so during the Grand Slams. It was always in the minor tournaments, Why is
Hugo turned to Alexander and stated, “At least your friend here gave up his chances on one Grand Slam
“Mister Bonnet, why not?” Carlos shrugged, “It has always been my aim to become the number one rank All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.
“And what‘s the difference now? Why should I believe you are willing to sacrifice your Grand Slam win in the French Open?” Hugo asked,
Carlos and Alexander turned to each other. They both nodded before Carlos answered, “Mister Bonnet, know by now that there is a cap to the point system in tennis ranking, at least in my ranking stage.”
“The tennis association only counts five hundred seventy points a year, and I already have two thousand