Читать книгу Palmist. Books 1,2,3 онлайн

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Two guards, who discovered the loss, turned themselves in to their boss. – Look for yourself. Alive or dead. Better alive. I need her for the case. You are two of my best guards; I would not like to see you with a hole in your forehead. The guards came out of the office briskly. A whole search party was assigned to search for Sultana.

Arthur was a terrible man. His power was much greater than anyone suspected was. Not many people knew about it, and those who knew it were a few. His main official field of activity was cafes and restaurants. He himself did not like nightclubs, and therefore did not open them. Arthur liked to look after young girls and dancers, and later they found themselves in his slavery. It was his weakness. Only a few people knew about his slavery, the bulk of the workers believed that he was just a cruel restaurant owner who loves girls.

By nature, yes, Arthur was very cruel. This cruelty had developed in him over the years, even his harsh features on his face spoke about it. He had such an evil face that, looking at him, you could tell a lot about this man. Arthur was not tall, about one hundred and sixty-five centimeters. A solid build, his skin was dark, and flabby, despite the fact that he was not old. He was about fifty years old. His eyes and hair were black, the arrangement of the hair on his head was similar to a lion’s mane, and they were stiff and not pleasant to the touch. His habit of combing his hair back with his left hand has developed over the years and over time, he did it so mechanically that the hair took a certain pose. His gaze was aquiline, his eyes glittered maliciously, and nothing could escape his gaze. His rough skin on his face and sunken dimples indicated that he smoked too much, and he always smelled unpleasantly of cigarettes. Despite all his rudeness, Arthur was always clean-shaven, and always wore the same suit and never changed it for another.