The Charismatic Charlie Wade

When Gustavo traded the remnants of the drug lord’s grandeur for the spot beside Jagoan, anticipation radiated from him. He couldn’t wait to draw near to Jagoan, but just as the excitement built, his pocketed phone vibrated unexpectedly.

Swiftly extracting his cellphone, Gustavo peered down to find none other than Warden Bruce Weinstein calling. It caught him off guard.

His initial reaction was, “What the heck? Bruce Weinstein, a nobody, has the audacity to ring me up directly? Does he really believe he’s a big shot? I don’t even know when this started.”

Gustavo already harbored a visible aversion to answering calls. The act seemed to grow more distasteful to him with time. He often felt that picking up the phone would lead to an unpleasant experience. He preferred his subordinates to report respectfully in person or send a message.

Of course, when issuing orders, he still favored phone calls, reveling in the direct impact it offered.

Everyone around Gustavo knew his aversion to phone calls. Typically, he’d initiate contact with a message, always starting with “Dear Mr. Sanchez.” Bruce Weinstein deviated from this norm by placing a direct call, an unusual occurrence in years.

Had Gustavo received such a call earlier, he would have promptly hung up. However, the near-death encounter with Joseph earlier that day left him more vigilant of his surroundings, a fear of the unknown settling in. After a moment’s contemplation, he reluctantly pressed the answer button.

Nevertheless, Gustavo’s displeasure was evident in his tone as he queried, “Bruce, I’ve told you not to call me on regular days. Can’t you send a message first if you need something?”

Bruce Weinstein responded with a hint of distress, “Mr. Sanchez, is Mr. Jagoan with you today? I have an urgent matter and need his assistance.”

“Mr. Jagoan?” Gustavo questioned, surprised. “Why would you need Mr. Jagoan?”

adjacent bed, sat

handed the

the phone, Jagoan greeted with a smile, “Mr. Warden, is there something

Weinstein, sounding anxious, replied, “Mr. Jagoan, the issue you mentioned earlier about dealing with men’s health issues… Have you ever seen something where it goes too

this before?” Jagoan, aware of the impending pain, spoke calmly. “Certainly, I have. Why are you concerned about this now? What happened? Did you not

Jagoan, today… I was too presumptuous during the day… I thought your warnings were exaggerations… It wasn’t until reality

eyes as he pleaded, “Mr. Jagoan, please save me, I might

surprise and inquired, “What specifically

I don’t know if it was excitement or something else, but my nether region suddenly swelled

He responded, “It can be saved, but it requires acupuncture. I’m currently in prison, so it’ll take more

return to prison immediately! I can receive your treatment there,” Bruce Weinstein hastily

time-consuming. It requires you to be naked, and there will be some pain

trusted subordinate escort you out of the cell and discreetly take

to the gravity of his predicament, Bruce

guarantee absolute safety. It was, after all, a prison with numerous blind spots and constant surveillance. Any gossip spreading about his situation

secret passage, felt like the safest option. The Rothschild

the proposal, saying, “In that case, I have no issues. Once you return,