A horseless carriage. Ludacris . He couldn’t help himself, he’d become so upset over their conversation that he’d lost control of his emotions. Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled he thought to himself as he walked down the long corridor to his office.

“A message for you, Sir.” Wesley declared as he entered room. He placed a plain envelope in his hand, nodded his head and walked away. He was never much for conversation, always focused on the task at hand. He supposed this was why he liked Wesley so much.

The envelope found its way to a neat pile on his desk, amongst other unopened envelopes. It would remain unopened, he was already aware of its contents, his time was running out.

“Wesley” he called out, and walked to the window as he waited for his man to enter. The view was the best thing his office provided. It overlooked the entire estate, all of their buildings laid out before him. “Wesley” he called again, growing inpatient. Waiting was never something he was good at.