The sneaky scoundrel. He pondered.
Melekh’s overt disdain for Abu simmered, a resentment poised to overflow. He loathed Abu’s deceptive methods but acknowledged his value in navigating their country’s traditional customs. Abu’s astute tactics and skill were profitable to the company. Even with his cunning maneuvers, the tension among them persisted. Abu had swindled money from him in a stock exchange transaction ten years ago, and Melekh never forgot the two million dollars Abu stole and then lied to cover his tracks with the investor.
Melekh peered out the window, ogling futuristic flying vehicles as they zipped through Dubai’s congested skyway, creating a mesmerizing sight. As his sleek black spaceship dogged and darted toward his new headquarters, the Persian Gulf shimmered in the morning sunlight.
The spacecraft’s engines generated a symphony of echoes as they weaved through the urban landscape, bouncing off the spiral, steel-peaked buildings. With its circular helipad adorned with gleaming glass walls, the new P.J. Waxit headquarters received Melekh’s jetted space vehicle. A gentle whirring sound reverberated as the landing gear touched the pad.
The lanky humanoids, dressed in blue and black bodysuits with knee-length black boots, approached the vessel with purposeful steps to clean, refuel, and unload luggage. They chatted with each other with a robotic tonal sound.
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