Mafia's Second Chance Love

Chapter 4: The Den

The neon lights of the city danced in the night, casting an iridescent glow over the bustling streets. London never slept, and neither did I, especially when it came to finding a way into Kira's life without feeling too intrusive. It had been weeks since I heard of the hospital incident, and the longing to reconnect had only grown stronger.

I had considered various options, but nothing felt natural enough. Kira's world was one of compassion and selflessness, working tirelessly for the SafeHaven organization. I didn't want to disrupt that delicate balance. So, I continued to watch from the shadows, waiting for the right opportunity. Her visits to that strange young man continued almost every night, itching my jealousy. We still couldn't find any information regarding his life or even his real name.

Meanwhile, another matter was demanding my attention – one that had the potential to bring me closer to Kira in a more unconventional way. It involved Mr. Harrington, the CEO of SafeHaven and my connection to the world of high-stakes gambling.

After my father's death, I'd made the conscious decision to abandon the drug trade, distancing myself from the family's illicit empire. It no longer aligned with my principles, and I'd begun building my legitimate property business. It was a slow but steady transition, and the legal side of things soon outstripped the illicit gains. Yet, I couldn't completely sever my ties with the underworld, particularly the gambling circles. My ties with the mafia were strong. I was their medium between legal and illegal businesses and gave much needed cover to them when need be. It's not honest, but it's not drugs.

With my connections, everyone close to Kira was closely monitored and observed. And Mr. Harrington didn't leave my grip. I learned years ago about his habits. Mr. Harrington was notorious among the gambling circles, known for both his fortune and his recklessness. He frequented one of the underground gambling dens I still had ties to. I learnt that not only did he gamble his own money, but the organisation's too. There had been times when they couldn't pay their bills, and an anonymous donation would miraculously cover the expenses. I couldn't stand by and watch Kira struggle to make ends meet; I had to intervene without revealing my true identity.

Tonight, I'd initiate my plan, and the anxiety had caused my palms to grow damp. Every step brought me closer to Kira, and I donned my suit for the occasion. Waiting at the entrance of my apartment building was Sebastian, his welcoming smile inviting me into the car.

Once inside the underground poker den, I spotted Mr. Harrington at a high-stakes table. His usually composed demeanor had cracked, replaced by an unmistakable desperation in his eyes.The evening grew progressively ominous as the stakes climbed ever higher. Mr. Harrington wasn't merely losing his own money; he was squandering the organization's finances. It was evident that he had surpassed his limits, intoxicated by the perilous allure of the game.

Mr. Harrington's hands trembled as he shuffled the deck of cards, his eyes darting nervously between his opponents. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his normally immaculate appearance marred by disheveled hair and a bruised face. It was clear he was on the verge of a colossal loss.

As I observed from a distance, my heart rate quickened. This was the moment I'd been waiting for, the opening I needed to approach Mr. Harrington with my proposition. The underground poker den was shrouded in shadows, save for the dim, flickering lights above the tables.

Sebastian, ever vigilant, stood at my side. His presence provided a reassuring calmness amidst the tense atmosphere of the room. Together, we made our way towards Mr. Harrington's table, weaving through the haze of cigarette smoke and hushed conversations.

I approached him just as the final hand unfolded. Mr. Harrington's opponents wore expressions of anticipation, eager to claim their winnings. He, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all hope.

"Mr. Harrington," I greeted him, my voice carrying a veneer of formality, "a word, if you please."

He glanced up, startled by my sudden appearance. Recognition flickered in his eyes, but he couldn't place where he'd seen me before. That was an advantage I intended to exploit.

"Who are you?" Mr. Harrington stammered, clearly flustered by the dire circumstances he found himself in.

"I'm Ace," I introduced myself smoothly, offering him a confident smile. "A friend, you might say, with a solution to your current predicament."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't recall owing you any money," he replied cautiously.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington, it's not about the money you owe me," I replied cryptically, leaning closer to ensure our conversation remained private. "It's about the money you owe them," I added, nodding subtly toward the other players at the table.

Realization dawned in his eyes, and his shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. "I'm in over my head," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

'Leave us a minute.' I stated. The two bodyguards around the table helped the other players stand up. They didn't understand at first but they didn't have much of a choice when the two bulky men directed them to another table. Mr. Harrington was at a loss.

I nodded to the bodyguards, signaling them to step away. As they left, Mr. Harrington and I were left alone at the table, bathed in the dim, smoky glow of the underground poker den. The silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the distant murmurs of other gamblers.

Mr. Harrington finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with resignation. "I've made a mess of things, haven't I?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I leaned forward, my expression sympathetic. "We all make mistakes, Mr. Harrington. It's part of being human. But it seems you keep making the same mistakes.''

'I haven't seen you here.' Mr. Harrington blurred out.

'Indeed. I don't usually come here at the tables.' I admitted. 'I'm usually watching everything from up there.' I said and pointed to the office on the second floor with the huge windows that had a clear view to the tables. Mr. Harrignton remained silent. It was only after a minute that a panicked expression spread on his face.

'Oh dear! I will repay you! I will pay back everything I owe!' His voice slightly raised and gained the attention of the two bodyguards.With my reassuring nod, they turned away again. 'I will find the money! I wi-will make it up to you!'

'Well, we both know that's going to be quite difficult. That is a lot of money.' I answered, deliberately not giving him an easy time. Mr. Harrington's panic was palpable, and I watched as his desperation grew. It was a crucial moment, one that could determine whether he would agree to my proposal. I let the tension linger in the air for a moment before I decided to reveal my plan.

'However, I might have a solution for you.' I began, my voice calm and measured.

His eyes widened with curiosity and a glimmer of hope. "How?" he asked eagerly.

'I'm aware you are in charge of an organization called 'SafeHaven'. He only nodded suspiciously. 'I'm willing to sponsor your annual charity event.' I explained. ''I'll cover all the expenses, Mr. Harrington. It will not only clear your debts but also contribute to the organization. It's a win-win situation."

For a moment, he seemed stunned by the offer, unable to process the unexpected turn of events. "You would do that?" he asked, his voice filled with astonishment. The kind of answer I was hoping for. It came as a miracle to him and not as a carefully planned moment to happen. I nodded in agreement.

'W-Why?' Frankly, I thought he wouldn't ask, judging by how deep buried he is right now in debt.

'I need the tax benefits. No matter how much money I have, I do not want to give more than I have to the government.' I smiled, keeping my connection to Kira hidden.

Mr. Harrington let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping further. "I know you're right," he admitted, his voice tinged with defeat. "But I can't make a decision like this without consulting Kira."

Kira. The mention of her name sent a surge of emotions through me, a mix of longing and determination. It was clear that Mr. Harrington held her opinion in high regard, and I needed to tread carefully.

"I understand your concern," I assured him, "but time is of the essence. The event is fast approaching, and I can ensure that your debts are settled promptly. It's a one-time offer, Mr. Harrington." I tried to express the urgency of the situation but it seems that he is still thinking about it. It's time to make the final move. It will either prompt him to agree or I will fail tonight and tomorrow come up with a new plan to enter Kira's life.

I stood up, adjusted my suit and looked at Sebastian. Time to leave.

'I understand your hesitance, Mr. Harrignton. But as I previously said, this is a one-time offer. Goodnight.' I took a step back ready to leave. My heart beating faster. It's now or never.

"Wait," Mr. Harrington's voice trembled with desperation, his bruised face a testament to the turmoil he'd endured. He stood at the precipice, unable to bear the crushing weight of his gambling debts any longer.

I turned to him, my demeanor unyielding, and met his gaze with an icy resolve. "Speak, Mr. Harrington."

He hesitated, his eyes darting between me and the poker table where his fortunes had unraveled. "I'll consult with Kira," he finally conceded, his tone laced with resignation. "If she agrees, then... we have a deal."

I nodded, my expression devoid of warmth. "Good."

With that, we shook hands, sealing the pact that would liberate him from the shackles of his insurmountable debts. The agreement also meant salvation for SafeHaven, which would benefit from the financial lifeline I offered.

'I'll be waiting for your answer.' I said, and left with Sebastian. The two bodyguards and I said our goodnight's as they opened the door to reveal a rainy London.

Leaving the underground gambling den, I couldn't deny a sense of accomplishment, though it remained concealed beneath my composed facade. This was a significant stride toward infiltrating Kira's world in a meaningful manner, aligning with her mission while silently drawing us closer together. Now, all that lingered was the outcome of Mr. Harrington's conversation with Kira, and the hope that she would perceive the opportunity laid before her.

Back in the car, Sebastian cast me a knowing glance, his smile wry. "Your plans are always intriguing, Ace."

I allowed a mirthless chuckle to escape. "In this world, my friend, one must always play their cards right."

We navigated the neon-lit streets of London, my mind fixed on the future, and the prospect of reuniting with Kira.