THE MAFIA BOSS AND THE DELICATE GIRL

Late at night in modern-day New York, the city is extremely quiet but alive. In a black luxury modern mansion, which was built like it was made for a king. The mansion feels so silent despite its large size, and the walls of the mansion scream loneliness all around. The weather was dark with heavy rainfall, thunder, and lightning. The mansion was a showcase of wealth built with money but no warmth. The surface of every corner shone with black polished marble floors, glass walls that reflected light instead of life, with every well-furnished piece of furniture selected with the amount of dollars it's worth rather than the comfort it brings. It was the type of place people dreamt of owning, yet it carried no sense of livelihood and happiness. There was immense silence, but the silence was not peaceful; the environment was heavy, as if wealth had drained the warmth out of the household. Five men in black suits with fists clenching nervously, stiff backs, shoulders stiffening, legs shaking in panic, while avoiding each other’s gaze. The room felt smaller with every tick of the clock that went by, their eyes darting nervously between one another, their fists tightened as the suspense increased. There was absolute silence, and no one made a single sound; if a pin had dropped, the sound would have been heard. The place was very intense. One of the men in black suits with a sweaty palm and clenched fists, looking worried, wonders, "I wonder why the boss called so late at night? He usually just waits in the morning before he calls meetings" This exact fact made him more nervous because Fezco had never called a meeting so late at night. He looks around in fear, sitting stiff in one position, cleaning off sweat from his palms, and recalls what happens to those who fail missions that concern Fezco, and how it does not end well for them. This fact increased his anxiety. The silence was heavy, thick and filled with fear in the atmosphere. Noone uttered a single word, the silence louder than a single scream. The quiet was not peaceful; it was feared, and even breathing out loud felt wrong. The silence was so intense that the heartbeat of a human heart, when listened to closely, can be heard from a distance. The men frozen in one sitting posture, like movements, would attract fatal punishments. No one dared to move an inch. The ticking of the clock moved with the sounds getting louder as time flew by, the air conditioning humming, and the breeze being directly produced by the air conditioning. Someone clears their throat to break the silence, but he later regrets it as all eyes are now set on him. The men think about the failed operation and make up scenarios in their heads that would have brought a different result, better than what they are now facing. They replay their mistakes in their heads and bring up solutions that would have brought a different outcome, and each man blames the other for what they could have avoided, increasing the intensity of the surroundings. Faint echoes of footsteps are heard from another room, all the men freeze in a more serious posture than the previous and one man among them straightens his tie and adjusts his cuff while another simultaneously wipes sweat from his palm and his face with all seriousness. One of the men remembers his first meeting with Fezco, and his fear gripped him; he had a calm but very dangerous approach to his men, who did not deliver his missions according to the way he wanted. He had a cold but calm approach to situations like this, which terrified the man because he could not read what his boss's next step would be and how it could affect their lives. The footsteps stop outside the room, and the silence intensified like it was a graveyard at 3 am. Truly, he was a mafia boss to be feared. A door opens from the living room, and every head turns at once, eyes lowered and their jaws clenching. Hands dropped from their pockets, and every ounce of confidence they had moments before was replaced with a stiff alertness as if the negative reaction would attract the wrong type of attention to them. The room felt smaller, heavy with the understanding that they were no longer in control of the situation before them. The moment Fezco Caselengo stepped into the living room with his trusted personal assistant Jackson Fisher following him right at his back with an iPad in his right hand and an office pen in his left breast pocket, the air became thickened, and the atmosphere more serious than it already was. The men stood up immediately, and every man's posture stiffened, but not with confidence but with utter fear, like soldiers facing a battle they are well aware of the negative outcome. Their eyes flickered downward, unwilling to lock eyes with him yet unable to lookaway from their boss's hard, cold gaze; their boss's presence didn't need words but commanded fear in all. He was tall with a well-built, masculine structure- he had broad shoulders which were wide, his arms firm with a strong chest which gave him a commanding appearance, his body was built for dominance and not for decoration, he wore an Alexander Amosu Vanquish II Bespoke black suit. His face was still the type of calm that made everyone in the room very uneasy, as if everyone sensed the storm that was being kept in check and ready to be unleashed. The calm all over his face showed them that the time of shouting was over, and the next step was now severe punishments. He moved slowly, one step at a time, confidently, with a cold face showing no emotion whatsoever. He didn't rush but moved like he could command any decision at any time. Fezco glares at everyone of them with a very cold, wicked glaze as he moved to his seat, examining everyone of their faces and observing their every movement and facial expression. The men becoming more nervous as time flew with no single sound heard while actively avoiding eye contact with their boss or any of their colleagues, a man about to produce a cough that never comes out from the mouth and tight fists, jaws dropped, and eyes wandering around the ground refusing to look up. The silence just increases the pressure around the room. The capacity of his power in the underworld is shown; no single word has escaped his mouth. He walks directly to sit on his armchair with his PA standing at his right-hand side, he crosses his feet and removes his jacket, and thereafter loosens his tie. He didn't rush; he adjusted his cuff slowly with his gaze directly at the men in front of him. The silence stretched heavy and intended; the room waited, he let them wait, and with each second that passed, the intensity of the atmosphere increased with pressure arising. The men watched him closely, curious, waiting for his first word and next line of action that would unfold after the unbroken silence. One man swallowed hard like he had been storing every form of fear that he had within his mouth organs and waiting for their fate with a very unsatisfied look, like he knew they had already been done for and their chance of redeeming themselves had already passed. Another lowers his eyes, showing his disappointment for their incompetence, fear gripped the room even without their boss saying a single word and yet no one dared to interrupt him. Fezco finally speaks in a low and calm voice, but ignites fear in the hearts of his men without raising his voice. With a very deep, masculine voice yet cold as steel, he says, "Explain," with a very firm look while adjusting his sitting position. Jackson, at his right hand, says nothing but observes every action and expression made by the men. The meeting officially begins, the room became silent and a man called vito stepps up and says “Boss…..the shipment of m*******a never made it to the warehouse” in fear while fezco gazed sternly at the man like lion ready to devour his prey,vico continued “the truck got stopped at some checkpoint before we could leave the city to the warehouse the cops got tipped off and they seized they whole load and…..and we tried to pass another route but the driver panicked at the sight of the cops” in a slow tone to avoid making the wrong statement. He continued "the police checked the van and the driver's tone of voice sold us out and they insisted on checking the van and found the marijauana”. Fezco answered, "Is that all?" in a stern voice, "Yes, sir, in a trembling voice. Fezco stared right into him, "and the cash? You left out the part that the cash was stolen before you all went to deliver the m*******a because our dear Mario forgot to check the van that I clearly told him to check before departure, and disregarded it. Jackson simultaneously agreed to every word produced by my boss with a single nod, his face emotionless and professional. As soon as the boss called my name, my stomach dropped, and I realised that all Vico's efforts to protect me had gone to no avail since our boss already knew everything that occurred during the team's mission failure. My boss continued, "You taught me I would not find out, am I right?" with a rather evil grin and clapped his hands twice. A man walked through the door, a man I recognised as a new member of our team called Benjamin. Our boss continued “Benjamin here is the secret sy I employed to keep an eye on your team because I knew I couldn’t trust you guys and you proved me to be quite right Mario stand” he called my name with command and I knew I was cooked and he chuckled and said “I already knew about everything I just wanted to hear how you would lie to me”. I stood up with every part of my body shaking, sweating profusely and before he could say anything, I started crying with Vico at my corner with a facial expression that screamed regret. He stood up calmly, which made reading him more difficult, and my doom more certain. Then he said, "I don't punish failures, of course, failure teaches it corrects, but what I must punish is disobedience and lies" Someone tried to beg from behind it wasn't me, I was crying, frozen and dumb founded, deeply in my thoughts. The boss's voice echoed in the room, sharp and final "This punishment is a correction you will remember this and keep this very day in mind. I was shaking uncontrollably, about to pee in my pants, when his shadow fell upon me, and he held me by my collar with a face that meant business. Then he stopped and leaned in closely for me to be able to for me to be able to smell his cologn he then straightened his suite and walked back to his seat with a calm voice and said “I have spared you….not because you deserve any of it but I have instilled enough fear in you and you are now afraid enough to be useful next time". I felt a relief that I had never once felt in my life, and I said "Thank you, sir" in a scared but grateful voice. Fezco dismisses most of the men and asks one man to stay behind, who is identified as Jeremiah, the head of the failed operation that was carried out. The other men hurriedly leave the room without saying a word, and they close the door behind them as they exit the premises, while the tension in the room slowly follows them out. The door closes, and the rooms feel smaller with Fezco's attention fully on Benjamin. Benjamin, now in the room filled with curiosity, fezco begins to walk around the room slowly, and the silence becomes heavier with only echoes of the steps of his shoes as he walked around the room “Did you monitor this operation like you were supposed to do, and it did not go well as planned?" He said. The calm frightens the man more than yelling with a cold look that seemed very displeased. Fezco lifts his hand in a manner that Jackson recognized as a signal that meant he was being summoned and hurridly brings his ipad and opens the surveillance camera in the warehouse and Jeremiah was no where to be found any where he was not present during the operation which caused the massive failure “ You whre the only one I told that the route which they passed was usually being checked by the cops and because you were not there the others just acted out of instruction, you cost me a fortune and now I have to deal with the losses that would take months before I can completely recover it”. Jermiah tried to explain the cause of his absence but fezco already had all the information that he needed to make his judgements " there is no escape with lies and deceit in a company that is built in the basis based on trust" he said. Jermiah was then stripped of every authority that made his juniors respect him; he lost everything that he had built with hard work just because of one incident, and the respect he commanded had vanished into thin air. He was restricted from giving orders and also seated at the table where plans were being discussed. Instead, he would answer to men who were not half as capable as he is, and every form of protection that came with being the leader of his team had been withdrawn by his boss. It was a punishment that preserved his life but also reduced his dignity, which reminded him that in Fezco's world, it's not only about survival but also about having your dignity intact. "You should be grateful and thank the God you serve that I had mercy on you because the mercy that I give people is extremely rare, Fezco said in a calm, authoritative manner. Jeremiah walked out of the room with utter shame, with his head lying low because his whole world had just crashed down all in a single moment, but he walked out alive and well, which gave him a little relief. A few minutes after Fezco requests to be alone, Jackson exits the premises. Fezco is alone in the living room, the silence returns, but this time heavier than before, and without anybody to intimidate or give orders to, his thoughts slip inward. The calm surroundings give space for a memory that was buried deep inside his heart for about seven years, and every memory of the past begins to creep in. He doesn't want to remember the memory that he had blocked out for so long, but it comes to his mind anyway. Seven years ago, a building that sits apart from the city, close enough to hear the heavy distant traffic but not close enough to be found and suspected. Its walls are heavy, thick with concrete that seemed old, stained with age, swallowing loud sound instead of echoing it. Inside the building, the air is cold with oil dropping from pipes with stacks of rusted construction rods and old dust around the premises, with light hanging from long cables, with light flickering, which is dim with long shadows that produce distorted faces. Nothing feels accurate, but with proper planning and strategy. The space is vast but empty, with chains hanging unused and crates stacked up like silent witnesses. The warehouse exists to strip people of hope before anything else is carried out, with the outcome already feeling inevitable. The man who betrayed Fezco was shaking in fear; he knew how their world had worked, betrayal is always punished, but delayed at least. Every sound feels like a signal that something bad was about to happen, with his mind replaying his mistakes repeatedly with regret and the certainty that his faith had already been sealed. He was a man already half dead, just waiting for his body to become breathless, with guilt written all over his face. What terrified him the most was not the thought of dying but the manner in which he would take his last breath. He is well aware that it will not be merciful or quick in any way, but the boss will make sure to make him understand why he is dying, and t feel the weight of his betrayal before he finally dies. He knew his life was coming to an end. The man begins to beg for mercy, he goes down on his knees, with his voice breaking, with tears flowing down from his face, he weeped like a small child who had just lost his mother “I know I do not deserve your mercy or forgiveness but I have a daughter that is seventeen years old that believes I am a good man, she lost her mother at such a tender age and I am the only parent she has know since that time please forgive me” he said with a shakingly voice while crying intensly, he continued “my daughter is expecting me home tonight because we are having a family and friends gathering and if she doesn’t see me she will be heart broken and completely shattered” he said with his head bowed and his face touching the ground, he then sobs “Take everything from me, take my name, take my rank, do anything that seems right by you, I will disappear from this city if that's what you want but please don't make her pay from the sins committed by a dear father. Don't let her grow up wondering why both her parents died on her without notice, please let me live long enough to see my daughter graduate, please," He cries, but more intensely this time. Fezco listens but doesn’t utter a single word for a while before he finally speaks “you know betrayal is not a mistake at all because it is a choice that you made,nobody made that decision for you” he said in a calm voice it’s a choice you made and very decision made carries a price that follows it which could either be bad or good” he added with eyes looking sternly at the man. The room is silent with no word made by any man present in the room. I built this life, I built this empire on loyalty and trust” he continued “not with friendship. Not with mercy. And not with plead but loyalty and trust, you took my trust and my loyalty, I kept you close,you ate at my table and then what you stab me at my back?!!!” he shook his head with complete disapproval and chuckled “there is no apology that could qualify to what you have done, there is no room for betrayal and if I forgive it I invite it into my empire which I will definitely not happen and if I hesitate I will be labeled as weak” His gaze hardens looking directly at the man with disgust “this is not cruelty but order to maintain my name” he looks at his men with no emotion “you know what must be done no one betrays me and walks away make sure he understands the significance and let his last lesson be that he refused to take instructions”. He gives the order calmly with no sign of anger but with contempt. Loud sounds of a gunshot are heard, which then fade, and intense silence follows. Fezco tells himself he feels nothing; emotions to him were absurd and a sign of weakness that other men subjected themselves to feel and indulge in. He had trained himself to believe that what he does is necessary and needed to be done to instil fear in the hearts of his men. But the truth lies in the silence that he mistakes for peace; the truth is there like certain memories that refuse to fade from the mind of one replaying and flashing without permission. He has convinced himself and lived with that lie that it now sounds like the truth. He doesn't remember the voice the man had said everything, but he remembered a detail that was mentioned by the man that he had killed, which still lingered in the mind of Fezco. It’s not the face of the man he had ended that popped into his mind, but the detail of the daughter that came to his mind without much effort. A daughter who was seventeen years old, the number crosses his mind now, and then it was brief, with no emotion. He did not dwell on the fact that he never had it; it was like an unfinished business that had no solution yet. The order was given and so was the repercussion he had to do what seemed right by him but yet the taught still lingers at the back of his mind the memory never truly left his mind. Fezco snaps back into reality, with the room quiet, with every corner screaming loneliness all around. Yes, the past was buried, but it was never truly gone. The room is quiet it’s not just physical silence but it was the silence that fills the room is heavy and not the silence that comes with peace just a moment earlier the atmosphere was filled with so much tension, fear, unsettling worries and authority that was portrayed by him but as soon as everyone left the energy left too, they was absence of people and noise that filled the atmosphere. Fezco is left with himself and his thoughts, and what he's left with is his emptiness. This stillness made his loneliness noticeable. He controlled men and major decisions while in the back, and there is nothing to command now, which exposes his emptiness deep beneath his authority. Fezco walks up to the bar in the room and pours himself a drink but it was not for pleasure it was a daily habit that was practiced by him to avoid sitting with silence this action gave his hands something to do while preventing his mind from facing whatever darkness it was not ready to face it was aquiet ritual he used to calm himself after exerting his power on someone. The drink was a distraction which he had come up with to fill the emptiness that comes after authority and the solitude it brought along. The drink was like a pause button to delay the thinking that loneliness was forcing him to feel. He takes the drink and walks to the balcony. He looks at the city from the balcony, and the city looks unreal, like it was brought out of the movies with large, tall towers that were heavily lit. It was so beautiful and well-designed in a way that brought admiration from other parts of the world. He was looking at everything that he owns and controls; the city represented his empire, but he was distant, yet the city lights brought no memories. It was a city full of promises and aspirations, but none of them had reached him. He remained an outsider to a city he claimed to own. He was close enough to see every part of the city clearly, but too far away to belong in the city that he controlled. He thinks and measures his life with the amount of money that he had earned, the number of men he controlled and how things came easily to him as he arrives at the premises. Power felt like proof that he mattered, that nothing could be ripped from him. Yet a little part of him, when there was no deal to manage, and there was no fear to command in the hearts of others, the weight of it was visible. The wealth and influence he had stayed, surrounded by everything that he had chased, he realised that what comes next is emptiness and loneliness, not from lack but from having too many wrong things. He sometimes wonders why peace kept staying at a great distance from him; it was like a place that he had always heard about but never experienced. In silence, he realised that silence does not come easily to him the way fear comes effortlessly without him working for it. Power brought him obedient men and quiet rooms, but it never reduced the tension, alertness and vigilance in his mind that never loosens. While Fezco was deep in his thoughts, he heard a knock, and it actively brought him back from his thoughts. He opened the door, and it was one of his butlers who was holding a sealed invitation card. He collects the card, locks the door back and walks back to take his seat. He opened the card and read the content, and it was a high-profile invitation card to the "A NIGHT OF CHANGE" charity gala event that was happening at 12 am that day. The event was polished, calm, well civilised, and very far from the world that he usually controls, yet it still belonged to his class and circle of people. Fezco’s eyes scanned the manner in which the words were written. He studies the invitation card briefly, every detail, every sponsor, every brand and every man with power listed; he takes every note on everything. Appearances were crafted to impress, and alliances were carefully hidden and formed under polite greetings and money flowing under the pretence of generosity to people. Nothing was accidental, but done with a well-calculated strategy; to him, it was not a social event but like a chessboard with every sponsor, guest and position to be considered before making a decision. Declining the invitation was like saying no to more power and influence that came with it, and saying no to power is not an option in Fezco’s world. The gala is more than a social gathering; it is a theatre of fake masks with every guest walking elegantly, with beautiful smiles and sharp eyes that hide absolute calculation. The chandeliers are usually golden, calm, which showcases expensive gowns and tuxedos, but deep within the surface, main deals are struck, alliances are formed, while some are tested. Every event is polished, refined and seems completely harmless, but Fezco knows better. He could see right through the guests and how their loud laughter veils the envy that they had towards each other. The surface beauty of galas such as this sharply relates to his reality, the cold, silent and heavy walls of his mansion and the loneliness that even his power could not fill. Elsewhere, in a small, softly lit room with pale cream and gentle blue with touches of pink colour around the room, creating a surrounding of quiet, her room reflects her quiet and introverted nature. Every object in the room is arranged with care; there are books on the table with pencils arranged in a container. The curtains are packed, where reflections of the moonlight are visible in the room. She prepares for the same charity gala, arranging her dress with immense care, smoothening the wrinkled sides of her gown but she doesn’t know that the evening she anticipates with excitement will draw her to dangerous forces she has not yet detected, that her path is drawing nearer to a man whose world has been built on power, control, fear and uncovered secrets and she remains unaware that her life is about to mix with one based on violence, influence and the weight of past uncovered secrets. Somewhere beyond the light, bright candles and beyond the shimmers of the big chandeliers and the fake smiles that were worn on everyone present at the gala, a presence quietly walks into the premises, not as a figure to be noticed but as a feeling that settles itself without announcements. She was untitled, unnamed, existing only as a mere impression which could not be traced to a face. Meanwhile, Fezco remains surrounded by power, wealth, authority and calculating individuals unknown to him that something beyond the world he controlled was about to approach him, but a feeling that settles into the story