VITO'S POSSESSION

The city was loud. Always loud. Horns, people yelling, music from cars driving by. You couldn’t hear yourself think. Except on this one small street. There was a tiny shop there. Paint was chipped. The sign was crooked. "LINA'SREPAIRS”. Inside, it smelled like glue, old leather, and dust. Lina owned it. She was 22. Kind to a fault. The kind of person who would fix a stranger’s bag and say "pay me later" and never see the money again. She talked quietly. Almost like a whisper. And she was scared. All the time. Scared of loud noises. Scared of men with angry faces. Scared of being alone at night. That morning the heat was brutal. Sweat was sticking to the back of her shirt. Lina was wiping her table for the third time. Just to keep her hands busy. She was humming to herself. Some old song her mom used to sing. Then the noise changed. Boom. Boom. Boom. Not music. Not traffic. Tires. Heavy tires on the road. Lina froze. Four black cars pulled up outside her shop. SUVs. Tinted windows. The doors opened and men stepped out. All black. Suits, sunglasses, shoes that probably cost more than her whole shop. Her stomach dropped. And then he walked in. Vito. Vito was 28. Tall. Like, had-to-look-up tall. Broad shoulders. Arms that looked like they’d been in fights. His face didn’t move much. No smile. No frown. Just... blank. Dark eyes that looked right through you. Everyone in the city knew Vito. He was Don Rocco’s right hand. Which meant he was the guy who "handled problems". And problems had a way of disappearing around Vito. But nobody talked about the other side of Vito. The side that hadn’t slept right in 3 years. The side that was sick of blood on his hands. The side that protected people like they were glass. Sometimes too much. Sometimes until it broke them. Vito stepped into the shop and stopped. He looked around. Small. Clean. Pathetic, almost. Then his eyes landed on her. Lina. She was behind the counter. Small. Hair in a messy bun. Big eyes. And she looked terrified. Good. That meant she had sense. Vito dropped a black bag on her table. It made a heavy thud. "Fix it," he said. His voice was low. Rough. Like he didn’t use it much. Lina nodded so fast her head hurt. "Y-yes sir." She was shaking. She opened the bag. Inside was a belt. Thick black leather. Mafia belt. The buckle was snapped clean off. She picked it up with both hands. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. Then she dropped it. And because her luck was terrible today, she knocked over the whole box on her table too. Crash. Needles, thread, screws, little metal bits everywhere. Lina’s face went red. "I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!" She bent down immediately. Tears were burning in her eyes. She would not cry. Not in front of him. But Vito was already down there. He moved fast. He picked up a small metal screw and held it out to her. Their fingers touched. It was only a second. But Lina felt it. Warmth. Not the scary kind. Not the "he’s going to hurt me" kind. Safe. Which made no sense. This was Vito. But in that second, she didn’t feel scared. Vito stood up. He didn’t smile. He never did. But he looked at her face. Really looked. Like he was trying to see past the fear to whatever was underneath. "How much?" he asked. Lina shook her head. "No. No money. It’s okay. It’s just a belt. 5 minutes of work." Vito’s eyebrows pulled together. "Everything has a price." Lina whispered, "Not this one." He didn’t answer that. Instead his eyes dropped. Down to her wrist. There was a mark there. Faint. Brown. A circle with a line through it. Old. Vito’s whole body went still for half a second. He knew that mark. He’d seen it in Don Rocco’s old files. From years ago. From before he was even in the family. He didn’t say anything. He just turned and walked to the door. Stopped. Still didn’t look at her. "Be careful," he said quietly. "This street. It’s not for people like you." Then he left. The doors shut. The cars drove off. Lina stood there for a full minute. Heart pounding in her chest. She touched her wrist where he’d looked. Why? She’d only fixed a belt. But her hand still felt warm where his fingers had touched hers. She tried to go back to work. Couldn’t. All she could think about was his eyes. Cold. But not at her. And that voice. "Be careful." --- Outside, Vito got into the back seat of the car. Marco was driving. Marco glanced at him in the mirror. "Boss. Can I ask something?" "What." "Why that shop? We got three guys who fix belts. Better ones." Vito didn’t answer right away. He was turning that little metal screw in his hand. The one from her floor. In his head: Her hands were shaking. But she didn’t cry. She said no money. Everyone wants money. And that mark. I know I’ve seen that mark._ "Boss?" Marco tried again. Vito looked up. "Put two men in that shop." Marco frowned. "Watch it?" "Yes. Day and night. Stay across the street. Don’t talk to her. Don’t approach. Just watch." "Yes boss." Vito leaned back and closed his eyes. Stupid order. He had real things to deal with. Rival families. Money missing from the market. Don Rocco breathing down his neck. But he kept seeing her face. Scared. Like a bird in a storm. And he hated the idea of that storm hitting her. --- That night Lina closed late. She was sweeping when she saw movement outside. Two men. Across the street. Black clothes. Arms crossed. Just... standing. Staring at her shop. Lina’s blood went cold. She dropped the broom and ran inside. Locked the door. Locked the back door too. She sat on the floor behind the counter and hugged her knees. "Why me? What did I do?" Vito’s words echoed in her head. "Be careful. This street eats soft people alive." Was this what he meant? She didn’t sleep. Not really. Every little sound made her jump. She dreamed of black cars and men watching her through the window. --- The next morning Vito was up at 5am. He didn’t tell anyone. He just got in his car and drove. He told himself he was going to check on the market. Lie. He drove past Lina’s shop. Slow. Didn’t stop. She was there. Open already. She looked tired. Eyes red. Like she hadn’t slept. Vito’s jaw tightened. _I said watch her. Not scare the hell out of her._ He pulled over a block away and called Marco. "Why is she scared?" Marco sounded confused. "Boss, we didn’t do anything. We just stood there like you said." Vito hung up. Hit the steering wheel. "Idiots." He didn’t go back to the shop. But he thought about her all day. During a meeting with Don Rocco’s men. While eating lunch he didn’t taste. While cleaning his gun at night. Where did I see that mark? Why did she refuse to take money? Why does she look so damn alone? Vito didn’t think about people. People were jobs. People were targets. People were problems. But Lina wasn’t a problem. She was just a girl in a small shop. And somehow that was worse. --- That evening Don Rocco called. His voice was rough, like he’d been smoking for 40 years. "Vito. We have a problem. Someone hit the market. Stole money. People are talking. Find who did it." "Yes boss." "And Vito. Stop wasting time. I hear you’ve been driving around. We got bigger fish." Vito said nothing. "Understood." He hung up. Then he looked out the window of his office. Right toward the part of the city where Lina’s shop was. He told himself it was strategic. The market was near there. Another lie. The truth was ugly and simple. He wanted to see her again. Not because of the belt. Not because of the mark. Just to see if she was still okay. If those men had scared her. And the fact that he cared? That scared Vito more than any rival boss with a gun. Because caring got people killed in his world.