Mafia Damian's Bride

On Friday morning, the sun rose in the sky, seeping into an office on the top floor of a multi-story building. Damian Tucker, a 28-year-old Black man with striking blue eyes, short black hair, and several tattoos on his body, wore a black suit and sat in his office chair going through his laptop. His hair was styled in an Afro cut, and his face was stern and non-smiling as his fingers clicked over the keyboard. He was working on a project when his office door chimed with a doorbell sound. His assistant, Jeff Brody—a tall Black man as well, dressed in a blue shirt and black trousers—strode into the office with a bow. "Good morning, Boss. Mr. Max Dawson is here to see you," Jeff said, standing before Damian. Damian sat like a king in his office chair. His blue eyes shifted away from his laptop and over to Jeff. "Let him in," he replied calmly. Damian was aware that Mr. Max Dawson was the father of the woman he admired the most. He had even tattooed this woman's name on his chest, making his heart flutter. Damian also had a tattoo of his mother's name on the left side of his chest, close to his heart. He watched Jeff stride out of his office, and a few minutes later, a middle-aged man walked in. In North Haven Town, Damian was the mafia boss, controlling a large-scale business. He watched Max stride forward to approach his desk. "Good morning, Damian," Mr. Max greeted. He wore a black suit paired with polished black shoes. But Damian's gaze remained impassive. Damian didn't make any attempt to stand up and greet Mr. Max, or shake hands with him. "What do you want?" Damian asked, going straight to business. He was still seated in his chair, his fingers clicking swiftly on his laptop keyboard as he tried to track a business deal. Mr. Max swallowed hard, standing before Damian. He knew that doing business with Damian was difficult—unlike it had been with Damian's father, Mr. Mark Tucker. Though the Tucker name instilled fear in the whole of North Haven. "It's business, Damian. A deal worth 10 million dollars," Mr. Max said, pleased when he saw Damian look away from his laptop and shift his gaze to him. "Sit," Damian gestured to the middle-aged man. "Go on," he ordered, and Mr. Max went into detail about what the business was about. Damian listened with interest. "So, what do you need my assistance for?" Mr. Max sat across from Damian and explained, "As the new mafia lord, I don't want the other groups to interfere in this business, and I will need your assistance to loan me the money to proceed with it." Damian stared at Mr. Max's face silently. He was interested in this business, but he had other motives. For dealings like this, he would personally handle them instead of handing them over to his group to take care of. "I will lend you the money, but you must promise to pay it back with interest. I don't care if the business works out or not. All I care about is my money," Damian said, his voice firm. Mr. Max nodded. "You have nothing to worry about, Damian. I will pay you back, but I will need your assistance with it," Mr. Max said, sitting across from Damian, who was watching him. "Don't worry, I will have Jeff assist you. First, sign the deal." Damian offered the document to Mr. Max to sign for the loan. His mind worked in mysterious ways regarding how to get Alicia as he focused his attention on her father. Damian watched Mr. Max pick up a pen and sign the deal. "Done," Mr. Max said with a broad smile on his face as he rose to leave Damian's office. "I will be looking forward to the repayment date," Damian said, to which Mr. Max nodded and left the office. After the deal ended, Damian kept thinking about the arrangement and about using it to get Alicia. "I cannot allow Mr. Max to have that kind of money. It will bring the police's knowledge upon us, so I have to take care of it." A smirk played its way onto Damian's lips, and he called Jeff back into his office. "Take care of Mr. Max’s business and ensure that the money gets transferred to my offshore accounts." "Okay, Boss." Jeff's eyes widened in surprise, but he dared not question Damian's orders. He looked up to him as an older brother, being only two years younger. He went to do as he was told. *** Four months later, Mr. Max was heartbroken to see that the business didn't go as planned. After borrowing money from the ruthless mafia lord, he had only a one-year interval to pay off the 10 million dollars he had loaned. "Honey, what's the problem?" Mrs. Jennifer Dawson came into the room. She was a middle-aged woman of 45 years, and she looked at her husband as he paced about worriedly. "I am finished!" Mr. Max cried, placing his hands on his head. "You cannot be finished, honey. Talk to me," Jennifer tried to beg her husband, but he said, "I shouldn't have trusted that son of a devil. Doing business with his father hadn't been bad. Our dealings hadn't been hijacked by the government, and now, I have lost everything I worked hard for." Mr. Max was on the brink of tears. He shouldn't have trusted Damian to handle the business for him. The boy was still young and new as a mafia group leader. "Calm down, honey. Talk to me," Jennifer tried to talk her husband out of his misery, but he smacked her hand away and shouted at her, "Don't touch me! Where do I get 10 million dollars to pay the T-Group?" "The T-Group? Who are they? Calm down, honey. We can raise the money. Where did you borrow such money from? Why would you even borrow such a huge amount? For gambling?" Jennifer asked, shocked to hear the amount of money her husband was mentioning. But he told her, "Get out of my room. I don't have time to explain anything to you. Just leave me alone. If I don't raise that money in a year's time, they will come for us. All of them. You need to leave with our kids. They shouldn't return here. I am finished." Jennifer stubbornly shook her head and told her husband, "I cannot leave you to die alone, honey. You cannot turn me into a widow at this young age. You shouldn't have borrowed the money in the first place. Calm down; we can see how to raise the money." Max went to his home office, leaving his wife alone in their bedroom. She paced around, wondering what was wrong with her husband. That night, when Mrs. Jennifer came out on the top floor, her eyes darted to her youngest daughter seated on the couch in the living room and watching the television downstairs. "What's going on, Mom? I heard you and Dad arguing," Alicia, a 19-year-old girl, asked. She watched her mother striding downstairs to meet her. She was a nursing student and hadn't graduated yet. Her skin was as fair as the sun; she had long blonde hair and resembled her mother. "It's your father. He loaned 10 million dollars and now he has lost everything," Jennifer cried, and Alicia collasped on the couch. "What?! 10 million dollars? Where do we start paying off such a huge amount of money? Oh no! We are doomed, Mom, if Dad cannot pay that off." Alicia joined her mother in crying in the living room. They were rich, so why would her father go and loan such a huge amount of money? It meant they would have to sell off some of their properties. But would it even be enough to pay off such a huge debt? Alicia cried.