Mafia Damian's Bride

Five years ago, Damian Tucker, a 28-year-old man, sat in his office on the top floor of a multi-story building. He had piercing blue eyes and short black hair, along with several tattoos etched across his body. A cross adorned his right arm, while an eagle graced his left. Likewise, the names of two women were inked on his right chest. Damian was a mafia boss, respected and feared throughout his community. He ruled the shadowy underworld of cartels in Northwind Town. Inside his stark white office, Damian wore a tailored black suit and sat behind his desk, scrolling through his laptop to review his other coded operations. A knock at the door interrupted him. "Boss, Mr. Max Dawson is here to see you," his assistant, Jeff Brody, informed him. Damian sighed. His father had only recently handed over the leadership position to him. He glanced at Jeff and replied, "Let him in." Mr. Max Dawson, a man deeply entangled in illegal business dealings, entered the office. Damian made no move to stand or shake hands. "What do you want?" Damian asked, remaining seated in his chair as he continued clicking through his laptop. Mr. Max swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He knew doing business with Damian was far more daunting than it had been with Damian's father, Mr. Mark Tucker—a name that alone instilled infinite fear in rival groups. "It's business, Damian. A deal worth 10 million dollars," Mr. Max said. He was pleased to see Damian finally look away from his laptop and shift his gaze toward him. "Sit," Damian gestured to the middle-aged man. "Go on." He ordered, and Mr. Max launched into the details of the venture. Damian listened with keen interest. "So, what do you need my assistance for?" he finally asked. "As the feared lord of this world, I need you to ensure the other groups don't interfere. And I'll need your assistance to loan me the money to proceed," Mr. Max explained. Damian was intrigued by the business, but he harbored ulterior motives. Deals like this, he would personally hijack rather than hand them over to his crew. "I'll lend you the money," Damian said, "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." Mr. Max nodded eagerly. "You have nothing to worry about, Damian. I'll pay you back, but I'll need your assistance with it," Mr. Max replied, sitting across from Damian, who eyed him steadily. "Don't worry. I'll have Jeff assist you. First, sign the deal." Damian slid the document across the desk for Mr. Max to sign and secure the loan. His mind worked in mysterious ways as he watched the man reach for a pen and scrawl his signature. "Done," Mr. Max said with a broad smile, rising to leave. "I'll be looking forward to the date." Damian commented. Mr. Max exited the office after the deal was sealed, and Damian sat back, pondering the millions at stake. "I cannot allow Mr. Max to have that kind of money. It will draw the higher authorities' attention to us, so I have to take care of it." A smirk played across Damian's lips as he called Jeff back in. "Take care of Mr. Max's business and ensure the money gets transferred to my offshore accounts." "Okay, Boss," Jeff replied, his eyes widening in surprise. But he dared not question Damian's orders. He looked up to him like an older brother and was only two years younger. He went to carry out the instructions. ***** A few months later, Mr. Max was heartbroken to discover that the business hadn't gone as planned. After borrowing money from the ruthless mafia lord, he now had only a year to pay back 10 million dollars. "Honey, what's the problem?" Mrs. Jennifer Dawson entered the room. She was a middle-aged woman of 45, watching her husband pace worriedly. "I am finished!" he exclaimed, clutching his head in his hands. "You can't be finished, honey. Talk to me," Mrs. Jennifer pleaded, but he shook his head. "I shouldn't have trusted that son of a devil. Doing business with his father had never been bad—our dealings were never hijacked by the government. And now, I've lost everything I worked for." Mr. Max was on the brink of tears. He shouldn't have trusted Damian to handle the business for him. The young man was still new to leading the mafia group. "Calm down, honey. Talk to me," Mrs. Jennifer tried to coax him out of his misery, but he smacked her hand away and shouted, "Don't touch me! Where am I supposed to 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 a huge amount from? Why would you even borrow so much? For gambling?" Mrs. Jennifer asked, shocked by the sum. But he snapped, "Get out of my room. I don't have time to explain. Just leave me alone. If I don't raise that money in a year's time, they'll come for us—all of them. You need to leave with our kids. They shouldn't come back here. I am finished." Mrs. Dawson stubbornly shook her head. "I cannot leave you to die alone, honey. You can't turn me into a widow at this young age. You shouldn't have borrowed the money in the first place. Calm down—we can figure out how to raise it." Mr. Max stormed off to his office, leaving his wife alone in their bedroom. She paced the room, wondering what had gone wrong with her husband. That night, Mrs. Jennifer emerged to find her youngest daughter, Alicia, in the living room. "What's going on, Mom? I heard you and Dad arguing," Alicia, a 19-year-old nursing student who hadn't yet graduated, asked. Her skin was as fair as the sun, her hair very blonde, and she resembled her mother closely. "It's your father. He borrowed 10 million dollars, and now he's lost everything." Mrs. Jennifer burst into tears, and Alicia nearly fainted. "What? 10 million dollars? Where do we even start paying off a sum like that? Oh no, we're doomed, Mom. If Dad can't pay it off," Alicia cried, joining her mother in the living room. They were a wealthy family, so why had her father borrowed such a massive amount? It meant they'd have to sell off some of their properties—but would it even be enough to cover the debt? Alicia sobbed.