"I don't think you understand, boy," the flabby man across him said in condescension. Oh, Delian Leofric understood well. This loan shark thought his financial skills were better than the mafia that he decided to skim off the money he sends them.
Wanting to sound empathetic, the gangster boss said, "I don't even profit from this anymore. I just do it since I know how people in Erebus are in need of money." He pointed his golden-ringed finger at Delian. "Even people who work for you."
He almost felt sorry for the man. Some people like him, when given a small amount of power, don't realize they're still pests in the grand scheme of an underground organization. So easy to get rid of and replace.
"Mr. Nikos, the police and justice system of this city also work for me. You know what happens after a few calls."
The boss's nostrils flared and his face turned red. "If you think you could threaten me with that, go to your daddy and cry to him about it." Cheers and ridicule were heard among the other gangsters inside the opulent room with them. For a gang getting no profit, they sure do look tacky.
Looking back at his lone guard, he shook his head sadly. "I know, it's a shame. Even my father wouldn't be able to save you now. So what about this, since I hate wasting time?" He clasped his fingers together.
"We both hate talking to the suits and badges, so the easier way would be for one of your lackeys here to shoot you in the head, right now." He studied each man as Nikos' face contorted like the gargoyles by his balcony. "And why would they do that?"
Delian leaned in as if explaining algebra to a child. He replied, "Simply because that person will replace you and will get double the percentage." He let the weight of his words settle in before going on, "Also, I would need a sharpshooter like that in my higher ranks."
With an air of composure, Delian sat back in comfort like he was in his own home. The color drained from the gangster's face as his eyes darted from one of his cronies to the other. The look of betrayal was starting to come out. He could see their resolves crumbling.
Delian continued, "It would be a lie if I said that I didn't enjoy moments like these. But I need an answer now, so-"
Not even a second later, "Fine! Take the money! You-" Nikos stopped before he insulted the Leofric boy further. Surrendering, he said to one of his men, "Give Sir Leofric here the money so they can be on their way."
Delian stood and buttoned his jacket without breaking his gaze. "Pleasure doing business, Mr. Nikos. You and the boys may see more of me in the future." He extended his hand which was not reciprocated by the still-fuming Nikos.
Delian smiled softly and opened the door. Before leaving the room, he remarked, "Here's the difference between us. If you said the same thing to my men, they would've shot you before you could even finish that sentence. Because they have half a brain to know that the offer was bullshit. And loyalty is not just a word to them."
>>>
"You did well on the problem with Nikos." Hector Leofric said as he pour wine into his son's glass, "I heard he even added a few extra grand for the past money he stole."
"Yeah, I may have said something about percentages," Delian replied as he took a sniff of the red drink. "Chateau Lafite 1887? What's the occasion?" He asked while the maids served dinner for the three people at the dining table. He eyed his stepmother questioningly as the latter grimaced at Hector.
"Your consigliori, son. It's been decided. You're going to meet him soon since he just came home from deployment." And there it was. His life, now at the hands of the Council. Hector stated, "The Erinyes mafia was never manned solely by the Leofrics. We've always been assisted by the Council consisting of the other three families."
"More like controlled," Delian wanted to counter his father.
"You do realize that the families put their best foot forward to present candidates, right? So this person is possibly the finest among them." The heir's silence seemed enough for a satisfactory answer as he heard his father's soft "Hmm."
"The Council has provided you your right-hand man. All you need now is a wife, which they could also help you with." Hector observed his heir for any sign of defiance, but his son was good at hiding it.
"I'm aware," was all Delian could say for now. Being ambushed with this news definitely complicated things.
"Well, maybe Del here has a girlfriend. Why don't we consider that?" His stepmother chimed in. Delian glanced her way as she pried, waiting for him to answer. His father cleared his throat. "Maybe that would change things. Son," he said to get his attention, "do you have someone?" Delian wanted to say yes, just to see how the Council would react but decided it was not worth it.
"I don't." Delian turned towards Danae, the always-optimistic woman his father married for love. "Not everyone is as lucky as you two." If anyone was offended, they didn't show it since Danae just clasped her hands together as if making a wish. "Then let's hope you find her soon."
>>>
"I hope you wouldn't talk to her like that." Hector walked towards the mosaic windows of his office. "I know," was all Delian said, pouring his fourth one. Or maybe sixth, he didn't remember. "The Council was also the reason I met your mother," Hector paused to look at a portrait obscured by a sheer, black cloth, "and everyone knew that Latona was the perfect woman. I did love her, and in some ways, I still do."
Delian looked at the painting as well. Her kind smile still shone through the cover and it reminded him of how his childhood was: peaceful, bright, and hopeful. But now was not the time to reminisce.
"It doesn't matter who becomes my wife. I'm more concerned about who they picked as my right hand. I might have to be careful around him," he said jokingly. Time is wasted on caring about trivial things like marriage, he just hoped that whoever his consigliori would be won't hinder his future plans.
Hector looked at his son suspiciously then warned, "Don't challenge the Council, Delian. Your fight is not with them." Delian gripped his glass until his knuckles turned white. His coward of a father can never go against the Council, even if it meant hurting those around him.
Delian got sick of all of it: his father's gutless attitude, the all-too-imposing manor, and the endless waves of guards surrounding him. That's why he found himself, alone, sipping a five-dollar whiskey at Ambrosia.
If it were not for the military woman, he would have gone to the more sketchy pub, Styx, and gambled away whatever he had on him. There was just something about her that struck a chord with him. In a good way or a bad way, he wasn't sure.
The Leofric heir wanted to laugh at her reaction to seeing him. It wasn't out of fear or anger. Rather, her furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes only showed signs of shock, like she was caught, and maybe even annoyance that he talked to her.
His lips curled to a smirk as he watched the stranger carelessly chug a whole mug of beer. Wanting to poke a bit of fun, he pushed on, "Marines?" The woman, no older than 25, pulled her cap to her nose and nodded at him. How Delian wished she'd remove that cap. He wanted to see more of her expressive eyes. The way she regarded and looked at him made the mafia heir feel like a regular guy.
"You can just call me Del, by the way."
"You are?" He extended his hand, albeit groggily.
"Eirene." What a beautiful name.
>>>
After some kicks and punches exchanged, Delian soon found himself stepping on a motionless Swede. "You guys came in at a really terrible time," Delian tsked as he pressed his polished but now stained shoe deeper into the man's shoulder, making the latter groan in pain. "And there I was, talking to a lovely girl."
Despite the poorly-lit area outside, the dark liquid was evident on Delian's cheek. Blood, you'd think it was water collected in puddles and splashed around the area. "Now see what you've done. You dirtied my shirt," he complained.
"Do you understand what you did? You ruined what could've finally been a normal night for me," Delian fussed as he left the blond to catch up on his breath. Behind them was a large dumpster with the other barely leaning on it.
"Please. Nej, snälla," the man choked out. His limbs seemed all out of place with a foreign-looking gun glinting on the ground.
"Begging for your life, eh? Let me think." Delian looked up and held his chin, as if in deep thought. "This must be a punishment if Stockholm just let you come here like this: with no support, no plans. Your bosses don't just send anyone to assassinate me, especially those who can't kill an unarmed person." The Swede must have realized it too that he slumped his head on the concrete ground in utter defeat.
But before he could continue with his speech, the back door suddenly creaked as Rein screamed, "Watch out!" Right as the unattended Swede took a long wood from the dump and hit the back of Delian's head. "Dö, Leofric!"
The world started to spin around Delian as he fell to the concrete floor. He watched on as Eirene twisted the man's arm to his back and smoothly threw him into the dumpster. Only his right foot could be seen sticking out. "Wow, this girl's strong."
Eirene soon came to his side to check his injuries. "Are you crazy or just stupid?" She scolded him as her hand reached his head. Delian never imagined there could be something else softer and gentler than his silk feather pillows. Her warmth seemed more than enough to heal his wounds.
"Wait, you're mad?" He sounded perplexed. "I would have thought that by now, you'd call the badg-, the police on me." Since Eirene was a soldier, what happened back there should have prompted her to do something against him. Instead, she's heaving angrily, as if she was worried.
Wait, is she?
He soon felt something trickling down his temple and his mind blacking out. The pain was starting to be unbearable. But resisting the urge to sleep, he grabbed the woman's hand. It may be because of his alcohol-filled and concussed brain, but he really wanted to ask her, "By any chance, will you marry me?"
"Now I know you're really crazy, plus bleeding." She shook off his hold on her to support his weight.
Delian let out a quiet laugh. "Well, will you?"
Before he could hear her reply, a new voice boomed, "Man, you were supposed to befriend him, not kill him."
"I didn't, just help me get him up." Her concerned face blurred out as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.