In the five years since leaving the village, Alex had risen to become a powerful figure in the world of organized crime. His reputation as a ruthless and unforgiving mafia leader had grown, and he ruled with an iron fist, showing little mercy to those who crossed him.
One day, in his lavish office, a man stood trembling before Alex, pleading for his life. "Please, Alex, I beg of you. Spare me," the man pleaded, his voice filled with fear.
Alex's cold gaze bore into the man, his expression unreadable. "You betrayed me," he stated flatly, his tone devoid of emotion.
The man tried to explain, to justify his actions, but Alex remained unmoved. In a moment of cold calculation, Alex raised his gun and without a second thought, pulled the trigger, ending the man's life in an instant.
As the echoes of the gunshot faded, Alex's friend and right-hand man entered the office, his expression a mixture of concern and caution. "Alex, you need to show some mercy sometimes," his friend urged, knowing the consequences of crossing Alex's temper.
But Alex's anger simmered just beneath the surface, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. "Mercy is a luxury I can't afford," he retorted sharply, his voice tinged with a chilling finality.
His friend, recognizing the futility of arguing further, chose to step back, knowing that challenging Alex's decisions could have dire consequences. With a heavy heart, he resigned himself to the harsh reality of their world and the price of their chosen path.
In the silence that followed, Alex's office seemed to hold the weight of his ruthlessness, a stark reminder of the unforgiving nature of his world. Despite his friend's plea for mercy, Alex remained resolute, his resolve unyielding as he continued to navigate the dangerous waters of the criminal underworld.
In the corridors of power within the criminal underworld, Alex's reputation as a formidable and detached figure only grew stronger with time. His cold demeanor and ruthless decisions had earned him respect and fear in equal measure among his peers and adversaries.
One day, Alex's closest friend and confidant approached him with a request. "Alex, I think it's time you paid a visit to your stepmother," his friend suggested cautiously.
Alex, engrossed in his work, barely glanced up. "I have no interest in visiting her," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
His friend persisted, knowing the delicate nature of the situation. "But she's family, Alex. It wouldn't hurt to show some respect."
Alex's expression remained impassive as he dismissed the suggestion once again. "Family means nothing to me," he stated coldly, his words carrying the weight of his hardened heart.
His friend, though loyal and understanding, couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He had hoped that Alex would at least consider the idea of reconnecting with his stepmother, if only for appearances sake.
However, Alex's disdain for sentimentality and attachment to familial ties ran deep. His past had taught him that emotions were liabilities, vulnerabilities to be exploited in their line of work.
With a resigned nod, Alex's friend decided not to push the matter further. He understood that Alex's priorities lay elsewhere, in the pursuit of power and dominance within their world.
As Alex continued to orchestrate his plans and wield his influence with ruthless efficiency, the distant memory of family ties faded into the background, overshadowed by the cold reality of his chosen path.