A Diplomatic Dance in Chicago
"Second Master, we are all working for the betterment of the Chinese people. While we may have taken different paths, our purpose is the same. Let's not harm our own while the enemies rejoice. It's not right for us to turn against one another," Charlie Lee said firmly, his tone unwavering as he addressed the middle-aged man before him.
The conversation between Charlie and the second master of the Mei family was entirely in Chinese, leaving Grant and Aria in the dark. While they didn't understand a word, they could sense the tension in the room. Charlie's expression had turned grim, and the once genial smile of the second master had disappeared.
"Charlie, are you all right?" Grant asked, setting his knife and fork down, his sharp gaze flickering toward the second master.
"Don't worry, Grant. We are compatriots," Charlie replied, waving dismissively with a polite smile.
"…Mr. Lee is right. As compatriots from the same homeland, it would indeed be wrong for us to fight among ourselves," the second master reluctantly conceded. His tone was heavy with emotion, his pride clearly wounded.
Despite the second master's title and influence as the patriarch of the Mei family and president of the Anliang Chamber of Commerce and Industry, he couldn't help but feel small in front of the younger man.
"The meal was excellent—a true taste of home," Charlie said, rising from his seat and shaking the empty wine jar. He left behind two $100 bills and his business card. "Second Master, if you ever need help while living abroad, don't hesitate to call me." Without waiting for a reply, Charlie turned and left.
As he stepped out into the cold Chicago night, the wind helped clear his slightly muddled thoughts. "This sorghum wine packs a punch," he muttered, thinking back on the nearly three pounds he had consumed during the meal.
Grant followed him out, his expression tinged with urgency. "Charlie, you didn't give me an answer earlier. Are you going to help me deal with Capone?"
"William will be back in two days. There will be a gathering, and you'll hear from me then," Charlie replied, his confidence unwavering even in his slightly drunken state.
"Thank you, Charlie. I'll be your most loyal friend," Grant said earnestly, his eagerness turning to deference.
"Grant, we've always been friends," Charlie assured him with a firm handshake before turning to Aria, who had been waiting silently nearby.
"Boss, should I escort you back?" Aria asked, her eyes lingering on him, her tone soft but suggestive.
"Walk with me," Charlie replied, letting the cold air invigorate him as they strolled through the quiet streets. His mind wandered to matters of finance. "Aria, is there a legitimate way to reduce my taxes?" he asked casually.
"Let's discuss it in private," Aria suggested, her voice dropping to a teasing tone, her gaze lingering on him boldly.
Charlie turned to her, immediately catching her meaning. Her flushed cheeks and inviting demeanor left no room for doubt. The rest of the night blurred as they made their way to the Palmer House by Hilton, a historic hotel as rich in stories as the city itself.
The next morning, Charlie woke to the sound of rain against the window. The overcast skies encouraged him to sleep longer than usual, a rare indulgence. He turned to see Aria still asleep beside him and sighed with a faint smile. "Italian women certainly live up to their reputation," he mused, carefully pulling his arm from under her.
After a cold shower to clear his head, Charlie called the front desk for breakfast. Seated by the window, he gazed out at the rain, reflecting on the twists and turns of the previous night.
When Aria finally woke, she stretched languidly and greeted him. "Didn't you get enough attention last night?" Charlie teased with a grin.
"Never enough," she replied with a playful smirk before heading to the bathroom. However, her next words stopped Charlie cold. "By the way, I have a family back in Italy."
He frowned, the lightness in the room dissipating. "A family?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Don't worry, Charlie," she said, her tone breezy. "This was just a moment between two adults. No strings attached."
Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "As long as you're happy," he muttered, though the revelation left him feeling oddly deflated.
Later that day, Charlie visited the newly renovated office of the Aegis Club, now transformed into the elite Shendun 22 Club. Under Ben's direction, the once modest establishment had become a hub for Chicago's power players, its second floor converted into private rooms for meetings and leisure.
As he walked through the building, Charlie felt a sense of pride and determination. The previous night's events faded into the background, replaced by thoughts of his future. He had no time for regrets. Charlie Lee was on a mission to carve his place among Chicago's elite, and nothing—not old rivalries nor fleeting entanglements—would stand in his way.