"Be careful, maybe go easy on the drinks?" A bartender spoke softly to a man dressed in black, who sat at the bar drinking his thirdĀ Angelo Azzuro of the night. The atmosphere inside was dark, musky, and reeked of cigar smoke and alcoholic sweat.Ā
"I told you, Jack. I'm not weak like everyone else inn this shithole. Another one." The man paused.
"Please," He mumbled while looking at a dirty spot in the counter, avoiding the bartender's gaze.
"Shit, fine, since you asked so nicely." Jack prepared another drink for the man, and soon placed it in front of him. The man stared at the bright blue cocktail, which reminded him of the clear blue sky he was under in Amalfi.
...
Waves crashed gently against the shore, the water coming and retreating, leaving the sand wet. Chairs were placed in even intervals, some occupied by tourists and locals drinking cocktails. On the opposite side were countless small buildings, crowded with no more than small alleys, save for one larger road just big enough for one car. The air smelled like seafood, fresh fruit, and the distinct smell of summer. Altough sunny, it was mild with a gentle breeze which rustled the leaves of various trees in the hills surrounding the city. A man lay atop an old white building, carefully surveying his surroundings as he waited for an opening, for the right moment. A group of men in black suits gathered by a restaurant near the shore, their conversation unintelligible. Merely seconds later a black 1954 Corvette pulled up and stopped some metres away from the group of men. Bingo. The car's doors opened, and as they did, the man atop the building aimed at the man who exited it. He waved at the others, his wrinkly face morphing into a fake, rich grin. That grin did not last.Ā Click. Down he went, his eyes widening, the other men gasping and looking around. The man on the roof ducked, and put his rifle in a case, before rolling to the other end of the building and descending down a ladder. He could still hear the astounded shouting of those men, who were making calls and frantically searching for the culprit.
...
"Earth to Antonio, hello?" The bartender waved a hand in front of the man's face.
"Something wrong big guy?" He chuckled, the man blinking and lifting his gaze. The bartender and the man's eyes met.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it." The man spoke, finally taking a sip of his drink.
"Just... got reminded of something is all." He did not meet the bartender's gaze again, who now tended to a new customer.
"Ballantine's neat, please." The man relaxed as he waited for the bartender to pour his drink. He glanced sideways at Antonio, with interest.
"Y'know, drinking your life away isn't the right path." He spoke in a thick Scottish accent, his voice low and dark. Antonio did not look at the man, and took a large sip of his cocktail instead. But the man did not look away, not even when the bartender gave him his drink. Antonio took a deep breath, looked down, and then lifted his head to look at the man, who was drinking his whiskey.Ā
"You don't know, man. You don't know why I'm here." Antonio sighed, correcting his posture.Ā
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure there are better was to spend your evenings lad." The man replied, a friendly smile appearing on his face. Antonio looked at him for a few second, before taking a slow sip of his drink, avoiding replying. Because he had no answer. He could not tell the man the truth. It was best that he thought Antonio was simply another drunk, drowning some worry or another. He finished his drink, and waved to the bartender.Ā
"That'll be enough for me. Thank you, jack." Antonio put a tired smile on his face, and got up.Ā
"I'll just use the restroom first." The bartender gave him a thumbs-up, and Antonio went behind the bar, meandering a table where two men sat playing card games and smoking. One of them glanced at Antonio, who kept a cold gaze and held eye contact as he slowed down. The other man also looked up, and in an instant his face showed nothing but true terror. His throat bobbed as he scratched his neck.Ā
Antonio motioned with one hand in his jacket pocket towards the door while keeping eye contact. The man glanced at his buddy, who quickly nodded. An annoyed sigh left his mouth as he stood up and walked towards the bar, paying for his last drink and leaving the place. Antonio turned his attention to the other man, who was now sitting alone, nervously smoking his cigar. Antonio sat in front of him, placing his hands on the table.Ā
"Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be." He searched for something in his other pocket, and the man suddenly started waving his hands.
"No no no, wait, please, hear me out" His voice was shaking, a drop of sweat rolling down his wrinkled forehead. Antonio held eye contact, pausing.
"I can explain, just- just hold on" The man choked while frantically trying to calm himself.
"I didn't mean to do it, I swear!" He rambled, but Antonio just stared.
"Didn't mean to do it? Didn't mean to put millions at risk? Didn't mean to take the homes of innocent people, including children?" His voice was low and calm, but his tone was dangerous. The man stared, his eyes widening, as if he knew there was no justifying his actions. This was a billionaire who, in his greed for money, made millions pay more for insurance than they should have. And when they tried to cancel it, it only increased due to a bug in the website. He closed each and every in-person office ust to make sure no one could cancel. Antonio pulled a small pill container out of his pocket, and held it between his index and middle finger. He dropped it in the man's drink, and crossed his arms as he leaned backwards.
"Drink."