"Where is my son?" Silas asked as he crushed his cigarette into the ashtray, which was already full.
He had smoked an entire pack after hearing the news of what his son had done.
"He's on his way here." Laszlo the underboss of the family said.
Silas didn't respond immediately. He simply closed his eyes, trying to relax, but his mind was already running through the possible scenarios of what would happen next.
"I think James is mad..."
"Mad?" Silas looked up at him. "I've said it a hundred fucking times, we stay still, we don't do anything." He got up from his seat. "And my fucking idiot son stole from him, when his brother just died?!" He shouted, slamming his fist into the table.
Laszlo remained silent, more concerned about Silas's health. His watch, which monitored his heart rate, was beeping rapidly.
"This shit too." Silas muttered, turning it off. "I already half in the coffin, and my son just fucking threw dirt on me."
He pulled some kind of medication from his pocket, swallowing it. His hand trembled slightly as he put the bottle away. "What about our alliance?"
Laszlo lowered his gaze to the ground, hesitation written all over his face.
"Say it. You don't need to hold back, you've been with me for years."
"When I told Damien Montoya, he laughed and said, 'If James comes, I will kneel before him.' And Dante Castillo…" He hesitated before continuing, "Dante panicked. He told me, 'Put a leash on Silas son or put him down before he burns your family to the ground.'"
Silas closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the weight of those words.
"So that's it, then. Even they won't stand with us against James."
Laszlo didn't respond. There was nothing to say.
Silas let out a bitter chuckle. "My own son just made us untouchable, not because they fear us, but because they don't want to be anywhere near us when James comes.."
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if he could see something beyond the plaster and wood.
"You know, Laszlo… I wasn't always ." He said. "Once, I was just some dumb kid running errands for my old man. Cleaning blood off the floor, carrying messages, making myself useful. Back then, you had to earn your place.."
"Hard to imagine you as some errand boy."
"Yeah, well, I had no choice. My father wasn't exactly a patient man. He had this way of looking at you, like you were already a disappointment, even before you opened your mouth." He exhaled sharply. "One time, I fucked up an exchange. Brought the wrong amount of cash.My old man found out, and you know what he did?"
Laszlo shook his head.
"He made me strip down to my underwear and walk six blocks back home like that. Said if I wanted to act like an idiot, I might as well look the part." Silas chuckled bitterly. "I was thirteen, humiliated as hell, but I learned my lesson."
Laszlo sighed. "Old school discipline, huh?"
"Old-school?" Silas smirked. "That's just what they called abuse before we had a fancy word for it." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "But you know the funny part? I still tried to make him proud. No matter how many times he knocked me down, I kept trying. Because back then, your family name meant something. It was everything."
Laszlo nodded slowly. "Yeah… people had loyalty back then."
"Loyalty?" He shook his head. "Loyalty was just fear dressed up in a nice suit. The moment you showed weakness, they turned on you." He grabbed another cigarette, but instead of lighting it, he just rolled it between his fingers. "I had friends, brothers, men I trusted with my life. Half of them are dead, the other half in prison."
Laszlo stayed silent.
Silas sighed. "Have you ever thought about that, Laszlo? How many people you called 'brother' who ended up turning on you?"
"More times than I care to admit."
"And now my own fucking son my blood fucks up everything I've built." He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Decades, Laszlo. Decades of making the right moves, keeping the right people close, knowing when to fight and when to back down."
Laszlo watched him carefully, unsure if he should speak. Silas was a man who had seen everything, survived everything, but this, this was different.
Silas leaned forward, tapping the cigarette against the table. "You know, I didn't hand this life to him. I made sure he had choices. I didn't force him into this world like my father did to me. But no…he wanted in. He wanted power, money, and respect. Thought it'd come easy because he had my name." He exhaled sharply. "But respect isn't fucking inherited. You earn it, same way you earn fear, through blood and sweat."
Laszlo hesitated before speaking. "Maybe he thought he could prove himself. Maybe he thought taking risks would make him—"
Silas slammed his fist against the table. "That's the problem! He acted like some reckless street punk instead of a man who understands the rules!" His breath was heavy, his fingers tightening into a fist. "He didn't just put himself in danger,he put me, the family, everything I built on the fucking line."
Laszlo stayed quiet, because it was the truth.
"You know what's worse? I ain't even mad that he made a mistake. We've all made mistakes. But this wasn't just stupidity,it was selfishness." His eyes darkened. "And selfishness gets people killed."
Laszlo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So what now?"
Silas didn't answer right away. He just sat there, staring at the cigarette in his hand like he was debating whether to light it or crush it.
"Now? Now, I decide whether to save my son or—
A sharp knock echoed through the room.
Laszlo pulled the door open.
Aubrey, stepped in with a grin, not even a flicker of regret. No, he was proud of himself.
"What's with the serious faces? Don't look at me like that." He said, waving a hand at Laszlo as he stepped inside. Then, with a cocky smirk, he turned to Silas. "What's up, Dad?"
The watch spoke instead beeping again.
Aubrey gestured at it. "You don't wanna turn that off?"
Meanwhile, Laszlo stepped behind Aubrey, moving just enough for him to finally realize something was off.
Silas reached over and turned off the watch once again. Then, in the quietest voice Aubrey had ever heard from him, he spoke.
"What did you do, son?"
"Come on, you should be proud. I took an opportunity and made something out of it." He spread his arms, like he expected applause. "One hour, and I made millions."
"And what, exactly, did you sell?"
Aubrey waved a hand. "Just a shipment."
Laszlo's entire body went stiff.
"What shipments, Aubrey?"
"One of Jamas Bellini's shipments."
"You didn't just steal from him, did you?" Laszlo's voice came from behind him.
Silas leaned forward. "What did you do?"
"The guys didn't want to hand it over, so…" His smirk returned. "I made sure they did."
"You are a disgrace." Silas said.
Aubrey went silent, then shook his head and laughed.
"You are the disgrace father…grandpa built all of this and you are fucking scared of a guy in his twenties! Why the fuck are we acting like he's the man, the myth, the legend?" He looked at his father. "You've been in this world for decades, and you're fucking pissing yourself over a college dropout?"
Laszlo wanted to move or say something but Silas held his hand up, looking straight into Aubrey's eyes.
"A college dropout…" He repeated. "In one year, that 'punk' killed more people than I have in sixty fucking years."
"And you? You think you can just take from him? Just walk away after killing his men?" His voice dropped lower. "Do you even know who bows to him?"
Laszlo's fingers twitched behind Aubrey, but he didn't say a word.
"Augustus Lucian knelt before him." Silas's voice rose, his hand slamming into the table."That fucking madman knelt before James!" His watch beeped again, but he ignored it."My own fucking son, just threw everything I built into the fire."
Aubrey opened his mouth, but Silas cut him off.
"There's no apologizing, Aubrey. No fixing this. No deal, no plea, no mercy." His jaw clenched. "Because James Bellini doesn't forgive!"
"He's just a fucking nobody! Why the fuck can't you realize it?!" Aubrey shouted. "Augustus Lucian is dead! He died in a fucking prison! His name means nothing anymore!"
Silas exhaled slowly, but Aubrey kept going.
"And that bullshit about him kneeling? No one even knows if it's true! And even if it is, he's twenty four or how the fuck old is he!".
He stepped closer to the table, hands flat against it.
"Damien Montoya and Castillo are with us!" He continued. "We can crush him! We can show him who we are! Who really rules this country!"
The room fell into a heavy silence.
A real, genuine laugh.