Mafioso

And that evening, I met him. *

• "Drenched in blood" on his face. *

A warm autumn evening. The sun had left the horizon five hours ago, time was creeping towards night. A tall but narrow building. Exactly four floors for the pleasure of different groups of people. A banquet hall, in which quite a lot of people had gathered before the event. Various personalities - from stars to the elite, from the rich to the servants. The amber of alcohol and the aroma of women's perfume filled the halls.

• Among the alcoholic paradise - the bar, on a stool with long legs, Chance showed off. A spoiled boy. Glamour. Prestige. A huge fortune! His parents were the organizers of this mess. He sat, legs crossed, a glass of liqueur in the palm of his hand, which slowly rolled along the narrow walls. Shans was engaged in lively conversation with his acquaintances, who could hardly be called friends or comrades. Shans's true friend, Aitrapped, was sitting his beautiful and expensive ass far away.

*Aitrapped had distanced himself from Chance long ago, though he hardly noticed, too engrossed in the trembling of other nonsense. Isaac had settled comfortably on the corner sofa. There were practically no people around him; everything was soothing, completely quiet and peaceful. Various illustrations hung on the walls: panels, landscapes, a fresco. On the round table were various cushioned candles, dry napkins in geometric shapes—for example, Ait had swans. And spices with toothpicks. Everything as it should be, everything perfect.

Time was ticking. Soon, an interesting picture appeared before Isaac.

• Chance was approaching Aitrapped, but he was safely intercepted halfway by the Don. They call him "Mafioso." A couple of sighs and angry, fearful glances led to Chance being grabbed by the collar. Sonnellino wasn't being friendly; it seemed like he was boiling with rage, ready to explode! Don started demanding Chance return the "secret prize" from the scam that wasn't for him. Chance resisted like a harrow at a gate.