A Crack In The Armor

Leaving the hospital building, Stephen

drove his Mercedes Benz to his friend, a

godfather but a brutal mafia like him who

is involved not only in loansharking but

also in slave trading.

Stephen pulled into the parking lot, the gleam of his Mercedes Benz catching the eye of the burly security guards stationed at the entrance. They nodded in

recognition, familiar with the luxury vehicle and it's owner.

Stephen stepped out, his long strides carrying him towards the building's entrance.

Inside, the dimly lit lobby was a hub of activity, the sound of clinking glasses, and muted laughter filling the air.

Stephen made his way to the elevator, hisneyes scanning the room with a practiced air of superiority. He knew this place like the back of his hand, had spent countless nights indulging in the vices offered within it's walls.

The elevator doors slid open, and Stephen

stepped into the luxurious office of

Stanley, his friend and fellow godfather.