Failure is not an option

Haloquin

If someone asked why I accepted Don's offer, the answer would be simple: it lets me keep a close eye on both of my enemies, and I'm following my father's orders. For some reason, he thinks it's better if I'm closer to the man who would do anything to see him six feet under.

He didn't ask how I felt about any of this.

It was 8:30 a.m., and I sat in the back seat of the car heading to Don's estate. He requested a meeting. I'd see Jokel again soon. Not that I wanted to. Truthfully, I couldn't stand him, that self-assured jerk. And yet, whenever he was near, I never acted like myself. I'd convinced myself his presence no longer affected me, but that was a lie.

Looking out the tinted window, the passing scenery blurred while my mind churned. I'm strong, I repeated to myself, but I knew it wasn't true. I was nothing like my father, barely even a shadow of him. I was just a ticking time bomb, exactly what my uncles had always said. They were just waiting for me to fail so they could tell my father, "We told you so—a kid in his twenties could never run one of the largest crime organizations in the country."

There were times I wanted to fail just to escape this life. But that wasn't an option. My father's legacy had to go on, and I was the only one left to carry it forward now that he was at his weakest. My jaw tightened, gaze fixed ahead. Failure is not an option.

A few minutes later, we arrived at Don's residence, a sprawling, heavily guarded compound with patrols at every corner. My security team's vehicles were searched, though mine was spared. I hated this life—constantly looking over my shoulder because we had too many enemies.

I stepped out of the SUV, squinting against the brightness of the cool morning sun. As I reached for my sunglasses, a familiar figure caught my eye. Jokel had just stepped out of his car. Our eyes locked, my heart sinking as I faced the person who knew my every weakness.

His intense gaze held mine, dark and captivating as always, glinting in the sunlight. He wore a fitted black silk shirt that molded to his frame, paired with tailored trousers and polished shoes. He looked… perfect. For a moment, I was caught up in his presence, but he broke our gaze with a scowl and walked off without a word. Not that I needed one.

Jokel and I were led to Don's private office without our guards , buried deep underground. The silence between us was as heavy as ever as we walked. Jokel seemed tense, but then again, he was always simmering.

The Don sat waiting in a cushioned chair, a broad grin splitting his face as we entered. "Welcome, brothers. I'm glad you accepted my invitation," he said.

Neither Jokel nor I responded; we only bowed our heads and took seats opposite each other, our attention fully on the Don.

Don gestured toward a silver tray on a small table near him, laden with an assortment of beverages—crystal tumblers filled with amber liquid, delicate porcelain cups, steam curling from freshly brewed tea. "A drink?" he asked, his voice smooth, almost hospitable.

Neither Jokel nor I responded immediately. It was an invitation, a formality more than anything, one we didn't need to answer. The silence that followed seemed to satisfy him, and he gave a faint smile, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looked between us. It was as if he enjoyed watching us stew in the uncertainty.

"Suit yourselves," he murmured, taking a sip from his cup of tea. "I didn't call you both here to waste your time. I believe the Lord has provided a way for us to deal with our pest problem."

I glanced at Jokel, noting the hint of a scoff he fought to hide. Don's false obsession with religion was beyond disgusting. Jokel kept his eyes trained on Don as he continued.

"In Mailone, a meeting of lords has been arranged. It's a yearly summit, one that all lords must attend—except those currently at war, like myself and Keeho. We send representatives instead. But the main reason I want you two to go is because Mailone is Keeho's home." His eyes flicked to Jokel, then back to me, measuring our reactions. "I need you two not only to represent me but also to work together to find the Lord of the Sky, wherever he's hiding."

Hearing the word "together" sent a prickle of tension up my spine. It was no secret that this alliance was forced, but hearing it brought to life was a bit overwhelming.

Jokel's lips twitched as he broke the silence. "So you're not only sending us into the wolves' den as diplomats but also asking us to risk our lives?"

Don Giovanni chuckled, leaning forward. "Not your deaths, my boy, but your salvation. I know you both wish to understand what it would mean to be lords. And it's easier than you think, but before I grant you what you desire, you must first help me win. You'll need to do what you both do best—hunt. Uncover his plans and locate his stronghold."

I tensed, my fingers curling into the arms of the chair. This mission was dangerous, but that was exactly why Don needed us. Going into the home of a rival lord and infiltrating his territory on such short notice? It felt more like a trap than a mission, yet I couldn't refuse.

Don thinks I don't know the truth. If a lord kills another, he can claim that lord's title. And with Don's protection, I could eliminate the Lord of the Sky, then take out Don himself to claim both positions. Imagine the power I'd hold as lord of both sky and sea.

As for Jokel, I'd make use of him until the end. Sharing power wasn't part of my plan. Working together was already testing me—he was nothing more than a stepping stone to my success.

After a long pause, I gave a slight nod. "Fine. I'll go to Mailone."

Jokel, lost in his own thoughts with a reluctant look in his eyes, finally nodded as well. "I'll do what's needed."

Don Giovanni's eyes lingered on us, a small smile playing at his lips. "Don't forget—this isn't a solo mission. You must work together."

I glanced at Jokel, and he grimaced, though his gaze didn't waver from mine. "You heard the old man. Looks like you'll have to be my bitch again."