I'm not scared of you.

The deepest part of sleep was unknown to me. Growing up in a mafia household has that effects suppose Ever since I could remember, I had always slept with one eye open. My instincts always on edge for danger. Perhaps that is the reason that I jolt up and grab my gun from the nightstand, immediately getting out of the bed as I hold it up in my grasp and scan the room

But I find nothing. A sound makes me turn quickly as I point the gun in its direction, my sharp eyes narrowing at the bathroom door

Thear it again. A sound of suppressed sob it seerned. I sigh and lower the gun.

Then I look at the door again as the hushed whimpers continued.

I set the cup down after draining my usual herbal tea and rolled my cuffs as I sat in my personal office, the glass behind me looking out into the mansion gardens

I don't generally work from home. It is too much vibrant greenery and brightness for me to focus on work

I rub my forehead, waiting for the hot tea to settle in to get rid of this f*ck*ng headache, as I mutter next to Roberto

The man in his later fourties, my counselor and adviser, with square glasses on his nose stands before desk as he continues reciting the updates monotonously. He was my father's favorite when he my desk worked for him. Thus, never became mine. But at least he is more reliable and efficient in work than any other men here. So I have to keep him

"As you had ordered, I sent some men 2,648 hectare land, fertile enough to look over the land near the forest that you mentioned. It is a for our purpose with the river up close. But there looks up from the report. His face remaining the same, emotionless like a machine. years of life that I have lived with this man, I don't remember once if is a problem. He In my twenty seven I saw him with even a hint of smile. The man is a f*ck*ng robot. "There is a village nearby and they depend on this land for their livelihood purposes. Should we turn the land into a warehouse, they will lose too much."

"Do they have land ownership rights?" I mutter as I rifle through the documents scattered on my desk. tidy, unorganized I know. But ut that's how I have lived Untidy, all these years. I don't like rules, order, laws whatever you may call them. They bind oneself to the chains of a regular, predictable life. Which is too dangerous of a way of life in the world I live in. The shackles of rules suit them who don't have a constant possibility of someone coming from behind and stabbing your back. In my world, one needs to be as flexible as possible. Unpredictable at all costs.

"No, sir, Roberto says.

"Then proceed with the construction process there."

"But sir, if we do that all the people there might even lose their homes."

I stop as I listen to him. Steepling my fingers together on the desk 1 glanced up at him. Tm a business man, Roberto. If I care about some country people, who will care for the Smiths?" My eyes remain calm as I ask him

I raise my brows when he doesn't respond to me for over a minute.

"As your command, sir." He places his fist on his chest and turns on his heel, almost robotically, as he exits the office, probably to hire the construction contractors as I know, even though reluctant with my methods, he is fast with whatever task i assign him.

I sigh as I lean back in my chair. He probably wanted to say how different I am from my father. But he didn't, because he knows better.

Sometimes, his 'follow the book', stay in line attitude irks me. That's what made me lose control yesterday when he told me we should consider not killing that vermin Rodrigo Fernandez to wait for the Confederacy to be informed that the Fernandez family has broken the Confederacy laws.

Of course, it meant that we shouldn't take on a war with the Fernandez family by directly killing him, since Rodrigo was one b*st*rd child amongst the many step-brothers of the Fernandez head. However, the mention of the Confederacy boiled my blood, and I shot Rodrigo right through his head before even thinking of anything else.

He was working under me, but slowly hollowing to the Fernandez family. I didn't even f*ck*ng know the insides of my empire by giving away confidences he was a Fernandez until his identity slipped in front of some of my loyal men while he was drunk. I was in the middle of dealing with finding him when I had to come back to the mansion for a f*ck*ng wedding that the Confederacy set up for me.

Then at the altar it struck me that he could be hiding right under our noses so I ordered Samuel, my personal bodyguard d to send a search party to was hiding, that vermin Rodriga. all of our warehouses, and what do you know, there he

I open my laptop as I try to shake off that disgusting insect's face from my mind

A shot rings out. I spring to my feet instantly.

Samuet, a burly man with an overdeveloped physique, comes just as I exit the door of my office. "Just what the hell do I pay you for?!" I bark at him. "Who is the b*st*rd?"

Fermandez. He is waiting right in front of the mansion, sir

Oscar, that f*ck*r," I mutter as I stride fastly.

Outside, in front of the staircase to the foyer of my mansion, stands Oscar Fernandez. The head of Fernandez family. And my sworn enemy. The only reason I had let him live till now is because Fernandez family is in the Confederacy. But maybe not anymore-

I step forward as I take a gun from one of my men and aim it at him.

He spins around and raises his arms in mock surprise, a pistol dangling from one of his hands. 'Whoa. Is that how you greet your friend?" He chuckles.

"You're the one who dared to use a gun in my premises, right in front of my mansion," I hiss. "And I'm not your friend, you know it."

He steps closer until the guri's barrel is touching his forehead. There's that mad look in his eyes that I've seen many times when he enjoys murdering people. "You killed my brother, Elvish."

It was my turn to play games. I c*ck my head to one side. "Was he your brother? I just killed one of my men because he wasn't competent enough," I explain.

He sucks in a breath and begins guffawing. Then stops abruptly. "Let's talk over a drink, shall we?"

Now back to my office, I sit on my leather chair facing Fernandez, waiting for the f*ck*r to spout nonsense and keeping my disgust in check for me not to put a bullet in his head. Smiths never used weapons during verbal discussion. It's one of our rules. Again, a rule which I don't like to follow, but am obliged to.

"Oh, que buen lugar tienes!" He looks around while popping a snack in his mouth while he sits comfortably in one of my office chairs.

Translation:– Oh, che bel luogo che tu posiedi!

My nerves are literally waiting to tick. "Come to the business, Oscar. Unless you want to be dead igual que Rodrigo."

(Translation:-just like Rodrigo.)

His face turns to me and it is obvious my comment has made a remarkable impact as he glares at me. He shakes it away like he is not affected by my threat, which is indeed he is. "Alright. You want business? Let's talk business." He sits a little straighter as he places his hands on my desk. "I dont care about getting revenge or anything for Rodrigo. He was a fool, he'd have died anyway. So, about business; give me that deal with the Sicilian mafia. You know, that ammunition deal through which you get all those pretty guns of yours every year? I want that."

If it weren't against my character, I certainly would have laughed at that.

I sigh and press my lips together as if dealing with a child who is asking for the moon. Even though the deal between me and Oscar is already broken, I ask, "What will I get in return?"

"Sencillo." He gets up and walks around, moving to the glass wall behind me. "I won't tell the Confederacy about what you did to my brother."

(Translation:- Sencillo = Simple.)

I bow my head and shake it side to side.

He leaps from a side and puts his hand on the desk again. "Don't think I don't know even you are bound by the decisions of the Confederacy. If they find out you took the decision yourself

"Let's keep it short, Oscar." I straighten up as I interlace my fingers on the desk. "I will not give you the Sicilian deal. That's the conclusion. Take it as you will and get out of my place."

"Ha! Haha." He guffaws as though I have just cracked a joke as he walks to the glass again. "What made you so bold, Elvish? Is it the support you've been getting from the Confederacy lately, or is it the." He traces his fingers on the glass before coming to a stop at a point, his index taps. young lady right there?"

My brows furrow a millimeter as I think, what does he even mean, until I look along his line of sight and realized.

"Didn't think Confederacy would execute the role of Matchmaker with such excellence." He turns to me and his eyes have turned hungry. "You've got one beautiful wife, my friend. Some very good stuff there huh?"

My fists clench tight. I wish I hadn't left the gun outside the office. But I have to calm down. If I lose control now, there will be no point of return.

"Who bought all the stocks from you when your family was about to go bankrupt, Oscar?" I say, keeping my voice steady. "Who hid all your dirty little side businesses a secret from the Confederacy?"

I glance up at him. His face had turned colourless as he looks at me, taken aback by the sudden blow

"I'm not scared of you telling the Confederacy anything about me, I told him. "In fact I would say, go for it. Grab the golden opportunity. Just remember, it is you who has a lot more to lose than I do."