Lord of the Mafia

In the gallery, cultured dialogues could be heard together with the sounds of clinking of champagne glasses. Nico stood in the middle of the room and he scanned the audience with the practiced ease of someone who had spent many years in the field of art. He was at home with these art pieces that he displayed with so much concern.

The show tonight was all about modern surrealism and more people attended than he actually thought. Enthusiasts, collectors, and critics had come to see odd yet beautiful items hanging on the walls. Though his thoughts were elsewhere, he still manages to offer polite smiles and brief conversations.

It has been two weeks since his father passed away in a tragic yet mysterious way. About it, Nico hardly say anything to anybody; his personal life had nothing to do with his professional life. His father, Anton, was a severe person who always looked mysterious and used to travel without explanation for business trips. The news about his abrupt death shocked him though it wasn't like he didn't anticipate such an incident occurring one day. Old Vasquez knew too many enemies – this fact wasn't hidden from anyone.

As the evening got old, Nico went to his office for some quiet time amidst the busy night. He took a glass of whiskey and sat on his desk as he looked at a letter that he had not opened. The letter came from Anton's attorney requesting him to attend a meeting concerning his father's property.

He sighed, running his fingers through dark hair. ''What hidden truths did you leave behind, dad?" he whispered as he then tore open the envelope. Inside were few words – time and venue for the meeting, and a couple more ambiguous words suggesting a far more complex inheritance that he would have ever dreamt of.

The next morning Nico was facing an intimidating office block downtown. He adjusted his necktie and inhaled heavily before he walked inside. The barrister, a certain Mr Sinclair, welcomed him with a strong handshake and serious face.

"Mr Vasquez, I am grateful that you have come," said Sinclair as he led Nico to a well-furnished office. "There are some important matters that were left by your father that we had to deal with"

Nico sat down opposite the lawyer and nodded. "What is this all about?"

Sinclair drew closer, cutting through his thin mask of professionalism with his eyes. "Your father was very influential, Mr Vasquez. He was the boss of a powerful syndicate which dominates majority of clandestine activities in this town."

Nico's heart skipped one beat. "You must be mistaken. My dad was not a criminal, he was an entrepreneur."

Mr. Sinclair moves his head slowly from side to side as if he wanted him to understand that it was true. "In certain quarters, Anton Vasquez had been referred to as "The Lord of the Mafia". Now, Mr. Vasquez, with the sudden death of your father that title is being handed over to you."

Nico felt as though the room were spinning around him. He had always known that his father was involved in some sort of dangerous activity but this was totally unexpected. "What am I supposed to do with this information?"

"Inside this, you will find everything necessary to comprehend your father's empire," Sinclair told him while handing over a thick envelope. "It is now yours Nico and whether you decide to embrace it or leave it all behind is a choice only you can make. But let me warn you, turning back may not be as easy as it may seem."

After a few more talk, Nico walked out of the office in confusion, feeling a huge burden on his shoulders from his newly gotten heritage. The city appeared different to him as he walked through its busy streets. It seemed to be darker and more hostile than before. He was aware of the fact that things would never be the same again for him.

Back at his apartment, Nico opened up the envelope with shaky hands. In there were proper records that had names and place ideas all pointing towards what constituted his father's many criminal activities and networks. Besides this, there were some letters written by Anton explaining why he did those things and which principles guided him throughout his life.

Nico spent the whole day from morning going through the documents in an attempt to unravel it. As dusk approached and the city began to light up outside his window, Nico realized that he was at a crossroads. He could easily carry on with his work as an art curator, putting all this behind him, or he could take over his father's position in the mob.

The first stars came out of hiding and Nico knew he couldn't run away from it. The responsibility was now upon him and he would have to find a way of reconciling those two worlds bequeathed unto him. Henceforth, an art curator will have to live along with what was he never requested for- A Lord of Mafia.

Clandestine meetings and whispering conversations characterized the following days. Nico was quick to learn that his father's holdings were expansive and spanned much further than the city limits. This included casinos in Macau, shipping routes through Mediterranean, as well as network of informers that spanned continents. Every information he discovered along the way helped him know more about his father and what he needed to do.

This new world could not be navigated by Nico alone. He needed allies whom he could rely on. His first move was to an old friend of the family, Enzo, who had been a close associate of his father. Enzo had seen it all before; he was shrewd with keen eye and a brain that missed nothing at all.

"I was looking forward to seeing you, Nico," Enzo said, shaking his hand firmly and smiling as if he had been expecting him. "Your father was an extraordinary man. He would have wanted you to be successful."

"Thank you Enzo, I need your help on this because I don't know where to start from." Nico felt the burden of his stupidity upon him.

Enzo nodded with a stern face. "Firstly, you need a meeting with the key players; they need to see that you are in charge now. It won't be easy but it must happen, there will be an event tonight at the old warehouse; I will take you there."

Nico nodded. Enzo is right, he needs to know who is he gonna work with. He had to let everyone know of his presence and that he is now the new boss.

"Would you mind if I ask something personal?" he asked. He leaned over his seat and stared at Enzo seemingly telling him to be honest of what he was about to ask.

"I do not mind at all" Enzo answered, his eyes holds the same intensity, piercing through Nico's being. It made him wonder if there are things Enzo are afraid of. A man like him looks like someone who doesn't have any fear.

Nico took a deep sighed. "How is my father as someone to you?"

Enzo was taken a back, he never expected the question. No one had ever ask his relationship with the deceased Vasquez. It was clear to everyone that Enzo strictly put personal things away from his professional works. Yet the question seems as though it was something he needs to answer, even if it feels like it's out of his own will.

Enzo took the deepest breath he could muster. His face turn stoic and serious. His eyes darkening as time passes. "Your father was never a good man," he started. Nico looked at him hardly. It was not an easy pill to swallow hearing someone badmouth your father even though you knew exactly that what they said was true. "But he keeps his words and promises" he added.

Enzo stood up as he walked towards the window and looked through the busy streets down him.

"He was never a good man but he was someone who easily earn people's loyalty and respect. He was never a good man because good man don't come to work with blood smeared on his work suit and blood dripping down his hand as he walked through the hallway of his company." he turned around and looked at Nico. He had a smile on his lips but to tell if it was a sad one is hard.

"How come i never knew about this?" Nico asked once more.

"As I've said, he earn people's loyalty and respect," he answered. "Which means they have to keep their mouth shut"

In the midst of others, faint applause of agreement and some people in the crowd nodding their heads politely. It was a thin sound that even came off like an oncoming thunderstorm rumble. Nico stood in front of them with a determined posture but felt weighed down by their eyes.

He looked around at the faces that made up this secret gathering. Marco was among them, his deep-set eyes were full of know-it-all expressions while crossed arms on his chest depicted guarded attentiveness. There is Luciana who has gray hair which is so hard as to be compared to steel, besides being cruel and just at the same time. She had an unreadable look in her narrowed-down eyes as if she wanted to measure Nico against something unspoken about him.

Carlos, who was a large and muscular individual with a scar that went down his cheek from battles he fought in long ago. Carlos's look was doubtful and his mouth closing to a thin line. There were vibes of doubt emanating from him which seemed like silent dare.

Then there is Rosa whose eyes are steadfast and supportive; she is a beacon of trustworthiness in the midst of confusion. She nodded slightly at him which Nico clung on as the waves of uneasiness hit him hard.

Cigar smoke filled the room accordingly accompanied by costly perfumes; all these mixing with dense, electrifying silence in the air. Nico could feel those who were there being historical figures and powerful people; something that his father has built piece after piece, deal after every other deal following a cruel dictatorship. Now it was up to him to take care of this inheritance.

As he exhaled deeply, his thoughts ran swiftly. He had an idea that expressions alone would not make them trust him. They are people who have seen empires rise and fall, with leaders coming and going always promising more than their predecessors did. They are survivors navigating through underworld dangerous waters for years.

Nico's voice, calm yet resolute, broke the silence. "I recognize the legacy I've inherited. My father built this empire with strength and vision, and I plan to honor that. However, I understand that respect isn't something given freely-it must be earned."

He paused to let his words sink in. "I don't expect your trust just because I am Anton's son. I know I must prove myself. I need to show you that I am capable of leading, making tough decisions, and protecting what we've built."

Marco's eyes narrowed further, a hint of doubt perhaps crossing his face. Luciana stayed impassive, her gaze unwavering. Carlos shifted slightly, his skepticism evident, but Nico noticed a spark of curiosity in him too. They were waiting, watching, judging every word and gesture.

Nico took a step forward, meeting each person's eyes in turn. "I am not my father. But I am his heir, and I've learned from him. I understand how important loyalty is, the need for strength, and the delicate balance we must keep. Together, we can keep thriving, expanding, and securing our place in this city and beyond."

He could feel their expectations, the tacit demand that he live up to the title he had inherited. His heart pumped, but he maintained a calm voice. "I ask for your patience, your guidance, and your support as I step into this role. I will not let you down."

The room was silent for a moment, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Then, slowly, Luciana nodded, a small but significant gesture. Marco's expression softened slightly, his arms uncrossing. Carlos grunted, a sound that might be grudging acceptance. Rosa's eyes shone with pride.

Approval was still thin and uncertain, but it was there, like a seed planted in healthy soil. Nico understood it would take time to mature into the respect and commitment that his father had demanded. But he was prepared to put in the effort, to prove himself worthy of the mantle he now carried.

Nico had a renewed sense of determination as he exited the warehouse that night, the cool air a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere within. The path ahead was laden with difficulties, but he was no longer trekking alone. He had made the first step in earning their respect, and he would continue to battle for it every day, decision by choice.

Nico had entered the room as Anton's son. He left it as the start of something greater-a budding leader prepared to establish his own niche in the Vasquez family's history.