"State your name."

Upon arriving at the large gate leading to Mr. Brando's estate, a deep voice on the intercom said. 

Cracking my window just a hair to not let a lot of water in, I reply.

"Dominic Brown. I'm here to see Mr. Brando."

"One moment...okay, you're cleared to go."

"Alright. Thanks." 

With the creaking of the gate as it automatically opened, I rolled my window up and drove in. 

"No matter how many times I see it, his house never ceases to amaze me. Sigh, 25 million dollars was well spent."

Gazing out the window at the large mansion surrounded by guards carrying assault rifles, I said enviously. It had nine bedrooms, five full bathrooms, a swimming pool, a basketball court, and a yard large enough to have exquisite banquets.

He had a house many only could dream of.

Myself included.

Parking the car in the circular driveway, I hop out, retrieve the bookbag from the trunk and walk towards the mansion. Standing at the entrance were two menacing guards carrying assault rifles attached with red dot sights.

"Halt. Who're you?"

One of the guards said as stood in front of the door, blocking me from entering. The other one silently placed his finger on the trigger, ready to blast me at a moment's notice.

"I'm domi-"

"Let him pass. Mr. Brando is expecting him."

Before I could explain who I was and the reason as to why I was here, a voice coming from inside the house commanded. A few seconds later, I saw a middle-aged man in a grey suit approaching us with a cigarette in his mouth.

Seeing this man, the two guards quickly stop what they're doing and move out of the way.

Recognizing him, I smile and merrily said.

"Edward, long time no see! You're boss still treating you like a workhorse?"

"Heh, you have no idea. The amount of work I got to do is starting to give me grey hairs."

A little aggrieved, Edwardo touched his head and said sadly. Seeing him act like this, a light chuckle escaped from my mouth.

Edward Romano, this man is Mr. Brandon's second-in-command. 

Wherever you see Mr. Brando, Edward was usually behind him. He follows him like a shadow. The only time you’d ever see him away from Mr. Brando is when he’s out handling business.

"Come on, the boss is waiting for you."

"Lead the way. I'm right behind you."

Following in behind him I said. While we were walking towards where Mr. Brando was, I couldn’t help but take a look at the surroundings.

Marble floors, expensive chandeliers, antique paintings, and exotic animals mounted up on the walls…

“The family business must be booming?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah, it is. This year has been a good year for the family. Debts are getting paid, protection fees are getting paid on time, and that batch of cocaine we’ve got from the cartels are selling like hotcakes. Fiends love it. Mr. Brando is also thinking about venturing into other areas of the market, such as gun smuggling.”

“Gun smuggling? Isn’t that Lady Lora’s domain. Is she okay with him trying to encroach on her territory?”

“That’s why I talked him out of it. Lady Lora, like Mr. Brando, is a person who runs a crime organization, the Parabellum Syndicate. If we were to get on bad terms with them because of the boss’ impulsive actions, it might start a war. Just because we had one good year doesn’t necessarily mean the next year will be the same.”

Letting out a tired sigh, Edward said. At his words, I nodded in agreement. Like how a corporation has good years and bad years, a criminal organization can through the same thing as well. 

A gang war, however, is a different story.

Lady Lora runs the Parabellum Syndicate. 

And as for what they do, they smuggle weapons. From military-grade M4’s to old fashioned Ak-47’s, if something shoots a bullet, more times than not, they have it. Hell, if you feel like it, they can even get you an MK32 grenade launcher or a Javelin! It all boils down to how much you're willing to spend.

 If Mr. Brando was to start a war with the Parabellum Syndicate, there’s a chance that he’ll lose far more than winning. Don’t get me wrong though, Mr. Brando is a very powerful man. He’s the head of the Brando Family and also a part of the “big five.” But when compared to Lady Lora’s huge arsenal of weapons…

It’s a good thing Edward advised him against trying to go into the gun smuggling business otherwise...his victory would’ve been a pyrrhic one. 

“Hey, Dominic! How’ve you been? Take a seat, take a seat.”

Upon seeing me, a jovial grey-haired man pointed at a seat with a smile. He was sitting on his veranda watching the rainfall with a glass of wine in his hand and a plate of half-eaten food on the table. This man was Vito Brando, aka, Mr. Brando.

“I’ll pass on the seat. I got some dirt on me so I don’t want to get your white chair dirty.”

I said declining his offer for a seat. All his furniture in the veranda was a beige color so if I were to take a seat, it’d leave a dirt mark. I’m no furniture expert but I bet this furniture is expensive. 

Is it Fendi?

“So, is that matter handled?”

Sipping wine, Mr. Brando inquired. 

“Yes, the matter has been handled. However, I’m afraid this is what’s left.”

Taking the bookbag off, I handed it to him and said. Opening it, Mr. Brando dumped all its contents onto the table, showing us six stacks of bills worth $10k apiece.  

“Out of that $250,000, only $60,000 of it is left...Sigh, I understood that he was excited about the money but if he would’ve just waited and managed to develop the business into a chain, he could have been bringing in 10x more than this. Sigh, why’d he have to go spend it and then try to run away?”

Giving a lamentable sigh, Mr. Brando said. 

From what Mr. Brando told me before I took this job that $250,000 was supposed to go towards starting a laundromat which would then expand into a laundromat chain. It was to be used as a front for money laundering.

He chose Willy to oversee the development of the business since he knew from his other subordinates that Willy’s parents used to run a laundromat. He figured Willy might have some insight towards how to run it. But who would’ve thought that in the first two months of giving him the money, he’d blow half of it away. Instead of using the money to get equipment for the laundromat, such as washing machines and dryers, he’d use it on drugs and prostitutes.

Mr. Brando didn’t take offense to this at first since he thought that as long as he got the business started up, taking a little bit of the money for himself to have fun with would be alright. After all, once the business started, money would start rolling in.

However, when it became four months and the business still hadn’t shown signs of making a profit, Mr. Brando started to get pissed. So, he summoned Willy to his estate and gave him an ultimatum.

If the laundromat doesn’t make back the same amount that he’d spent, which was $190,000, within three months, then his ass is going to be pushing daisies. 

At this wake-up call, Willy decided that he needed to get his shit together. He stopped playing around with the money and tried his best to get the laundromat up and running. But sadly, it was too late for him. The amount of money he spent was so much that he only had enough to buy ten washing machines and four dryers.

This was nowhere near enough for him to reach his goal, especially when he was given only three months. As the deadline got closer, the more anxious Willy got until, one day, he had enough and tried to make a run for it. Mr. Brando caught word of this and sent goons to catch him but they lost track of him.

Then that’s where I came in. 

After asking around and using my sources, it didn’t take long for me to find him, probably around two days. He was hiding in a rundown, one-bedroom apartment in the slums. Once I found him, I called Mr. Brando and told him the location of where he was since it was my original reason for finding him in the first place. 

Then he suddenly told me to handle it. He wanted me to find the money and take out Willy

Because Mr. Brando was a family man and treated those who went into his family as close friends, he didn’t like having to kill them.

At first, I wasn’t going to agree because I had some things to handle back home but after hearing him say that he’ll double my pay, I agreed and hung up the phone. Then, without wasting time, I kicked down the door, grabbed Willy, beat him up a little before knocking him unconscious, and dragged him out. 

As for witnesses? I didn’t have to worry about them since most of them didn’t care. They were more worried about staying out of trouble than one of their neighbors getting kidnapped. 

Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches was the motto around there.

After putting Willy in the trunk, I then started to ransack his house to find the money. Mr. Brando said he didn’t spend it all so it should be hidden somewhere in the room. After about twenty minutes of searching, I managed to find it under a halfway closed floorboard. It was in a book bag. Taking the money, I locked the apartment door, walked out, and placed it in the trunk right along with the sleeping Willy. Then I drove a couple of miles past the outskirts of the city and into the woods.

And that was where I finished the job.

“Can you show me the pictures?”

Taking another sip of wine, Mr. Brando said. Giving him a nod, I took out my phone and sent him the photos. Once I was done, I deleted the ones on my phone. They were no longer useful and I’m not some psychopath who likes to collect morbid photos. 

“...At least it was a quick death. Thank you, Dominic. I know you had to push your schedule back a bit to do me this sudden favor.”

After using his phone to look at the photos of Willy’s dead body. Mr. Brando said with a sigh. Shaking my head, I say to him.

“Don’t worry about it. Most of the stuff I have to do are small things that I can do after I get back. Besides, you’re paying me double my original price. So it’s only right I do what my client says.”

“Haha, this is what makes you one of the best fixers in the city. Most of them are arrogant, cold-blooded, and usually try to pull one over on you and overcharge you. Saying that because of the change of plans they’ll have to do yada yada this and yada yada that. You on the other hand, although you can be cold-blooded at times, at least you’re generally friendly and don’t look down on people. Fuck, instead of you trying to up the price, it was me doing it.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

The reason I don’t act arrogantly is because that is one way to easily gather enemies. You can be confident in your skill, sure but if you start thinking you’re hot shit because of it and look down on everyone, it can eventually lead to your downfall. 

Another reason why I don’t act arrogantly is that it constricts your clientele base. No one wants to have an asshole helping you fix your sink nor do they want a person looking down on them just because they need help carrying groceries into their home.  

In my opinion, arrogance is bad for business.

Plus, it’s not in my nature to act arrogant. I find people like them a pain in the ass.

“Edward, did you already pay the man..”

“Yes, boss. He should be getting a notification right now about the bank transaction.”

As soon as he said that, my phone vibrated. Once again taking out my phone, I read the notification. It notified me that $15,000 was deposited into my bank account. Seeing this, a wide smile crept up onto my face. 

“Now that I’ve been paid, I’ll be on my way. I appreciate the business.”

“Aw, don’t be like that now. Come and sit here for a while. I’ve been dying to have someone to play chess with me. Edward here never wants to play with me.”

“That’s because I’ll beat you within no time, sir.”

“Let me win then if it’s like that.”

“No can do, sir. It’s bad enough I let you win at basketball. Chess is the only thing I can’t let you beat me in.”

“Tch, I was wondering why you always moved like an amateur whenever we played. It turns out that you were taking it easy on me.”

“That’s because you’re old sir. I don't want you to slip a disk or hurt your hip.”

“Old? Motherfucker, you're the one that's old I'm a spring chicken!”

“Haha, I’ll see my way out. I’ll see you guys later.”

Seeing those two playfully bicker at each other like old friends I left the veranda and said. Those two ignored me however as I heard Mr. Brando say, 'As soon as the rain eases up, let's have a basketball match one on one. I'll show you who's old!' 

"Dammit, I should've worn a coat if I knew it was going to rain like this."

Upon entering the car I said as I lamented my appearance. From the time it took me to get to the car from the entrance, I was completely drenched.

I didn't notice it earlier because I was watching it from the veranda but it was raining cats and dogs out here.

"Being this wet reminds me of the time when I was in the jungles of South America."

Cranking the car up and leaving the Brando residence, I reminisced of my time in the jungles. Wading through waist-deep waters, fighting and evading dangerous animals, taking out drug manufacturing plants…

"Those were some hellish times."

Staring at the swaying dog tags hanging on the rearview mirror, I say to myself.

Those times were one of the shittiest times of my life. 

"It's pushing past one o'clock in the morning...Sigh, I got work in a few hours."

Using my phone to check the time I said as I pulled into the garage I was renting. It was connected via a door to a cafe that went by the name of 'Modest Maiden.'

This was the place I worked and my residence was just above it. My boss lives there too with their family.

I would like to park my baby in the street since it'll save money, however, because 1970 Chevelle SS 454 LS6's are quite rare and collectible, it'd be stolen in a heartbeat.

The reason how I know this is because it was stolen once before. In less than an hour though, it was returned. Albeit, with a few blood stains on the bumper and doors.

That night, a whole chop shop operation was destroyed, leaving 14 dead.  This sent a message to all carjackers and chop shops in the immediate area.

Don't touch my car.

The other reason as to why I'll pay for this garage is because it's helping a certain person. It isn't much but if it could help their family even a little then I'm more than willing to pay.

After I parked the car, I took the shovel out from the trunk and placed it back on the garden tool organizer.

Hopefully, they won't notice that it's been used. When I was done with that, I grabbed my gun from the door holster and retrieved my suppressor from the glove box.

I'll put these back in the armory.

CRASH!

Just before I was about to enter Modest Maiden, I heard a sound coming from the alleyway beside the garage. It was faint due to the rain but I heard it.

"...Is someone trying to break in?"

This was my immediate thought as I reattached the suppressor onto my pistol. If it is, in order not to wake up the boss and their family, I'll handle this quickly. 

They won't hear the shots with all the rain and suppressor attached.

Leaving the garage via the garage door, I slowly close it, adopt the C.A.R. stance, and creep towards the alley stealthily.

When I got to the corner of the garage, I hugged it, raised my pistol, and mentally counted to three.

1…2...3…

The moment I finished counting, I moved from cover and entered the alleyway.

"..." 

I found nothing there except a knocked over trash can. However…

"A body?"

When I looked a little bit ahead, not too far away from the trash can, I saw the collapsed body of a girl.