The incessant pounding on the door rose Jaesung up late the next morning. Before he could even get out of bed, he heard his Halmeoni yelling from the other side of the house. It was virtually impossible to pick up what she was saying, as her Korean was quick and her words jumbled together. 

“I got it. I’ll get the door!” 

As he opened it, a familiar face greeted him, along with a puff of smoke that assaulted his senses.

“Does that cigarette ever leave your hand, Jett?” asked Jaesung. He fanned his hand as he shut the door. “Damn, that stinks like a rotting animal.”

“We all have our vices.” Jett blew smoke out, staring as it billowed up into the atmosphere. “Mine happen to be cigarettes and ladies, while yours are a little more…”

“Ok, I get it already. Are you going to tell me why you’re here at—” Jaesung glanced at his watch. “—at the ass crack of ten. Don’t you know what sleeping in is?”

Jett ignored his question, another whiff of cigarette smoke finding its way to his face like a magnet. “How are your grandparents?”

He crinkled his eyes, annoyed. “Just peachy. So, are we going to dance around this topic all day or?”

A low laugh left Jett’s lips. He flicked his smoke to the ground, the sleeves on his arms riding up to show the intricate orange and yellow tiger circled by dark gray and black swirls. While tattoos were a prominent figure in the mafia world, Jaesung didn’t see himself ever getting one. To be honest, he was a wimp with pain. 

“Alright, I’m heading back to bed.” Jaesung let his middle finger fly before leaving to open the front door.

“Ok, ok. I get it.” Jett’s firm grip on his shoulders stopped him.

“And?”

“Did you forget we have that meeting at the main house today? I came to collect you, sleeping beauty. We’re going to be late if we don’t leave shortly, and you know how Boss gets if we’re anything but on time.”

Yeah, how could he? As the idiot who was always running behind, he got an earful more than once. You’d think a few fists to the face would keep one on the track of righteousness, but it had the opposite effect. Jaesung wouldn’t be Jaesung if he showed up any earlier than thirty minutes late. 

“What’s the big deal with this group jerk-off, anyway?” asked Jaesung. He couldn’t recall he last time dear ol’ Vinny forced them to attend. The stuffy air of the main house was stifling. 

“If only they told peons like us the details.” Jett shrugged. “Anyhow, as a warning for a newbie like you, don’t make an ass of yourself. They’re nothing like our minor family. One wrong word, or look, and we may never see you again. Got it, kid?”

“Of course, dad. Whatever you say.” He knew Jett was only trying to prepare him, but the eye roll came on, regardless. Still, he’d be lying if he wasn’t sweating, scared shitless at the prospect of facing the big boys in the main family. 

Well, as they say, fake it till you make it.

The afternoon sun blazed high into the sky by the time they arrived at the main house. A shiny black gate towered above them with an older, gothic style building standing behind it. Two men in pristine gray suits stood at the gate, arms folded. Similar tattoos to Jetts peeked out from under their sleeves.

Jaesung’s heart pounded against his ribcage. This was it. This was the real deal.

Being here with all the big shots made his jaw tense. Now they had the chance to do something bigger than the minor jobs his group had been stuck doing in the past. Maybe they’d finally earned the main family’s trust to get in on a major job.

“Come on,” said Jett. “Everyone is already inside.”