THE GHOST IN THE MIRROR

I remained in the car, waiting. After a minute or so the men outside returned back to their cars . 

The obvious explanation was that I was a Mafia crime Lord. A big surprise but it was more surprising these men didn't realize I wasn't who they though I was. 

For fuck sake, I'm just a sixty-five year old farmer who got murdered by his wife and best friend. I can't possibly be a Mafia boss. 

I had an entire white Mercedes Benz left for me while the others took the cars they came with.

Since I was still dumbstruck, Knife had given orders to have me driven back home. 

I noticed my men were scared or me as they bustled me into the car and rushed out into the highway.

The mafia. 

Leaning forward with my hands clasped to form a triangle, I took my time to evaluate the situation I'm in.

The mafia.

I've read a lot about them; even watched movies made about them. 

From my little knowledge about the Mafia, they're a criminal organization that makes money illegally, especially by threatening people and dealing in drugs. Most at times they have great control in politics and power. 

As the convoy raced for the countryside, I became immediately aware I was really in Las Vegas. I've been in Las Vegas many times while I was still a young adventurous man.

Our convoy was fast. It took us ten minutes before we arrived at my mansion. 

It was a more than a mansion. It was huge like something out of the Arabian night. 

My mansion had everything that a billionaire would ever be satisfied to own:  it's got it's own private beach and a boat crusier. The house itself was big owning dome-like rooftops that reminded me of a casino house. 

There were water fountains to greet us as we raced passed the big black iron gates followed by flower hedges pruned beautifully by the roadside. 

Infront of the house was it's own outdoor pool. I gaped at this luxury in wonder. This was money speaking. I've never seen anything like it. 

The convoy pulled up at the car shed and Knife hurriedly climbed down the other car to open the door for me. 

I stepped down and glanced everywhere. 

" Welcome home, boss," knife said, bowing his head slightly. 

I didn't say anything but I found myself walking towards the mansion. 

So this was the home of Giovanni Israel, the mafia don. I didn't kid myself I was Israel but being in his body made me felt like it. 

I was fascinated by the luxury as knife led me into the house. " Should I call the doc, boss? You don't seem to well."

" I that won't be necessary," I said. " I'd be in my room."

Knife nodded. " If you need anything, boss. I'll be outside."

He stood waiting, watching me expectantly as if he was waiting for more orders. One look at his eyes and I noticed how nervous he was of me as if he had committed a crime and was awaiting his punishment. 

I waved him away. " You can leave."

Knife was glad to leave, scratching the back of his ear. I was loving this. Imagine controlling a man like knife. 

Me, an old farmer with such power. How unreal. 

I remained where I stood, admiring the large living room like it was my first time. It was the largest living room I've ever seen, big enough to throw a party for two hundred people. 

" Israel darling, is that you?" Came a musical voice from the stairway. 

I glanced over my shoulder at the stairway and that's when I saw Irene. 

Irene was a shoulder length brunette. She was by far the hottest woman I've ever seen in my entire life, possessing big sized pair of bréasts and thick creamy thighs.

I guess Israel does like his women thick and heavily endowed. 

She wore a revealing see through dress that clearly showed what was underneath. It's safe to say she wasn't wearing any bra or undies neither. 

I gaped at her, my lips dry, my heart racing. A felt a pang of lust rush through my body. To me, she was something out of a Greek mythology. 

She has that promising looks in her eyes that can excite a man— any man. 

She had taken an extreme measure to apply make-up to her face. She seemed to have rushed the process. Her make-up was a little bit too much and yet she still looked attractive. 

The way I see it, someone must've tipped her I was arriving home and she had taken the necessary measure to present herself before me. 

Irene descended down the stairs with graceful light steps. She held my eyes as she approched me. 

I remained where I stood, my eyes on her joggling bréasts as she stood before me. I didn't know if I was coming or going. The only woman I've ever known or slept with was the very one who ganged up with my best friend to murder me. 

I've never been with another woman in my other life. 

Seeing Irene made me hot inside. If I wasn't getting a grip on myself, I would've blown my cover. I Instinctively remembered I was a Mafia boss. 

A Mafia boss doesn't get flustered by a woman. That would be laughable. I maintained my strong composure and remained silent. 

Irene then fell into my arms and began crying. 

I was stunned by this but to my surprise, I wasn't moved. 

Women are grandmasters at faking their tears and playing the victim. I hadn't spent twenty years in marriage with my wife to notice that. 

It was clear to me Irene was acting. Her tears looked real but I can tell they were fake. 

" Oh, my dear husband," she sobbed. " What happened to you? You have no idea how much I was worried about you. I thought you were already dead."

Husband? So this was Israel's wife. I hide a grin. The lucky bàstard. 

I don't know why but my sudden attraction for her vanished like a puff of smoke. It was as simple as that. The moment I realized she was playing some games on my mind at that instant, I decided to put her aside. 

" I'd be in my room?" I said sharply. " Accompany me."

Irene looked surprised at me. " Y-you're not mad at me?"

I had a vague feeling this woman had done something terrible to Israel. She had that guilty looks on her face. The look you make when you're caught in a lie. 

" My room," I repeated, suddenly uncomfortable with her. I want her to take me there cause I was new in this place. 

Irene took my arm and with that, she led me all the way up the stairs to my bedroom. 

We didn't say anything to each other and I noticed how fidgety she was. 

Israel must've been a terrifying lion in his household. Everyone seemed to be frightened of him. 

My room was big. Big enough to garage three trucks. The luxury was out of this world and nearly everything in it was controled by remote. 

" Let me stay with you, darling," Irene said. " Being far apart from you these past few days was traumatizing. I can't imagine my day without you."

I Wondered what Israel would have done if he were here right now. I later came to learn he was a violent man. He treated his women with a hard hand, always hitting and abusing them. 

He was also a man who enjoys validation from his women. After raging, he loves to see them beg for his attention.  

" I must be alone," I repeated, adding steel to my voice. " Leave."

Irene looked surprised I had dismissed her without raising my hands on her. Her lips quavered. " Does this means you've forgiven me?"

I was still puzzled what wrong she might've done to Israel. " Was there something you did?" I asked. 

She burst out crying again. " It was knife's fault, darling. Trust me I didn't mean to do it. I've always been loyal to you. Oh when you caught us in the act, I felt so ashamed of myself. I don't deserve you. Please don't kill me. Please I beg of you. I'll do anything."

I went over to the window and drew back the curtains so she wouldn't see the flush on my face. 

So knife was screwing the boss's wife. How sad for him. No wonder he looked the way he looked when I dismissed him. 

I mean it's alright if she cheats but why with knife. Knife was fat and dangerous looking but you never know with women. 

That gender can fúck anything as long as there's a motive behind it.   

It's obvious Israel had caught his wife and Knife in the act and had decided to postpone their punishment whenever he felt ready. The way I see it, this infidelity must've happened a day before I got reincarnated. 

A thought came to my mind. What would Israel had done if he were here and I wasn't? Knife seemed scared for his life but unlike Irene, he had guts. He was prepared to face Israel's wrath. 

Well, Irene wasn't my wife so it's no skin off my nose if she sleeps with anyone. 

" I'll see you later," I said. " You may go."

As quiet as a ghost, she left the bedroom, a puzzled look on her face. 

I was glad she left. My mind was preoccupied with many thoughts. One of those thoughts was centered on me. 

It still looked unreal to me. 

A Mafia boss. I could laugh about that but under the circumstances I can't. No this was no dream. It was real. 

Leaving the window, I hurried to the standing mirror and stared at it for a long time. 

The Man I saw reflected in the mirror wasn't me. It was Giovanni Israel. 

I stared at his reflection for a long time, admiring his sinfully attractiveness and the shrewdness in his eyes. 

" Well, Jericho," I said to Israel's charming reflection, forcing a smile. " You certainly have hit it big. Who would've thought you'd end up one day a Mafia boss."

Suddenly I stopped smiling. My eyes grew and my skin stiffened when I saw the unusual happened. 

My reflection was moving. It folded it's arm, glaring at me the way an angry bull glares at a red cloth. 

I took three steps backwards. " Wha-what's happening?"

I knew I was reflecting Israel's image on the mirror but the reflection moving with life on it's own sent a chill up my spine. 

" You must be Jericho Clay," the reflected image on the mirror spoke gravely. " I'm Giovanni Israel."

I opened my mouth and closed it, feeling blood leaving my face. " What?"