2. Sweet Sunday

Santiago’s POV

The Next Day,

Amidst a terrible headache, I sat in my bedroom, clicking my pen up and down as I stared at my computer, attempting to decipher the file my consigliere had sent me. I grabbed the ibuprofen in the corner and swallowed it, and after thirty minutes, I felt better.

Everything I know is about the Mafia, its clandestine files, and the individuals hiding behind its high-ranking officials. My chief advisor warned me to be careful next time since they might dig a bullet in my back.

There has been an overwhelming desire to assassinate me ever since I assumed the role of Mafia King three weeks ago. The urge for power and greed is universal, but I will not allow anyone to take what is rightfully mine this time. I must be meticulous because I don't want things to return as they used to be.

I’m exhausted already.

I heard a knock on the door and I put my eye glass on the table and walked to the door to open the door. “Come in.”

I saw her again.

She wore a white polo