“How long are you willing to chill before you get it?” the mafia executive growled.
The mafia boss continued to wipe the blood off of his knife, ignoring the executive.
“You have got to be kidding me,” the executive muttered. “You can’t hide behind your facade forever.”
Without stopping what he was doing, the mafia boss looked at the executive. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He knew exactly what the executive was getting at, but he had a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t let that reputation be ruined, it would end his career. But then again, what else did he have?
He closed his knife and slipped it back into his pocket, ready for the next job.
It wasn’t that the boss enjoyed killing people, but it didn’t really bother him. He never had strong morals, even before taking this job. His mentor, the boss’ role model, had been a good person, despite working in the mafia. His deeds almost made the boss want to be a better person. Almost.
“Listen, I know this job bothers you. More than you want to let on,” the executive said, his tone shifting. It was a tone that the boss didn’t recognize immediately. The last person to speak this kindly to him was his mentor, and even then he had been dead for years. The boss turned to walk away from the alleyway where they had completed their job. “You can’t keep doing this forever, you know.”
“I’m not going to,” the boss snapped. “I’m leaving soon.”
The boss stopped in his tracks. He didn’t mean for it to slip out. He was supposed to slip away without anyone noticing.
“What do you mean, ‘leaving soon’? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” the mafia executive shouted, clearly distressed.
“I’m done. I’m going to work with the detective agency. I can’t do this anymore. I need to be a better person.”
“You- you know you can’t do that! You know the president will track you down. He doesn’t let anyone leave the mafia, especially someone with as much rank as you-”
“I want to fulfill my mentor’s dying wish. He wanted me to help people. That’s what I’m going to do.”
The executive fell silent. He knew how much that meant to the boss. In fact, he knew more about the boss than he let on. They had been partners since they were fifteen. They always had each other’s backs, fighting side by side. But things changed as the years progressed. The boss had moved through the ranks very quickly, making himself useful to the president. He was given his own mentor, and when that mentor died, was assigned an apprentice of his own. The executive could do nothing but support his partner as he moved through the ranks. As his partner slowly but surely moved away from him.
“What about your apprentice? What’s gonna happen to him?” the executive said, grasping at straws.
“My mentor died around the same age, and I turned out fine.”
“Dying is not the same as just up and leaving. And you know he looks up to you.”
“I don’t care,” the boss said, trying to end the conversation.
“Then you won’t become a better person. Leaving others behind to deal with the damage you caused is not fixing anything,” the executive pressed. “Why do you care more about one dead man than the many living men who depend on you?”
“Look, I’ve made up my mind. This is the best I can do for my mentor. I don’t care if this hurts you, or my apprentice, or anyone else. I need to do this for him,” the boss said with finality.
He knew that once the boss had made up his mind there was no stopping him. And it’s not like the executive wanted to seem desperate. That was a sign of weakness, which is absolutely not tolerated in the mafia. The only thing he could do now was let his partner go.
“I know I can’t stop you then.”