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𝔸ℕℕ𝔸𝔹𝔼𝕃𝕃𝔼 carried on reading her book before the sound of loud footsteps approached the bar room. The door swung open, revealing Frank with a nervous look on his face. He quickly strutted to his coat and began putting it on. "Yo, what's going on, bagman?" Dean called out, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
Frank, his tone urgent, replied, "I'm leaving." He grabbed his bag, causing everyone to turn and pay attention.
Annabelle, confused, closed her book and asked, "What?"
Frank cut her off sharply, "You heard me. You cut up my share however you want. I'm out." His urgency was palpable as he tried to make his way out of the room. Annabelle quickly got up and followed him, calling out, "What happened? Hey! You can't just leave without telling us what's going on." She reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. The rest of the group followed, their faces a mix of confusion and worry.
Frank, exasperated, spun around and exclaimed, "What's going on? What's going on is that we are fucked. Your little boyfriend up there is Kristof Lazaar's son."
Annabelle's eyes widened in shock, the name striking a chord deep within her. Before she could process it, Don let out a low whistle, "Shit."
Sammy, still confused, asked, "Who's Kristof Lazaar?"
Frank turned to her with incredulity, "Who's Lazaar?"
Dean, sounding more stoned than usual, interjected, "Bruh, that's an urban legend, man. Calm down."
Annabelle, her mind racing, looked down for a moment before speaking, "He's not an urban legend. He is real and very powerful. Nobody even knows how big his empire is."
The group turned to her, confused by her sudden expertise. Seeing their looks, Annabelle pulled out the book she had been reading and held it up, "I like to read." She smiled faintly. Sammy, her curiosity piqued, asked, "So he's, like, a crime boss?" Annabelle nodded, "He controls a lot more than just crime. His reach extends into politics, business, everything. He's dangerous, and if Gabriel is his son, we're in deep trouble."
Don rubbed his temples and commented, "Is Lambert fucking insane? He just put a death mark on all of us. Including himself." Sammy, trying to come up with a solution, suggested, "What if we just, like, you know, give him back and say sorry?" Annabelle shook her head, but before she could respond, Frank jumped in with a sarcastic comment, "Oh, yeah. 'Here's your son, Mr. fucking Antichrist. We're really sorry. Hope he's not too traumatized. Let's play a round of golf sometime.'" Sammy, clearly annoyed with Frank, snapped back, "Fuck you, Frank."
