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In a dimly lit, high-rise office in the heart of New York City, Rudransh Singh Rajput sat at the head of a long, polished mahogany table. The room was filled with a thick haze of cigar smoke, mingling with the scent of expensive cologne and leather
Rudransh leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes sharp and focused. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit, the fabric stretching over his broad shoulders. His presence commanded the room, and even the most hardened criminals could feel the weight of his power.
Around the table sat the heads of various underworld mafia teams, each representing a different country. There was Giovanni Russo, the ruthless leader of the Russian syndicate, known for his brutal tactics and unyielding ambition. Next to him was Akihiko Saito, the stoic and calculating head of the Japanese Yakuza, his face betraying no emotion. Across from them sat Carlos Mendoza, the volatile and unpredictable boss of the Mexican cartel, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table.
The tension in the room was palpable as each man sized up the others, but all eyes eventually returned to Rudransh. He was the one who held the ultimate power, the one who could make or break alliances with a single word.
In the same shadowy boardroom where power and influence collided, Vittorio stood at Rudransh's side, his posture rigid and attentive. Vittorio was a man of few words, a trusted lieutenant who had proven his loyalty to Rudransh time and time again. His sharp eyes scanned the room, ever watchful for any sign of treachery or deceit.
"Let's not waste time," Rudransh began, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made even the most hardened criminals sit a little straighter in their chairs. "We have pressing matters to discuss, and I have no patience for deception."
The room fell silent as everyone waited for him to continue. Rudransh leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "It has come to my attention that there is a traitor among us."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the group, but Rudransh silenced it with a single, piercing look. He wasn't a man to be questioned, especially not in his own domain.
"I have always valued loyalty above all else," he said, his voice growing colder. "But it seems that someone here has forgotten that."
Rudransh's gaze flicked to Vittorio, who stood by his side, as always, a silent guardian. Vittorio's face was a mask of controlled fury, his loyalty to Rudransh unshakeable. He had been with Rudransh long enough to know that when a betrayal occurred, retribution was inevitable.
With a barely perceptible nod from Rudransh, Vittorio moved toward a man seated near the middle of the table. It was Antonio Costa, the head of the South American cartel—a man known for his cunning and ruthlessness. But as Vittorio approached, Antonio's bravado began to crumble.
Vittorio stopped behind Antonio's chair, his shadow looming over the man like a specter. "Antonio here thought he could play both sides. We intercepted communications—he's been feeding information to our enemies, thinking he could profit from both ends."
Antonio sweated like waterfall. "I swear, it's a misunderstanding!" Antonio stammered, his voice shaking. "I was only—"
"Enough." Rudransh's voice cut through the air like a blade. "You betrayed me, Antonio. And there is only one punishment for betrayal."
With a swift motion, Vittorio grabbed Antonio by the collar, yanking him out of his chair and throwing him to the ground in front of Rudransh. Antonio's pleas for mercy echoed in the room, but they fell on deaf ears.
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