||ᴄʀɪᴍsᴏɴ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs|| ᴘᴏɴᴅᴘʜᴜᴡɪɴ ғғ

14

Days passed with Phuwin slipping back into his college life, teaming up with his partner-in-crime, Fourth, for mischief-filled adventures away from his father’s watchful eye. But sometimes, his mind wandered back to the mysterious mafia boss he’d met—the memories lingered, even though he couldn’t quite say why.

Meanwhile, Pond dove back into his world, occupied with mafia deals, strategies, and business. Tonight, he and Joe were headed to an annual party thrown by one of the oldest mafia families—an event where the elite mafias gathered from all over the world. It was the kind of gathering where alliances were made and rivalries grew. Joe was buzzing with excitement, eager to expand their network and cement their place in the underworld. Pond, on the other hand, remained calm, quietly amused by Joe’s energy.

They arrived at the massive, opulent hotel that set the stage for this lavish event. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the richly decorated ballroom, and suited guards stationed at every entrance kept a watchful eye. Joe and Pond moved through the crowd, occasionally stopping for a drink and engaging with other mafias.

As they mingled, an Italian mafia boss named Lorenzo entered the room. He was known for his powerful presence and cunning ways, and Joe’s eyes lit up. “There he is, Pond!” Joe said, eagerly dragging him over. “Lorenzo! This guy is a legend.”

Approaching Lorenzo, Joe introduced them, “Lorenzo! It’s an honor. We’re the Blackshadows leaders, and you’ve always been an inspiration for us.”

Lorenzo glanced over, his expression unimpressed. A mocking smile played on his lips as he looked Joe and Pond up and down, then chuckled dismissively. “You two... the ‘almighty Blackshadows’ everyone’s talking about?” He scoffed, leaning closer. “Listen, little boys, stay in your place. Don’t start thinking you can climb too high, or I’ll have to put you down like dogs.” He sneered and gave Joe’s shoulder a patronizing pat before walking away, laughing with his men.

Joe’s face flushed red, his hands clenched into fists as Lorenzo’s words echoed in his mind. “A dog...he called us dogs,” he muttered, grabbing another drink. “Said he’d shoot us like dogs, huh?”

Pond noticed Joe’s simmering anger and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Enough, Joe. He’s not worth it. Let’s go.”

Joe continued to mutter angrily, but Pond steered him out of the party and into the car. The drive back was tense, Joe replaying the insult over and over, his bitterness evident.

Once they reached their mansion, Pond led Joe inside. “Get some sleep, Joe. Don’t waste your energy on someone who only wants to drag us down.”

Joe, still grumbling, nodded and stumbled toward his room, casting one last angry glance as he disappeared down the hall. Pond sighed, shaking his head before heading to his own room, determined to find a way to keep their organization rising—no matter who tried to stand in their way.

The next morning came and went, and Joe hadn’t moved from his room. Still dressed in last night’s clothes, he sat slumped on the floor by his bed, nursing a half-empty bottle and muttering Lorenzo’s words under his breath like a broken record. Darkness cloaked the room; only a faint, narrow beam of sunlight streamed through the closed curtains, casting a dim glow over Joe’s disheveled form.

Pond had been out for the morning and, upon his return, asked the maids where Joe was. They looked concerned as they replied, “Sir Joe hasn’t left his room. He hasn’t had breakfast, and he hasn’t answered when we’ve checked on him. He only told us to leave him alone.”

With a sigh, Pond made his way up to Joe’s room, pushing the door open without knocking. The dimly lit space resembled a bunker, with Joe in the middle of it, lost in his thoughts. Pond approached him and, in a low voice, said, “Joe... Joe.”

Joe didn’t respond, his lips still moving as he mumbled to himself, “...he called us dogs... said he’d shoot us down... like dogs...”

Pond, undeterred, sat down beside him, voice calm but insistent. “Joe, leave it. Why are you still thinking about it again and again?” He leaned in, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “Just leave it. He’s not worth it. Just a dummy.”

Joe’s gaze finally shifted, his face twisted with anger and shame. “No, Pond. I can’t leave it like this. He hurt my pride. I have to do something… something.” His voice dropped, filled with a steely determination.

Pond raised an eyebrow, a sly smile crossing his face. “Joe, leave it.”

Joe blinked, taken aback by the tone and Pond’s subtle smirk. “Pond… you did something, didn’t you?”

Pond shrugged, still smirking. “What do you think?” He leaned back against the wall, eyes glinting with satisfaction. “You think he’d talk to you like that, and I’d just let him walk away? No one points fingers at you, let alone humiliates you. He’s going to have plenty of time to regret that little stunt.”

Joe’s face softened, eyes wide with surprise and gratitude as he began to laugh, tears glistening. “Yes, that’s my buddy! Pond, you don’t know if what you did was easy or not, but it means so much to me now.” His voice broke slightly as he leaned over, hugging Pond tightly. “You’re my best buddy.”

Pond chuckled, patting Joe on the back. “Alright, alright. Don’t go getting emotional on me now.” He pulled back, rolling his eyes playfully. “Just remember, Joe, don’t let clowns like Lorenzo get to you. We’re the Black Shadows. No one messes with us.”

Joe laughed harder, wiping away a stray tear. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll remember.”

Pond gave him a final pat, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, proud smile. “Good. Now get yourself cleaned up.  I have a surprise for you.”

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