SOLD TO THE MAFIA | SAILUBPON

CHAPTER 27

The day had been relentless for Sailub. From the moment he stepped into his office, the weight of the Pit Babe empire crashed down on him with an almost suffocating pressure.

The mafia world didn't give him room to breathe it only demanded more and more, day after day. Calls, meetings, deals, all the moving parts of his criminal empire constantly in motion.

He was used to it, but today felt different. Today, everything seemed to be on the edge of disaster.

He was in the middle of a tense meeting with his operations team when it happened. Sailub had always prided himself on being a calculated leader, unflappable even in the most chaotic moments.

But as his gaze swept over his team of men each of them looking nervous, barely meeting his eyes he felt the crack in his cool demeanor. His patience was thinning.

"You think I don't know what's going on?" Sailub's voice was dangerously calm, but it had an edge to it that made everyone in the room stiffen.

He was the kind of man who spoke softly, but his words could slice through steel.

One of the men the head of the supply chain department shifted nervously in his seat.

He'd made a critical mistake: shipments had been delayed, important connections had been disrupted, and now they were behind on an essential deal with another gang. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Do you understand the consequences of your incompetence?" Sailub asked, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing.

The room fell silent. No one dared to speak. Sailub's cold stare flicked over the men, all of them shrinking under his gaze, before he spoke again, his voice low and measured. "I don't tolerate failure. And I sure as hell don't tolerate disrespect."

The air in the room seemed to tighten, heavy with the unspoken fear. Sailub's reputation was built on precision, on control, on getting things done and if anyone crossed that line, they paid the price.

The threat was clear. The room seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone.

One of the younger members of the team, sweating and anxious, spoke up in a desperate attempt to explain. "Sailub, we-"

He was cut off by a sharp movement of Sailub's hand, a simple gesture, but one that sent a chill through everyone present. Sailub's expression remained unreadable, but his voice was a low growl. "Get. Out."

They scrambled to leave, all too eager to escape his fury. Sailub stood as they filed out, watching them go, his mind racing with anger, frustration, and an underlying sense of fear.

The mafia world wasn't a world of mistakes it was a world where mistakes got you killed.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Sailub stood there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle around him.

He felt his pulse still pounding in his ears, the rage that had been simmering beneath the surface slowly starting to fade into an eerie calm.

But as the door clicked shut, it wasn't the sense of closure he expected. No, it was the creeping realization that the weight of his world was starting to crack, and he couldn't control everything, no matter how hard he tried.

He let out a sharp breath and rubbed his temples. The stress of running a criminal empire, of managing his business, of keeping his enemies in check it was starting to erode his peace, piece by piece.

As he walked out of his office, his mind was still racing, consumed with the events of the day. He passed by his bodyguards, barely sparing them a glance.