~•~
Damien Solas
These past few days had been hectic. There was so much going on in the mafia that I can barely sleep a wink. It is currently Sunday now which means I have to go back to New York before the clock strikes to six in the evening.
"Capo, your luggage is already in the jet. We will be leaving in a few minutes." I nodded at the man stiffly and went inside.
I picked the seat that is beside the window and sat down. Smoking had been a habit of mine since I was fifteen years old. The age seems young and you may picture it as an innocent boy but it's far from that. When I was five years old, I've been taught on how to use guns and knives. When I was at the age of ten, I have killed my first innocent person that scarred me for life but not until I got used to it. Blood gives me pleasure. Screams of helplessness gives me pleasure. Call me insane but that's what I am. I have been taught for a reason and I plan to use them. And now, they don't call me ruthless for nothing. They call me ruthless for everything I have done. I am a monster that does not show mercy when one is being tortured or if someone is begging for their lives. I accepted the fact that I am indeed a monster, there's no denying that. Not even my own mother. Weakness is not my thing. I don't show any. You want to know why?
Showing weakness gives the enemy the advantage of killing you. When you're in a battle, you are already dead if you don't learn anything that will make you fearless.
Anger is done by smoking and that is what I am exactly doing right now.
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"Capo! Someone is firing from an advantage distance!" One of my men yelled from the pilot room. I stayed emotionless and made my way to where Gerald is panicking.
"Don't show any emotion Gerald, that is an advantage to the enemy." I said in a calm voice and pushed him out of the seat.
The sight of two jets came into vision as they shoot bullets which led to uselessness. The glass in our jet is bulletproof unless they use missiles, it will break due to how strong the blow will be but whoever they are working for is a stupid man who does not know how to teach his men the right way in handling missions like this.
Pressing the button where missiles are released, it hit two of the jets and they came crashing down the deep ocean.
The jet swerved once I swung the wheel to the left and it hit the last one. My grandfather taught me how to fight technologically when it comes to situations like this. I stood up and watched as Gerald stared at me in amusement as I made my way back to where I was seated the last time.
Propping my elbows on each side, I grab the junk I placed on the silver plate and placed it back in my mouth. It released the smoke in which I sighed in relief.
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"Destination arrived, Capo." spoke Gerald. Standing up, I exited the jet while my two men dragged my luggage. A private car just stopped by us and judging from the legally made plate number 'Solas Enterprises'. That already gave an idea that it is one of mine.
"Where to Capo?" the driver spoke and looked at the rear mirror to take a look at my expression. I signaled a symbol in which he nodded and began to drive to my hotel.
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-Documentary-
"The Mafia are well-known for brutal contracted hits that span right back to the early parts of the 20th century. During the Prohibition era of the roaring twenties we saw more mob related killings than any other period in Mafia history, and it came down to one thing. The bootlegging of alcohol.
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