Page 70
Story: Influence
Too bad they’d chosen the wrong side.
It was clear that today’s meeting wasn’t focused on avenging the brutal killings of Cristo Caras, Morisi Bella, and Pello Korba. Although the official agenda was to address past grievances, everyone understood, albeit silently, that the real purpose was to confront the audacity of three Vitalis women assuming positions typically held by men.
Our traditions expected women to remain silent and stay in men’s shadows, never to outshine them.
Avra and Laya courageously opposed this notion, while Cali faced significant consequences for her defiance. The recollections of her past resistance continued to haunt her, like a persistent fog that might never entirely dissipate.
Certain individuals would oppose the impact of the Vitalis women until the very end, fueled by the mistaken belief that their outdated perspectives were the only truth. Their steadfast commitment to these outdated ideas was both baffling and frustrating.
How could they embrace cutting-edge technology while obstinately holding onto antiquated beliefs about women?
In contrast, the women I knew exemplified creativity and innovation. They were diligent, smart, and resourceful, traits that greatly exceeded what the majority of these individuals could achieve.
A few minutes later, with Pavlos trailing just a few steps behind, I reached the heavy, worn door and greeted Elias at the entrance.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” He gestured behind him. “The others are already seated.”
“Thanks, I’m ready,” I replied, and together we walked down a long, echoing hallway until we entered the tasting room of my competitor’s sprawling estate.
Soft, diffused light filled the room, highlighting the polished wood and the lingering aroma of vintage wine and leather, mingling with an undercurrent of tension.
I walked confidently toward the group, shoulders back and chin elevated, determined to convey that I considered their authority inferior to mine. My gaze swept the table, analyzing everyone present like pieces of a dangerous puzzle.
At the far end of the room, Vik sat like an immovable force, flanked by two empty chairs, emphasizing his authority. A group of familiar yet intimidating figures occupied the remaining four seats.
Among them was Leon Boscos. Aside from Elias, I was the only one aware that his people had uncovered the planned hits discussed by the men at today’s meeting. We intended to keep this intelligence confidential.
Leon managed one of the three largest sectors in the region, a territory so vast that the others seemed insignificant in comparison. Over the years, I had become well acquainted with him, appreciating his fairness and ruthless demeanor. The public saw him as tough and no-nonsense, though he rarely revealed his softer side.
In our world, survival hinged on a strong exterior; showing weakness invited disaster. This unyielding lifestyle required constant vigilance and ongoing efforts to conceal any signs of frailty.
I paused beside Leon Boscos and inclined my head. “Leon, it’s been too long.”
He nodded. “Busy. Business waits for no one. And you?”
I smiled slightly. “I’m in the thick of it, as usual. Let’s catch up after we get through this.”
Next to Leon, Moser Bouras and Franco Dimitri occupied the remaining seats: older godfathers deeply entrenched in this cutthroat game.
“Gentlemen.” I greeted them with a curt nod. Elias and I then took our seats beside Vik, maintaining our calm and deliberate demeanor.
I faced the group, ready to withstand any verbal barrage they might unleash.
They wasted no time diving into their grievances.
Moser spoke, toying with the cigar between his lips. “Let me get straight to the point.” A towering, podgy man who rarely handled matters himself, Moser always aroused suspicion. I wouldn’t be surprised if a hidden pistol lay beneath his well-tailored jacket. “It’s these fucking Vitalis women. The world would have been better off if they’d stayed out of the picture.”
The audacity of this asshole to speak this way, especially in front of Eli and me, two men now married to the very women he despised, not to mention Vik, their fierce protector. It took some guts to say it so bluntly.
“They’re back,” I stated with a calm as unyielding as ice. “And they're not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“That would be fine,” he retorted, “if they'd mind their own business and stop trying to muscle into our territories!”
“I’m just reminding you, Moser,” Vik interrupted, his speech as steady as stone. “Those territories originally belonged to the Vitalis family.”
“Yeah, well, times change, don’t they?” Moser shot back dismissively. “Just because they’ve grown up and returned doesn’t mean history can simply be rewritten. Those women can’t just barge into our territories and claim what isn’t theirs! They’re power-hungry, and they need to be stopped. Women have their roles in the syndicates, and it isn’t at this table or running the show. Who are they to take charge?”
His bitter anger was beyond evident in the flickering motion of his cigar as it hovered near his lips. I fought the urge to stand up, to shake him out of his seat and put an end to this rant, perhaps even to draw my concealed weapon and silence his misogyny once and for all. If he used the word “women” one more time, I silently promised him retribution.
It was clear that today’s meeting wasn’t focused on avenging the brutal killings of Cristo Caras, Morisi Bella, and Pello Korba. Although the official agenda was to address past grievances, everyone understood, albeit silently, that the real purpose was to confront the audacity of three Vitalis women assuming positions typically held by men.
Our traditions expected women to remain silent and stay in men’s shadows, never to outshine them.
Avra and Laya courageously opposed this notion, while Cali faced significant consequences for her defiance. The recollections of her past resistance continued to haunt her, like a persistent fog that might never entirely dissipate.
Certain individuals would oppose the impact of the Vitalis women until the very end, fueled by the mistaken belief that their outdated perspectives were the only truth. Their steadfast commitment to these outdated ideas was both baffling and frustrating.
How could they embrace cutting-edge technology while obstinately holding onto antiquated beliefs about women?
In contrast, the women I knew exemplified creativity and innovation. They were diligent, smart, and resourceful, traits that greatly exceeded what the majority of these individuals could achieve.
A few minutes later, with Pavlos trailing just a few steps behind, I reached the heavy, worn door and greeted Elias at the entrance.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” He gestured behind him. “The others are already seated.”
“Thanks, I’m ready,” I replied, and together we walked down a long, echoing hallway until we entered the tasting room of my competitor’s sprawling estate.
Soft, diffused light filled the room, highlighting the polished wood and the lingering aroma of vintage wine and leather, mingling with an undercurrent of tension.
I walked confidently toward the group, shoulders back and chin elevated, determined to convey that I considered their authority inferior to mine. My gaze swept the table, analyzing everyone present like pieces of a dangerous puzzle.
At the far end of the room, Vik sat like an immovable force, flanked by two empty chairs, emphasizing his authority. A group of familiar yet intimidating figures occupied the remaining four seats.
Among them was Leon Boscos. Aside from Elias, I was the only one aware that his people had uncovered the planned hits discussed by the men at today’s meeting. We intended to keep this intelligence confidential.
Leon managed one of the three largest sectors in the region, a territory so vast that the others seemed insignificant in comparison. Over the years, I had become well acquainted with him, appreciating his fairness and ruthless demeanor. The public saw him as tough and no-nonsense, though he rarely revealed his softer side.
In our world, survival hinged on a strong exterior; showing weakness invited disaster. This unyielding lifestyle required constant vigilance and ongoing efforts to conceal any signs of frailty.
I paused beside Leon Boscos and inclined my head. “Leon, it’s been too long.”
He nodded. “Busy. Business waits for no one. And you?”
I smiled slightly. “I’m in the thick of it, as usual. Let’s catch up after we get through this.”
Next to Leon, Moser Bouras and Franco Dimitri occupied the remaining seats: older godfathers deeply entrenched in this cutthroat game.
“Gentlemen.” I greeted them with a curt nod. Elias and I then took our seats beside Vik, maintaining our calm and deliberate demeanor.
I faced the group, ready to withstand any verbal barrage they might unleash.
They wasted no time diving into their grievances.
Moser spoke, toying with the cigar between his lips. “Let me get straight to the point.” A towering, podgy man who rarely handled matters himself, Moser always aroused suspicion. I wouldn’t be surprised if a hidden pistol lay beneath his well-tailored jacket. “It’s these fucking Vitalis women. The world would have been better off if they’d stayed out of the picture.”
The audacity of this asshole to speak this way, especially in front of Eli and me, two men now married to the very women he despised, not to mention Vik, their fierce protector. It took some guts to say it so bluntly.
“They’re back,” I stated with a calm as unyielding as ice. “And they're not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“That would be fine,” he retorted, “if they'd mind their own business and stop trying to muscle into our territories!”
“I’m just reminding you, Moser,” Vik interrupted, his speech as steady as stone. “Those territories originally belonged to the Vitalis family.”
“Yeah, well, times change, don’t they?” Moser shot back dismissively. “Just because they’ve grown up and returned doesn’t mean history can simply be rewritten. Those women can’t just barge into our territories and claim what isn’t theirs! They’re power-hungry, and they need to be stopped. Women have their roles in the syndicates, and it isn’t at this table or running the show. Who are they to take charge?”
His bitter anger was beyond evident in the flickering motion of his cigar as it hovered near his lips. I fought the urge to stand up, to shake him out of his seat and put an end to this rant, perhaps even to draw my concealed weapon and silence his misogyny once and for all. If he used the word “women” one more time, I silently promised him retribution.
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