Charlie’s intensity and cool demeanor sent shivers down Antonio’s spine. Charlie’s words only
heightened his fear, he understood that Charlie’s decision to spare him for now hung on the whims of his
mood.
Overwhelmed, Antonio broke into tears and implored Charlie, “Mr. Wade, today was just a minor
misunderstanding. You’ve already taken a heavy toll by breaking my knee. Please consider my sincerity.
I admit my mistake…”
Charlie smirked, “Look at you, crying like this. A Sicilian man shouldn’t shed tears. Especially not in front
of his daughter. Are you honoring the Sicilian code?”
Suddenly, Antonio felt a profound shame.
Despite his frequent championing of Sicilian values, when faced with a loaded gun and the threat of
death, he found himself begging Charlie for mercy.
At this moment, survival was paramount. Antonio would have gladly run pantless through Manhattan or
circled Central Park three times if it meant Charlie spared him.
Few accomplished individuals in any field were truly unafraid of death. Despite Antonio’s rise through the
ranks, he was not as fearless as his youth would suggest.
In his early days, Antonio was like many fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds, impoverished and unfamiliar
with prosperity. He couldn’t even afford a cab to his hits. A bus ride, machete on his back, fare dodging,
that was his reality.
He hadn’t grasped the value of life then. It was a bus ride to carry out killings while alive, and a brief stint
in an ambulance if he met his end. But as he clawed his way up to become the reigning mafia kingpin of
New York, his fear of death grew.
His courage only surged when victory was absolute. Just ten minutes ago, Charlie seemed
inconsequential, an ant to be crushed without hesitation.
Yet, now, at a dire disadvantage, his courage vanished.
In a desperate bid for survival, Antonio stammered, “Mr. Wade, if you’re still dissatisfied, I’m willing to
compensate you with five million dollars. It’s a small gesture…”
Jagoan’s smile was wry. He queried, “Antonio, how much do you really have?”
Panic flitted across Antonio’s face. He hesitated, avoiding Jagoan’s gaze, and said, “I… I… I probably
have tens of millions in net worth…”
Jagoan raised his pistol, pressing it against Antonio’s cheek, sneering, “Do you fear death or parting with
money?”
Trembling, Antonio quickly corrected himself, “No, no… I misspoke… I probably have hundreds of
millions…”
Suddenly, Antonio added, “But mostly in real estate…”
With a frigid expression, Jagoan pulled the trigger near his ear. The jolt left Antonio’s right ear ringing.
Whether from the gunshot or other factors, it felt numb, until warmth trickled down his cheek. He was
horrified to discover his right ear had been severed!
The Italian-made Beretta 92SF was a prized possession of the Italian Mafia. Its power was formidable,
though it hadn’t pierced Antonio’s ear, it had obliterated it.
Agonized, Antonio wailed. Julia cried, shielding her father’s ears with trembling hands. She confronted
Jagoan, incensed, “Are you mad? Are you a fascist?”
Jagoan chuckled, “As a Chinese man, I can’t be a fascist. Your father, this great Sicilian man, might have
ties to Mussolini.”
Staring at Julia, Jagoan’s voice turned stern, “You’d do well to see clearly. It was your father who first
sought to end my life. You saw it, he aimed for my head. Were I less capable, I’d be an unrecognizable
corpse. I’ve only given him two shots and he’s still breathing. Compared to him, I’m merciful.”
Julia was momentarily speechless. She knew her father bore full responsibility, it was his intent to kill. To
some extent, it was his own doing. But the man now who got shot twice was her father. She could only
nod, unable to utter a word.
Ignoring her, Jagoan turned back to Antonio, “Will you tell the truth, or continue with your lies?”
Terrified, Antonio wept, “I’ll tell the truth… I’ll tell the truth… I have over 2 billion in assets. Roughly a
quarter in real estate, a quarter in fixed assets, another quarter in various forms of cash, deposits, stocks
and trusts and the rest from drug deals and contraband…”
Jagoan sneered, “Only two billion? Why the secrecy? Are you afraid I’d rob you?”
Antonio shook his head, blurting, “No, no, that’s not what I meant…”
Gesturing to Jordan, Jagoan continued, “Meet Jordan. He runs a roast goose shop in Chinatown. A
gang, the Burning Angels, extorts three thousand a month from him. What’s your tie to the Burning
Angels?”
“They’re not connected to me…” Antonio attempted to defend himself, but it dawned on him that this was
Jagoan’s grievance.
In fact, Jagoan already knew of his ties to the Burning Angels!
Aman was equally defeated. He lamented, “What rotten luck! Jagoan came for Antonio today and here I
am, half an hour late. Antonio might already be gone and I’d be spared the offense and the gunshot…”
Antonio was aghast. He hadn’t anticipated that Jagoan’s front at his house was a pretext to settle scores!
Realizing he’d be shot thrice, Antonio refrained from provoking further. He confessed, “Mr. Jagoan… I’ll
tell you the truth… I oversee the Burning Angels… They’re loyal, but I didn’t endorse this audacity.
Please, let me bring their leader here. I’ll deal with him.”
Jagoan looked at Julia and posed the question, “Do you see now? Who’s the one eager to kill? Your
father, trying to save himself, is willing to kill for me. Tell me, is this man worth more than a dog?”
Julia couldn’t meet his eyes, while Antonio hastily added, “Mr. Jagoan… I also want to rectify this with
Jordan…”
Ignoring him, Jagoan addressed Jordan, “How much does your shop make monthly?”
Jordan replied, “Mr. Jagoan, the shop clears four thousand, but expenses cut into it, rent, staff, protection
fee. Four thousand is the cap.”
Jagoan nodded, scrutinizing Antonio, “Do local gangs usually demand 75%?”
Antonio shook his head frantically, “No, no… There might be a misunderstanding… The Burning Angels
took independent action…”
Jagoan dismissed it, “Irrelevant. From now on, Jordan belongs to the Chinese Gang. He holds 75% of
the debts of local gangs. Clear?”
Antonio’s eyes widened, but he dared not object. He only nodded, stammering, “I understand… Mr.
Jagoan, I’ll personally ensure Jordan gets the monthly fee…”
Jagoan waved him off, “You won’t have another chance. If you cooperate today, you and Aman will leave
New York alive tomorrow. Your daughter will take care of the monthly expenses. Fail and there won’t be a
tomorrow.”
Antonio’s voice trembled, “Mr. Jagoan… Where will you send us?”
Jagoan casually replied, “Syria. A friend runs a war experience camp. You’ll go, all expenses covered.
No need to worry about a thing. Consider it my treat!”
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