Chapter 6

Don Carlo sat in his sitting room on top of the huge chair that was reserved especially for him and him alone. He retrieved a cigarette from the pack on the table in front of him and then lit it.

He was upset.

The least of his problems was supposed to be family issues. But at the moment, that was the pinnacle of it. How was he going to convince his stubborn daughter to wait so that he could gather enough funds to secure their way to Europe?

Didn't she see the danger of living in the Lakeside region? Didn't she see the huge number of enemies he has managed to accumulate? Didn't she see that he only wished the best for them and nothing but the best, that he was trying to make sure that they didn't end up like him?

He was annoyed that she couldn't even see his point and his perspective. She was all about her future, and it hurt him. Couldn't she see that he also wanted that future for her? That he wanted nothing but a beautiful future for her too?

But that was the problem. What he wanted was not what she wanted, and that was normal when it came to his daughter. She had a fiery character and temper, and she never seemed to care about other people's opinions. She was fearless.

Even more than her brother.

Sampson would dare not challenge him. Sampson was too tame, too scared, and a coward. But what he lacked in character, he made up for in cruelty. He had seen his son punish servants a couple of times, and he had known at that moment that the day he stopped being the Don, things were going to change massively.

His son was way too cruel to be the Don, and he was even going to do worse than he had done.

His only happiness was the urge he had always shown in the family business. He was ever so ready to take on new things, to face new tasks as far as it involved drugs. He was ready to learn how to shoot, learn how to smoke, and even learn combat.

He was interested in everything that involved being a mafia lord.

But was he going to be able to lead the Du Vanguard men successfully? Was he going to be a son he was going to be proud of? Was he going to regret making him the boss of the Du Vanguard gang?

He didn't know. He couldn't answer those questions because he couldn't predict the future. At that moment, all he wanted to do was bask in his victory over Don Sebastian. He was however careful and had even gone as far as strengthening his security detail because he was ready for the second attack.

Don Sebastian was a man that wasn't to be joked with.

And now that he had gone to war with a freak, he knew that he was supposed to act and think like one. To defeat Don Sebastian completely, one had to be him. One had to be one step ahead of him, to not be fazed by his freakiness or how dangerous he was.

Billowing smoke into the air, Don Carlo sat upright when he found his son sauntering into the sitting room. He flopped into the chair opposite his, then stared at him in a way that he knew. His son needed a favor.

He smiled at him, then offered him a cigarette which he refused.

“You can quit the act. I've seen you smoking on three occasions, and I won't lie, I was amazed each time at how fast you reduced the cigarettes. You're a natural, I must admit. Just like me.”

Laughing, he requested one, then smiled as Don Carlo gave it to him. He then lit it, inhaling and letting go in such a way that the smoke showed rings as it left his nostrils.

“Impressive!”

They both burst into laughter, and Don Carlo smiled. He was afraid of how quickly his son was learning everything. He was too eager, too invested. He wondered if he had made a mistake by always discussing deals in his son's presence.

Was that what had transformed him into a mini crime boss at such a young age already?

“Well, Dad. I came to ask a favor from you.”

“Yes, boy, spill.”

“It's about the combat event that some of the men will be attending tomorrow night. I want to join them, father. I need to get registered too. I want to start these things in time, Dad. I can learn the ropes quickly. I'm ready, father.”

Don Carlo stared at his son through the smoke, then shook his head. The boy wasn't ready for leadership at all. He was too rash, too quick to make decisions. He rarely sat down to think about his decisions, and it wasn't a good leadership trait.

“You're not ready, Sampson. Take your time. Leadership and combat aren't something you should rush into. That being said, you won't go to the combat event. You know the state of things, boy. There is danger lurking in every corner. This compound is safe, stay indoors.”

From the frown on his son's face, he could see that he wasn't pleased with his decision. But Don Carlo cared less. He was always going to be the villain as far as his family was concerned.

They didn't see the sacrifices he made, they didn't see how hard he was trying to be a leader and a father at the same time.

“Come on, father. It's just a combat event. And yes, the men will be there to protect me. Please father.”

“Go inside, I permit you to visit my bar and take a bottle of brandy. Drink to sleep, Sampson. You aren't ready to bear the burden of being a leader.”

When his son left the room in obvious anger, Don Carlo nodded. That was settled, even if he ended up being the villain.

Sampson Du Vanguard wasn't going to be fazed by his father's refusal to attend the combat event. At that moment, he knew it was a chance to prove to his father that he was indeed ready to start defying his orders.

He was trying to create a name for himself at an early age, but his father seemed to be blocking it at every corner. What was wrong with him? There were Dons who had sons who didn't even care about the family legacy or the business, but here he was, putting his all into it, and what was he getting in return?

Nothing.

He was being insulted regularly by his father instead, and the talk of him not being ready was too much to bear. How else was he supposed to show that he was ready? What hadn't he done? What hadn't he shown interest in?

He had done everything that was required, but his father seemed not to care. He was ignoring him with the “you're not ready” gimmick, and it hurt him every time.

Did his father not love him?

He was upset. Entering his room, he locked the door, flopping on his bed. There, he retrieved the joint he had bought from Cole, one of his favorite guards. Cole was also the one who had informed him of the combat event. And that was why he wanted to go because all of his father's men were going to be there.

He was ready to challenge them to wrestling, boxing, and kickboxing. He was ready to show off that even though he was still young, he was agile and very sharp and sound. He wanted them to see him, he wanted them to notice him.

He wanted that respect, and he felt the only way he could achieve it was by going to the combat event and fighting a few of his father's men. Defeating some of them at their own game was going to open their eyes. Not only were they going to treat him with respect, they were going to look at him in a different light.

He lit the joint, smoking it until it was gone. Satisfied, he stood up, his mind made up.

He was going to go to the combat event whether his father liked it or not. He didn't care what was going to happen at that moment. All he cared about was him fighting and proving people wrong. All he wanted to do was to move forward, to be the man that people expected him to be.

He left the bedroom, having made his mind up. He was going to go to the combat event, and he didn't care about the consequences, whether he was going to get punished or not.

Leaving his room, he found his way to the guard room where he found Cole and a few other guards eating. As soon as they saw him, they cheered and he laughed. He hated most of them, but he knew how to mask his feelings.

He only liked Cole because unlike then, Cole saw him as a true friend. The other guards were the same. Some of them even thought he was stupid because he always sought their opinions over issues.

However, he was only planning. He was going to shock them with his cruelty by the time he became the boss of the Du Vanguard Mafia. At the moment, he wanted to play the fool, and he was secretly happy that they were falling for it gradually.

“I'm coming to the event, Cole. What's the dress code?”

At that moment, Terry, one of the soldiers he hated with passion stared at him, laughing loudly. He looked around, engaging others in the same ridiculous laughter.

“You thought we didn't hear? Your father orders that you shouldn't come. He has even ordered why we carry you along to be punished. You're a little daddy's boy, you see. You should remain at home as he has ordered.”

At that moment, he lost his temper. He had always hated Terry, but that moment only seemed to cement the hatred he felt for him.

Without batting an eyelid, he rushed forward, plunging his fist into the young man's jaw. He had been doing a few punching exercises, and he was happy to see that the punch threw him off balance for a moment. Terry fell, and the gang of soldiers cheered.

Before Terry could retaliate, Cole had jumped in between them, his frown telling them that the party was over. Leading him by the hand, Cole took his friend out of the room and outside.

“You've got to be kidding me, Cole. You should have let me teach him a lesson. I've wanted to do it for God knows how long.”

“You're not coming to the combat event with us, Sampson. You know what your father is capable of doing if he discovers that we let you come with us. What you've asked us to do is impossible, my friend.”

Sampson stared at his friend, suddenly irritated. Shaking his head, he left his friend behind, shaking his fist in anger. How dare they!

Who were they to decide if he went to the combat event or not? He was going to show them. He was going to show them all, his father included. He was going to go to the combat event and come back, even if his father was going to kill him after that.

He didn't care about the aftermath. He only cared about the outcome.

Entering his room, he lit another joint of marijuana. He smoked slowly, allowing himself to get immersed in the strawberry-flavored wrap of the joint.

Just like his father had said, he was a natural at smoking. But he wanted to show his father that he was a natural at many other things too. Many other things that were not smoking. That was way more important than smoking too.