“Aren’t you a pretty little thing now?” said Thurston, bouncing his knife against the palm of his hand. He and two of his compatriots had surrounded a young mom and her daughter. The two women clung to each other in fear. They had walked down the wrong alleyway tonight, between the tall stonework buildings the alleyway was mired in pitch black shadows.
“We wouldn’t want to change that, now would we?” Thurston stalked forward.
The mother stepped in front of her daughter. “D— don’t hurt her.”
All three of the thugs cackled. “We won’t hurt either of you too badly. Why don’t you empty out your purse first, darling.”
The mother, Katrina, was shaking as she fumbled with the clasps on her bag. She dropped it and the contents poured out on the ground. Her purse was filled with tissues, snacks, the other paraphernalia found in a doting mother’s purse.
“Your wallet.” Thuston pointed with his knife at a muted brown satchel under the detritus.
Katrina dropped to her knees to grab the bag. At the same time, an odd wheeze came from Thurston. There was another man standing behind him, with a knife stuck firmly into his back.
“Thurston,” The man was much shorter than Thurston, with a face completely shrouded in shadows. He spoke in a high pitched and gravelly voice. “What are you doing here, Thurston?”
Thurston grunted by way of response. The two thugs turned to their leader and raised their fists, ready to fight.
“Where’d you get your boys? They should know better.” The shadowed man twisted the knife, causing Thurston to jump from pain.
Thurston carefully shook his head. They lowered their fists.
“That’s better. Now, Thurston. You know my rules.”
Thurston nodded.
“What do you think is a good punishment?”
Thurston spoke carefully, “I’ll forfeit three months profits and leave the streets for three months.”
“That’s a good boy. Now, tell me what happens if I see you again.”
“You’ll kill me.”
“Good.” The knife slid out of Thurston’s back. He and the two thugs stood around awkwardly for a moment.
“Go!” The shadowed man said, and all three thugs sprinted away.
After the thugs had sprinted away, Katrina was able to slowly collect herself. “Thank you sir. You’ve saved my daughter and myself.”
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There was no response. She couldn’t tell if he was there with the shadows.
“Sir?”
Bodyer, the shadowy man, had long since padded his way out of the alley. The knife was back in its sheath, concealed in his shirt. Bodyer was not a tall man, or an especially intimidating one. His face was sharp but he had a weak chin. He seemed like a person that’d be given to being bullied, if not for the jagged scar that stretched from the left side of his chin diagonally down to his clavicle. If somebody can survive a wound like that then they’re not worth messing with.
Bodyer walked suspiciously to the corner where he leaned up against an abandoned building. The building itself was nothing special, just another tall gabled house that lined the cobblestone street. He waited, eyes darting all over the surrounding area. After two minutes, a wooden panel blocking the entry slid aside and Bodyer slid inside.
“Where were you boss?” The center of the room had a shoddy table with two men and two women sitting casually at either end. The speaker was the leftmost woman, Lydia, so covered in tattoos her skin was barely visible.
“Fixing some issues.”
“You’ve got people for that. Let them handle the riff raff.” The other woman, Liza, spoke, an overweight maternal figure. Her rosy cheeks disguised her cold and calculating eyes.
Bodyer just fixed her with his stare for a while.
“You’re right, sorry.” Liza nodded her head in deference. There wasn’t even a moment of legitimate remorse though.
“What do I need to know.” Said Bodyer simply.
The man on the left, Eisen, spoke now. He wore a comfortable but immaculately tailored gray suit that matched his gray hair. “I have runners on first through eighth avenues. We have been operating without attention.”
“I have girls on all the corners Glaster is protecting. Clientele is down, but not a problem.” Said Lydia.
The fourth person, the man named Glaster, went next. He was a massive man, almost seven feet tall and four feet wide. He wore his beard in a wide chinstrap, his hair trimmed close. “No changes. All delayed payments have been resolved this month per your directive. Cracked more than a few heads.” Glaster said this final sentence with a building belly laugh.
“Only the laundry business is in the red. I’ve found new management yesterday, should be fixed within two weeks.” Said Liza.
These were the four arms of Bodyer’s business. Eisen handled drug distribution. His family name was old, but he was bored and childless. He loved the rush the business gave him. Lydia handled girls, prostitutes and escorts. Glaster was the muscle, his arm was protection rackets. Finally, Liza was the unofficial treasurer and ran all of the money laundering businesses. Liza was completely irreplaceable and she knew it.
“On that problem, Thurston rounded up some boys to mug some women in our alleys.” Said Bodyer.
“On it, boss.” Glaster nodded.
“Business is going smoothly, which means it’s time to expand. What opportunities do we have?”
Everybody looked to Liza. “We can diversify our legit business portfolio, maybe invest in real estate. There’s no further under the table avenues without attracting Era’s attention.”
Era was a fair god. He knew humans would inevitably gravitate towards certain illicit things, so he allowed them as long as they were safely conducted. Bodyer liked safe, so he and Era were on good terms.
“Let’s move into real estate. Know anybody who can own that?”
“My niece is a Realtor.” Eisen scratched his head.
“Is she a good girl?” asked Lydia.
Eisen shrugged, paused in thought, then said, “Let’s count her out.”
A few minutes passed with no suggestions. “I’ll find somebody.” Bodyer stated, “Meeting adjourned.”
Without another word, Bodyer walked out the back entrance and cut through the connecting businesses. He was out on the streets again, his streets. It wasn’t a glorious empire, but it was indisputably his. He would destroy anybody who said otherwise.