[9:34AM]
The fated day had arrived and it felt exactly how he thought it would. Vincent knew the importance of what was to take place. He knew what was at stake. He knew what was going to happen, even if no one around him had any clue.
In the breakfast cafe that he was sitting at, early in the morning, there were so many clueless people who had no idea how one day was going to forever change their small piece of the world.
The stench of those cooperate, trafficking, and gambling elites were masked by the honest aroma of the cafe’s signature coffee. Rising up and wafting through the air, the stream of bitter caramel made its way through and to every patron’s noses. As it hit Vincent’s, he couldn’t help but be calmed, even though the sight of the rich boiled his blood.
Eventually, Vincent’s order of black coffee arrived at his table where he sat alone. With his mind still wandering to the far-away thought of what was to come, he picked up his drink and began to sip. A stinging sensation snapped him back as he quickly glanced down at his pants. A couple hot drops of coffee from the cup that was in his shaking hands had fallen on his legs.
He then set his cup down and took a deep breath. Then another. And another. And another. And eventually, he was back to a cooler place.
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright, Vincent told himself. This is just like the school day before a big basketball game.
He then shook his head in disgust. No, no, no, that’s so wrong. People’s lives aren’t a game.
Leaning back in his chair, he let out an exhaustive sigh. He rubbed his hand against his temple, messed with his hair, and thought about his friends. As he did, he picked up his coffee again and drank it—this time with steady hands.
Suddenly there was an uproar of noise coming from a few dozen yards away. It was unusual for anything to be causing a ruckus so early in the morning near the cafe. Even though the casino never sleeps, there was always a quiet atmosphere that surrounded the area, especially in the morning, almost like an unspoken contract between everyone.
Immediately interested, Vincent propelled himself off of his chair and made his way in that direction. He saw a small crowd gathered around one of the central walkways in the hall that connected the dining section to the slots.
The crowd was not stationary, suggesting that they were not gathered around an individual who was winning on a certain machine, but rather it seemed to move at a walking pace. Since he couldn’t see what they were following, Vincent forced himself into the crowd and pushed himself further in.
As he did, he began to clearly hear the babblings of the various desperate wealthy folks who composed the crowd.
“What was it like? I want to try something like that.”
“Are they still out there? Will they hurt me?”
“What are your plans moving forward? I can’t have my business affected by this!”
“W-Wait! I have a business idea!”
“Kill them all!”
Me! Me! Me! Me! Me! was all that Vincent could hear. To him, it was almost nauseating how selfish the people around are. His skin crawled each time another person spoke. The slime that spewed from their mouths seemed to squirm into his ears, filling them with a mucus that sounded as awful as it felt. Still, he had to know what got the rich folk of the Diamond Pillar so rustled.
The moment he managed to force his way to the front of the crowd, his answer was as clear as a perfect diamond. Flanked by two muscular and burly guards, in the middle of the moving crowd, was Lucretia.
As she continued to walk forward, her eyes just barely seemed to pass by Vincent. He didn't know if she clocked him or not, but nevertheless he felt her cold gaze pierce into him, igniting his burning heart.
“Now, now,” she began to say with a devious, yet charming smile, “I know you are all worried about your wellbeing and investments. I assure you that you will be fine. And if anyone tries to pry in, Ahmed will take care of it like usual.”
A ghastly pale woman draped in all black, covered from head to toe in tattoos and black accented makeup stepped out of the crowd. “There are rumors of an insurrection taking place,” she said with a heavy Russian accent. She took a smoke of her pipe and continued her thought. “How can you assure us of anything? How will you take care of this?”
Lucretia stopped and faced the woman. She grabbed the pipe from the Russian woman and took a puff of it. “Just like I took care of that pathetic excuse for a woman a few days ago.” She then continued to walk forward, smoking that pipe.
Vincent followed with a clenched fist.
After a few more seconds, a low-pitched man’s voice boomed out of the crowd. “What about any damages these ruffians may cause to our property?” the voice said. “How will we be compensated for it?”
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Without stopping or looking in the direction of the voice, Lucretia replied, “It’s your property, you have to defend it—just like I do with my casino.” She then stopped and turned in Vincent’s direction.
She tossed the pipe into the crowd and stood tall. Her chin was raised and her eyes seemed to look down at the people around her, no matter how tall they were.
“I will say this only once, so listen,” she announced. The crowd's murmuring immediately hushed. “Just like every pathetic attempt at destroying the perfect system we have established here, it will be shot before it can even take root.”
Vincent felt his body begin to heat up with anger.
“That bitch thought she could pull one over on us by stealing from me and she got what she had coming,” she continued. “It does not matter who you are,” she said with a dangerous grin, “I will take you out. You have to play by our rules—no cheating.”
As she said that, she wagged her finger in the air. In response, the rest of the crowd began to laugh hardily. The entitlement in each of every gaseous chuckle was chilling. Vincent felt himself instaucally lower into a colder place. His mind began to tunnel into nothing but her.
“And if you’re all concerned with if there are other people in this childish resistance and if they’ll do anything, I can tell you that they won’t—they never have. The animals of the lower pillars would never raise a finger towards us. Even if they get a little surge of ‘inspiration’, these people are spineless.”
Goosebumps began to pop up on Vincent’s skin.
“And stupid.”
Vincent’s breath became visible.
“And naïve.”
Vincent clenched his teeth.
“And scared.”
Vincent tightened both of his fists.
“And they won’t ever take action, especially after I made an example of one of them.”
Vincent took a step forward, towards Lucretia, eyes almost glazed over in an icy rage. With one final, deep, frigid breath, he turned around and walked away.
***
[3:30PM]
“I’m assuming we’ve come to an agreement then?” Zander asked, sitting in his fanciest chair, legs crossed.
On the other side of his office desk sat an imposing, but slightly sweating figure of importance. The figure began to speak and each word was carried by their thick Egyptian accent.
“I suppose so, but I still have a few concerns,” they answered.
“Of course,” Zander replied with a smile. “You didn’t get to your position of power through luck. You’re an extremely smart, talented, and careful guy. Isn’t that right, President Akins?”
President Ahmed Akins squinted and looked Zander up and down. After a few seconds, he loosened the tie around his neck and took a deep breath.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but there is an International Detective that’ll be right on our doorstep at any minute,” President Akins commented. He then motioned for one of his guards to approach the table. “And with the amount that you’ve requested, I would be unable to pay any of the local gangs to take care of it.” He then nodded to the same guard to open the briefcase that they were carrying.
As the guard set it on the desk and popped it open, Zander saw that there were thousands of 100 Egyptian pound bills. Zander thumbed through them and randomly marked one of them with his highlighter. After watching the color slightly shift, he nodded towards President Akins.
“As you can see,” President Ahmed continued, “there is a substantial amount of liquid cash here—exactly eighty percent of our agreed upon price. Tomorrow I will have the rest—”
Zander put his hand up in a quieting maner. “While eighty percent is nice, it's not one-hundred percent. I only accept full payment for what I offer.”
Ahmed Akins slouched slightly and sweat began to drip down his thick neck. “W-Well you have to understand where I’m coming from. I need to have money in order to pay people to protect this casino.”
Zander’s expression grew deadly serious. “And you have to understand that I know the worth of my products. It’s already a huge risk for me to sell away what I have and give it to someone who will essentially control a monopoly.” He then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s fortunate for you that I don’t care too much about the politics and monopolies of this place—I’m more interested in liquidating what I have and moving on to other ventures.”
Ahmed’s muscles began to tense, his hands had a death grip on the desk, and his face was beginning to glisten. “I-I-I’m sorry that I can’t do that. I need to use some of my money—”
Zander immediately stood up, towering over the shirking president. “You don’t need to do anything,” he said.”
Ahmed relaxed a bit and then looked up at Zander with a bit of confusion in his face. “What do you mean?”
“You are not the owner of this casino,” Zander firmly replied. “You are the president of this country. You are not a kingmade pawn in their game. You got to where you are because of your own skills.”
Ahmed Akins’ posture began to straighten.
“If they want this casino protected, then let them protect it, not you,” Zander sternly insisted. He then slammed his hand on the table. “Don’t let them control you and take advantage of you. With the grip that they hold on you, you'll never be able to achieve the wealth and success that they have, and they know it.”
Ahmed Akins started to slowly stand up and look Zander in his eyes.
Zander reached a hand out towards the president and said, “Don’t miss an opportunity of a lifetime for someone else. Don’t take the fall for something that’s not even yours.”
With his other hand, Zander pulled out a mini briefcase from behind his desk and set it on top. As he opened it, the dozens of keys that were inside began to reflect the low lighting of the space.
Nodding a few times to himself, President Akins shook Zander’s hand. “You’re absolutely right,” he finally agreed. “It’s about time that I stop playing their game. It’s been too long since I’ve held agency over myself.”
Still shaking his hand, Zander replied, “So true, so true.”
As Zander pushed the keys towards President Akins, President Akins pushed the briefcase of money and all of the money on his person towards Zander.
“It’s a pleasure doing business,” Zander said with a devious smile.