The Mafia Don

James Schwartz walked into the darkened room and glanced in mild astonishment at his friend, the Boss, who looked dead on his feet.

The drapes had been drawn, and the lamps around Lucien’s large oak table were lit, making his face seem even more haggard and grave.

As debonair as ever in his grey suit, Schwartz pulled a face when he saw the half-empty decanter on the table and said, joking,

"Celebrating, huh?'

Shark who walked in behind him looked worried,

‘ Bro, bad news.'

Lucien directed a cold look at handsome Schwartz and ignored his remark.

Swivelling in his seat, leaning his head back in the rich upholstery of the leather chair he jerked his chin, his eyes opened to half slits as he growled,

"What?' he asked Shark who had moved to the well-stocked bar and was pouring himself a large shot. He moved back to the table and settled himself in a chair facing Lucien after handing Schwartz a drink as well. The Handsome man made a face; unlike the other two, he was not a heavy drinker.

Ta