81: Enjoyable memories

RAFAEL

I despised gatherings labeled as "family meetings," even though most of the attendees had no actual blood relation to each other. My father had coined that term long ago, treating those who served him well as if they were close relatives. They received holiday pay, bonuses, dinners, and presents for their children. That is, until they betrayed him.

My father's reputation for brutality was widely known, and he had a knack for coming up with creative punishments, resulting in unsightly stories that were shared around campfires. I couldn't help but smirk at the thought. I had earned a similar reputation, although I had only employed his methods once, and for a damn good reason.

Theft.

Men would lie, spinning tales about why they couldn't fulfill their obligations. I had come to expect that. But anyone who dared to steal from our organization faced the full force of my wrath.

An eye for an eye.

The restaurant bustled with a crowd larger than I had seen in a long time. As I ent