A Death Wish

Later in the evening, as the party winds down, Malik weaves through the crowds of well-dressed guests, watching the proceedings. When he spots the new don standing alone, he seizes the opportunity, striding over and placing a firm hand on the new don's shoulder.

"Excuse me," Malik says, his tone deceptively warm. "I think it's time we had a little chat, don't you?"

The new don glances at Malik's hand but doesn't pull away. "Of course, Don Malik." He waves dismissively at his guards, signalling them to stay back. "Go on, then, Don Malik. Lead the way."

Malik leads the other man through the crowds of guests and down a quiet hallway, finally ushering him into a secluded study. He closes the door behind them, the muffled sounds of the party fading away.

He looks around the room, then gestures for the new don to sit, going behind his desk and grabbing a bottle before pouring two tumblers of fine whiskey.