Terror

Mayor Fletcher narrowed his eyes at his middle-aged secretary, Ronald, suspicion etched on his face as he held up the worn, ancient-looking tarot card depicting "The Fool." "You... Don't play dumb with me, Ronald. You must be part of that 'Wolf Familia,' aren't you!?"

Ronald's hands flew into the air in genuine confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mayor."

Fletcher snatched the card from Ronald's hand and locked his gaze with a steely glare. "I'm onto you, see? I've got my eye on you."

Ronald's brow furrowed, his confusion plain to see. He'd never even heard of this so-called "Wolf Familia" the mayor was accusing him of being involved with.

But Fletcher's suspicions lingered, and Ronald could do nothing to shake them. The very idea that his own trusted secretary, a man who'd worked for him for years, could be connected to the masked man's organization sent a chill down Fletcher's spine. If even those closest to him were potential informants, it meant the "Wolf Familia" had tentacles that reached far and wide—and their power was not to be underestimated.

Mayor Fletcher went about his day at City Hall, maintaining a façade of upright leadership while surreptitiously lining his pockets with bribes. As he climbed into his waiting car, his mind raced with the day's events. His driver pulled away from the curb, but Fletcher's thoughts remained fixated on the mysterious tarot card.

He glanced down at the worn "The Fool" card in his hand, perplexed. He could have sworn he'd discarded the first one in the trashcan, yet here was an identical copy, as if to remind him of his transgressions. The thought that Ronald, his trusted secretary, might be involved with the mysterious "Wolf Familia" sent a shiver down his spine.

But how, Fletcher wondered, could Ronald have known about the discarded card when he wasn't even present for the act? The more he pondered the situation, the more entangled in intrigue he became.

The masked man's ominous words haunted Mayor Fletcher's thoughts, but he refused to give in to such superstitious nonsense. With a huff of defiance, he opened the car window and carelessly discarded the tarot card onto the busy Los Angeles street below. He wanted to see if his secretary would somehow manage to replace it again, as absurd as that sounded.

Fletcher told himself he wasn't truly afraid of the so-called "Wolf Familia" or their threats against his family and reputation. He'd weathered worse storms in his political career. No, it was the very idea that an organization could have such a tight grip on his life that rankled him.

As for Ronald, Fletcher decided, he'd keep an eye on him for now. If the "Wolf Familia" ever lost their hold over his life, he'd waste no time in showing him the door.

Mayor Fletcher's car pulled up to his stately residence, and he stepped out onto the driveway. His wife, Mary, greeted him with a curt nod, her face as impassive as ever. His daughter, Mica, on the other hand, barely spared him a glance. The tension between them had been thick ever since he'd arranged her engagement to that insufferable man's son.

As the maids began setting the table for dinner, Fletcher cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Before we eat, I have an important announcement."

Mary arched an eyebrow. "What is it, dear?"

Fletcher braced himself for the coming storm. "I'm calling off Mica's engagement."

Mary's jaw dropped, but it was Mica's reaction that caught him off guard. His daughter's eyes widened with disbelief, quickly replaced by elation as she threw her arms around him in a rare display of affection.

"Thank you, Daddy! I can't believe it!" she gushed, her voice muffled by his suit jacket.

Fletcher patted her back awkwardly. He knew that calling off the engagement went against his own selfish desires, as the union would have brought him closer to his dreams of wealth and power. But the masked man's threat weighed heavily on his mind, leaving him no other choice.

Mary's icy glare bored into Fletcher throughout the rest of the meal, but he chose to ignore it. After all, he reasoned, she'd never been fond of Mica's fiancé either. Once dinner was over, Fletcher excused himself, citing a need to unwind in the bathroom.

The hot water cascading over his weary body soothed his tense muscles, washing away the day's worries—or so he thought. As he stepped out of the shower, a flash of color on the floor caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the familiar worn edges of a tarot card.

With shaking hands, he picked it up, his worst fears confirmed. It was "The Fool" again, the very same card he'd discarded earlier that day.

Fletcher collapsed onto the bathroom floor, his mind reeling. How? How could the card have possibly found its way here, when he'd been alone the entire time? The masked man's ominous words echoed in his head.

Mayor Fletcher took a deep breath, willing himself to think rationally. "They must have informants everywhere," he muttered under his breath. His mind raced through the faces of his household staff—the maids, the gardener, even the cook—but he couldn't fathom how, but he was certain the maids, gardener or cooks hadn't been in the bathroom since he'd entered, and yet, there was the card, staring back at him as if to mock his disbelief.

The more he tried to rationalize the situation, the more it defied reason. It was as if the card itself were taunting him, refusing to be rid of so easily.

With shaking hands, he crumpled the card and flushed it down the toilet, as if ridding himself of the evidence would somehow erase the encounter from his memory.

Emerging from the bathroom, he found Mary still waiting for an explanation. But Fletcher had more pressing matters on his mind. He mumbled something about a headache and retreated to their bedroom.

Despite the lingering tension, they shared a few fleeting moments of tenderness before exhaustion claimed her. Fletcher, however, lay awake, his mind racing with thoughts of the mysterious tarot cards and the sinister organization that seemed to be one step ahead of him at every turn.

As he reached for the lamp switch, however, his blood ran cold. There, on the nightstand beside the lamp, lay another "The Fool" card—the very same one he'd just flushed away.

His eyes darted to his wife, who slept peacefully beside him. Could she be involved? The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Fletcher's mind raced with plans to destroy the accursed tarot card as he drifted off to an uneasy sleep. In the morning, he rose with determination, retrieving the card from his nightstand. He marched to the fireplace, where he carefully placed the card among the embers, he also makes sure that no one is watching him. Satisfied that it was nothing but ashes, he left for work, hoping to put the whole ordeal behind him.

But as he was about to enter his car, he froze. There, on the passenger seat, lay another "The Fool" card—the very same one he'd just reduced to cinders.

His eyes darted to his oblivious driver, but Fletcher couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. His hands trembling, he stuffed the card into his pocket and slid into the backseat.

As the car pulled away, Fletcher's mind reeled. "Who in the world is this 'Wolf Familia'?" he thought.

Fletcher couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was always watching him. The only plausible explanation was that the "Wolf Familia" had eyes and ears everywhere, prepared to replace the card at a moment's notice. It was a chilling realization, and one that weighed heavily on his mind as he went about his day.

Suspicion crept into his every interaction, tainting even the most mundane of conversations. His secretary, his driver, even the very people he'd once trusted with his life—all of them were now under scrutiny.

The power of this organization was undeniable, and Fletcher knew he was in over his head. Slowly, reluctantly, he came to a decision: he would play by their rules, at least for now.

The only face that Fletcher could associate with the "Wolf Familia" was the figure he'd met at the lounge—a well-dressed man in a luxurious tuxedo, his features hidden behind an intricate golden mask. He wielded a cane that doubled as a deadly weapon, and his very presence had exuded an air of menace.

Even the notorious Cohen Crime Syndicate, a powerful Jewish organization that had a stranglehold on the city's underbelly, paled in comparison to the fear that the "Wolf Familia" instilled in him.

---

Meanwhile, Lorenzo was oblivious to the chaos he'd unleashed upon Mayor Fletcher's life. He was too preoccupied with his latest acquisition: a struggling film studio in Hollywood, formerly known as "Comet Pictures," now rechristened "Lupo Pictures."

Lorenzo had initially named his New York-based studio "Lupo Film Studio," but something about the name didn't sit right with him. The new name, "Lupo Pictures," had a certain ring to it, and he hoped it would bring him better luck in the cutthroat world of Tinseltown.

Lorenzo's eyes also seen the film studios that dotted the landscape like Hollywood royalty: "Universal Pictures", "Walt Disney", "Paramount Pictures", and "Warner Bros." among them. The competition was as thick as the smoggy air, but he knew he had what it took to make his mark on this town.

Lorenzo's mind raced with plans for the pictures industry, his plan for the pictures industry didn't end at just making films; he also had his sights set on acquiring an agency to have actors at his beck and call.

After a hushed meeting with his scriptwriters in a cramped office, he emerged to find his trusted men, Adam and Max, waiting outside.

"So, gents," he drawled, "did the agency owner agree to sell up?"

Adam's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, boss, but the mug wasn't willing to budge."

Max kicked a tin can in frustration. "We even tried to apply some pressure, but he's not easily scared. Turns out he's got protection from the local thugs and has friends in high places."

Lorenzo's lips curled into a thin smile. "Is that a fact?" His eyes narrowed. "Alright. It seems it's time to put our dear Mayor Bowron to good use."

Adam and Max shared a laugh.

Lorenzo strolled over to the pay booth and dialed the mayor's number. After a few rings, it was answered.

"Hello? This is Mayor Fletcher Bowron. How can I help you?" The voice on the other end said, cautiously polite.

Loren't smile widened. "Ah, Mayor Bowron, I'm the associate of the 'Wolf Familia' boss you had the pleasure of meeting yesterday."

"Ah, you must be the businessman the boss was telling me about," Mayor Bowron said, his voice cautious. "The one who's taken an interest in my daughter and requested to break off her engagement?"

"That's right," Lorenzo said, a smirk playing on his lips. "I do believe we have an understanding, don't we?"

"I see..." Mayor Bowron paused for a moment before continuing, "What can I do for you?"

Lorenzo was taken aback by the mayor's tamed demeanor, but he didn't dwell on it. The man had accepted his new position as a pawn too quickly for his liking.

"As a matter of fact, there is something I need your help with," Lorenzo said, getting straight to the point.