Lesson

Lorenzo emerged from the alleyway, his fists still clenched from the altercation just minutes ago. The thugs that tried to extort him from his own movie studio lay in heaps, nursing their bruises and rethinking their life choices.

Mike, his young driver, stood by the car, polishing the already spotless door handle with a pristine white cloth. The engine purred gently, as if the car itself was eager to whisk them away from the scene.

As soon as their eyes met, Mike rushed over and opened the backseat door, a look of concern flashing in his eyes. "Are you alright, boss?"

Lorenzo offered a reassuring smile, "I'm fine, Mike. Just a little business matter. Let's go."

Mike studied his boss's face, but wisely decided not to pry further. He closed the door gently and climbed back into the driver's seat. The car merged into the bustling Harlem traffic, horns honking and tires squealing in the distance.

The streets of Harlem were bustling, men in fedoras hurrying past, women in colorful dresses window shopping, and children playing stickball in the narrows alleys. The sweet aroma of fried chicken from a nearby diner mingled with the pungent scent of exhaust fumes.

The car finally turned onto the familiar cobblestone streets of the Lower East Side.

Lorenzo stepped out of the car, the scent of combusting gasoline fading as the familiar aromas of his turf greeted him. The scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery on the corner mingled with the pungent stench of the nearby East River.

As he started walking towards his company office, he spotted Max, Patrick, and Peggy waiting for him, their faces etched with panic.

Lorenzo made his way to his desk, gesturing for them to follow. He lit a cigarette before speaking, "What is it? You all look like the cat got your tongues."

Peggy, her hands trembling, managed to blurt out, "L-L-Lorenzo, I mean, boss, Philip—"

"Spit it out, Peggy."

"Philip... he—he was caught by the police!"

Lorenzo's eyes narrowed, and he turned to Max, who was already lighting a smoke of his own. "Is this true, Max? Philip got caught by the cops?"

Max shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were any other day. "That dumb mug was dealing heroin in broad daylight. Some of our men were caught too, even Rico, my old army buddy."

Lorenzo slammed his fist on the table, rattling a nearby glass. "I thought I was clear about this. We don't get involved in that shit! Didn't I tell Philip to keep his nose clean?"

The room fell silent, except for the tick-tocking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall. Peggy and Patrick exchanged glances.

Max exhaled a cloud of smoke before speaking, "We couldn't stop him, boss. And... don't you think the drug trade is too profitable for us to pass up?"

Lorenzo's eyes narrowed, and he stood up from his desk, slowly approaching Max.

Max and Patrick tensed, knowing their boss all too well when he was angry.

"Max, I've known you for two years now, and I thought I was clear about this. We don't get involved in that shit!" Lorenzo's voice was low, but the fury in his words was palpable.

Max swallowed, the fear in his eyes all too clear. "Drugs... I know it's not right, but—"

"But you still took the money," Lorenzo cut in, his tone icy. He patted Max on the shoulder, but the gesture only added to the growing unease in the room. "So, where's the money you made from that deal? Did you and Philip split it between yourselves?"

Max's laughter, nervous and forced, bounced off the walls. "Of course not, boss! It's all Philip's—"

"Don't lie to me, Max," Lorenzo interrupted, his voice as cold as the snow that once blanketed the streets of the Lower East Side. His gaze bored into Max's very soul, leaving no room for deception. "Two years ago, you had your little gang, your own rules. But those days are long gone. I'm in charge now."

Max's eyes flickered between Patrick and Peggy, desperation creeping into his voice. He sighed, resigned to the inevitable. "Fine, fine. It's in my room, I'll get it for you."

"After this," Lorenzo growled, "I don't want to hear a peep about the drug business ever again. We're not in that game. The money you made, consider it the gang's, and consider it your punishment."

Max's adam's apple bobbed, but he nodded. "I understand."

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning in protest. "As for Philip, we all know we don't have pull with the boys in blue, not like the Five Families do."

Patrick's face clouded with worry, and rightfully so.

Then, in a move that took everyone by surprise, Lorenzo asked, "Where did Philip get his drug supplier from?"

Max and Patrick exchanged glances, and Peggy piped up, "- it seems like they're getting their supply from a mafia family. They wear black suits, and... and it seems they're the same family that controls our neighborhood."

"The Barzini family," Lorenzo finished for her. "I should've known."

Max and Patrick couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"I see you two have been keeping things from me," Lorenzo said, an edge to his voice as sharp as a switchblade.

Patrick's voice cracked as he defended himself, "Boss, I swear, it's just business between Philip and the Barzini's. Nothing more, I swear!"

Lorenzo waved a hand, "Don't be so defensive, Patrick."

Lorenzo stood up and paced the room, his hands tense at his sides. "I've been wondering how the Barzini family found out about our move on the O'Neal Brothers so quickly." He stopped abruptly, his gaze boring into Max and Patrick. "I didn't think my own men would do business with the enemy."

He delivered a stunning blow to Max's gut, doubling him over in pain. "I swear, boss, I didn't know about Philip's deal with the Barzini's!" Max gasped, clutching his abdomen.

Lorenzo then turned to Patrick, the latter bracing himself for the worst. But the punch never came. Instead, Lorenzo simply said, "I know you two are better than this, but I'm still disappointed you kept this from me."

Patrick exhaled in relief, but then Lorenzo's fist connected with his stomach, delivering a blow that winded him.

"Aaargh!" Patrick doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Lorenzo towered over Max and Patrick, who were both on the floor, clutching their aching guts. "From now on, Max, you're demoted. You're no longer the consigliere of this outfit. And you, Patrick, you're stripped of your capo title too. If it weren't for our history, you'd be swimming with the East River's finest."

Max and Patrick paled, they knew all too well the ruthlessness their boss was capable of.

Lorenzo crouched down, his eyes cold as the winter winds outside. "If you two ever betray my trust again...," he held up his hand, the index finger extended, "I'll cut off a finger. A finger for each offense. And when you've run out of fingers, I'll start on your toes. And if that's not enough, there are other... more creative ways to teach a lesson."

Max and Patrick's eyes were wide with terror, as they nodded in understanding.

Peggy watched the exchange with a racing heart, this was a side of her boss she'd never seen before. The tension in the room was as thick as the smog-filled air outside.

"Patrick, go and call Richard." Patrick nodded and scurried out of the room, leaving just Lorenzo and Max.

Lorenzo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Max, you let me down."

Max hung his head, clenching his fists. "I'm sorry, boss. I just... I thought you'd fly off the handle, you know how you get with Philip."

Lorenzo frowned, "You think I'd kill my own?"

Max hesitated, then nodded.

Lorenzo shook his head, "I might not be a saint, but I draw the line at taking out one of my own. Especially not over this." He sighed, "Philip probably got in too deep, too desperate."

Peggy's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, "I-I'm sorry for whatever Philip has done..."

Lorenzo looked at her, his eyes softening. "It's alright, Peggy. It's on him, not you."

He shifted the conversation, "How have you been handling the brothel and gambling businesses?"

Peggy stuttered, "I-I've been doing well, boss!"

Lorenzo nodded, "I appreciate that. You've been doing a good job, Peggy. Keep it up."

Peggy's cheeks flushed, "T-thank you, boss."

Lorenzo looked at her, "Can you leave me alone with Max now?"

Peggy's eyes widened, "O-oh, right! Sorry."

She hesitated, then asked, "Will Philip be okay?"

Lorenzo nodded reassuringly.

Peggy sighed with relief, "T-thank you."

Lorenzo watched her leave, then turned his attention back to Max. "Max, I know you're ambitious like me. That's what I've always liked about you. You wanted the rich life, the power, and to be a king and live out the rest of your days easy."

Max gulped, but he didn't deny it.

Lorenzo's steely gaze bored into Max's, "Am I right?"

Max couldn't meet Lorenzo's cold stare, but he nodded, as if resigned to his fate.

Lorenzo leaned in, his voice a barely audible whisper, "But as for me, I want more. I don't just want to be a king, Max. I want to be an emperor. I'll always work, and I'll never lose myself to leisure. I want to grow in power, not become stagnant."

Max's eyes widened, as if seeing Lorenzo in a new light.

"I know what you're thinking," Lorenzo continued, "You always wanted to be a politician, didn't you?"

Max hesitated, but the truth was written on his face.

Lorenzo chuckled, "No need to deny it, Max. You know, I can make that happen for you in the future."

Max's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Of course," Lorenzo added, a shark-like grin on his face, "Even as a politician, you'll still be under my thumb. That's just how the food chain works."

Just then, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

"What is it?" Lorenzo called out.

"It's me, Adam," he said, poking his head through the door, "The consigliere of the Barzini family is here."

Lorenzo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Barzini consigliere?" He thought to himself, "Damn, I'm so wrapped up in the movie studio acquisition that I forgot about our meeting."