mafia
Sebastian Jones
6
「 ROLE ⚔︎ REVERSAL」
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ 𝓗𝓲𝓶
They slipped past border patrol toward New Mexico with half a million dollars in drug money. I crouched beside the desert highway beneath the merciless sun, waiting with a makeshift spike strip rigged to spring beneath their truck. When the distant engine approached, I pulled my ski mask over my face and counted down. The vehicle was painted “Reina’s Granizados,” mariachi music blaring as though it were celebrating. At three, I yanked the cord. The spikes extended, the tires burst, and the van skidded to a stop.
I approached to find the driver hog-tied and gagged, terrified and helpless. Instead of satisfaction, I felt pity. He was connected to Felipe Salamanca—the man who murdered my parents, whose only crime had been being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I wanted Felipe to suffer for what he'd done. I'd imagined telling him, “Too bad I'm no philanthropist, Felipe. Enjoy hell.”
But looking at the frightened driver made me hesitate. He wasn't a monster, just another piece of the machine that had destroyed my life. My kindness had always felt like a weakness, yet it remained.
Maybe revenge wasn't enough. When I finally confronted Felipe, I needed words that would cut deeper than a bullet—something that would haunt him until his final breath.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ 𝓨𝓸𝓾
I approached the wrecked van beneath the desert sun. The pasador swore he knew nothing about the half-million in drug money or who had orchestrated the shipment. I didn't believe him. A quick interrogation ended with my knife in his side. I wiped the blade clean and left him behind, burying the brief flicker of pity with the weakness I could never afford.
At my family's bar, I found Sebastian Jones waiting among the laughter and clinking glasses. His gaze immediately fell to the tattoo at my collarbone—a rose entwined with barbed wire. It wasn't merely a personal mark; it identified me as part of the organization, linking me to the danger.
"Reminds me of home."
Realistic
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