Angelo stood in a grand office of burgundy and redwood, with plush olive cushioned chairs that he refused to sit in. Across from him was a flourishing desk, and beyond that was a three panel floor to ceiling window that was closed with black curtains. Shelves upon shelves of probably unread books lined either side of him, hells he wouldn't be surprised if they were just for decoration.
The only other person in the room was an Italian man sitting at the desk, fingers folded as he stared down Angelo like a piece of meat hanging in front of his dinner plate. Angelo didn't look at him, simply staring at a blank point on the man's desk in hopes that was considered good enough eye contact.
The man was Italian, with olive skin dark sideswept hair with an undercut, strong eyebrows over brown eyes that glared at him with a kind of unexplainable hate, and such a prominent nose that Angelo wanted to compare him to a rhinoceros every time he saw him. However, that wouldn't be a very good idea to insult the Don of the Kuron household like that.
"You hit one of my men."
The words that flew from the Don's mouth were calculated, but flat. Angelo had no response, continuing to stare at the blank space on the desk.
"Good." The man continued. "That's an excellent way to earn respect in our line of work."
Leaning forward, the Don crossed his fingers, and Angelo could detect a hint of his eye twitching – probably annoyed Angelo wasn't responding to him, and never would.
"Dominik talks too much." The Don continued. "You'll need to cave his face in often when you take over my seat."
Angelo didn't like that. When you take over. He didn't like being reminded that he was the flesh and blood of the Don. The son of Lorenzo Kuron.
"But you haven't taken over yet." Lorenzo said sharply, and rose from his sea. He began to walk around the desk, still speaking. "You're not the kingpin – not yet. You are a shadow of the name I gave you, Blaze Kuron, and you will act as such."
He stopped behind him, and Angelo didn't move. "Because when a shadow acts without orders…" He put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in. "They paint a target on their back."
Angelo refused to flinch, pull away, or panic. His father Lorenzo was just trying to scare him, and it wasn't going to work. Angelo refused to let a heartless, spineless bastard like Lorenzo make him fear him. Even if his touch made him want to recoil, to crawl out of his skin, he refused. Lorenzo stepped around him, letting go of his shoulder.
"Your punishment is as follows." He said. "You will go on the mission tomorrow alone."
Lorenzo didn't have to spit out the rest for Angelo to know what that meant. His mission – though not his first solo mission – was to get the payment from that man or kill him. Angelo… never killed anyone before.
"Now get out of my sight, mute," His father spat. "And learn to speak before I decide your tongue is better off cut out."
Angelo didn't hesitate. He turned and left the room, opening the double doors and stepping out of the room without a second look back. He started walking down the halls, trying to control himself but the panic was slowly building.
Jose usually kept him from getting his hands dirty. He didn't want Angelo to suffer from blood on his hands, and he never really understood why. He would have to kill sooner or later, but now… now he really didn't want to. He prayed that the man paid up when he got there.