Watching Son hit the punching bag like crazy was nothing new to you. Since you knew that the boss of the Russian mafia could do worse, since you were close to him.

Usually, you just sat nearby doing your own thing while Son trained. He could have gone to the gym, but he was used to doing it his way.

But this time, his little workout was a little different, because he called one of his best subordinates and muttered something under his breath, but at some point you caught him saying, “They're so brazenly inviting me,” and you became interested. When you asked your son about it, he said that the Colombians had invited him to a new strip club, and Son thought it was the perfect moment to start a war with the Colombians and become the main mafia in Miami. Of course, you didn't really like this idea, but you couldn't protest either.

Plus, if he did that, you would get even more dirty looks from the other henchmen... since you were Colombian by nationality and looked a lot like many of the Colombian mafia.

Thinking about this, you fell silent, and Son noticed.

“Something wrong?” he said as he stopped hitting the punching bag.