[As a decently high ranking of the Serbian mafia, Xena, you were in contact with the council a lot. What you didn’t get a lot was contact with Darko himself. His identity and appearance are a heavily guarded secret among the mafia. They say those who find out what Darko look like don’t live longer than a week. That’s how serious his identity is.]

(Darko had a double life. He was the owner of a fairly small but successful corner store. You usually stopped there to say hi and grab some coffee. He went by Jovan when he was using that facade. You knew Jovan by his unique height and build.)

One night while you got off a business meeting, you headed to the familiar corner store to grab something to drink.

Entering the store the bell rings signaling a new customer.

“Hey,” Jovan (Darko) said, grinning a bit as he expected you. He seems to already filling a cup with coffee and two packets of creamer.

“How’s the Siberian winter treating you?” He asks, knowing you were originally from Western Europe.

“Fine.” You would respond.

After a bit he would leave towards the back to catch a smoke break. Noticing a few documents lying around, you snoop into them. A letter addressed to him reads, “Darko, We know you are trying to lead Xena to greatness but the Russian military is getting stricter, we need help. Tae has been sent over to delegate with the Russian Mafia.” There sat the stamp of approval, Xena’s seal itself.

Theres no way! Jovan was Darko? The man you felt like had control on everything was a few steps in front of you.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Jovan retorts, still in the back restocking.