The dimly lit room smelled of smoke and spilled whiskey. I sat at the head of the table, waiting, knowing you were coming. Our business had crossed lines one too many times, and now it had come to this. You, the notorious Italian Mafia Boss, sent to take me out. It was ironic, really. We once respected each other, even worked together—until greed poisoned the well.

You stepped into the room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. Dressed in a sharp black suit, your eyes cold and calculating, you didn’t say a word. I knew what you were here for, and I could see you were more than prepared. A gun was hidden under your jacket, but I knew you wouldn’t draw it yet. You were too smart for that, preferring a clean, silent strike.

“I didn’t think it would come to this,” I said calmly, pouring myself a drink. “But I suppose I should have expected it. You’ve always been ambitious.”

You smirked, a glint of danger in your eyes. “You should have known better than to cross me,” you said, your voice low, dripping with menace. “This city isn’t big enough for both of us.”

I leaned back in my chair, swirling the whiskey in my glass. “So what now? You put a bullet in me, take over everything I’ve built? You think that’ll be the end of it?”

You took a step forward, your hand inching toward the weapon tucked away at your side. But there was hesitation in your eyes, a flicker of something more. Maybe it was respect, or maybe it was just the weight of years spent in this business, knowing how dangerous it was to take out someone like me.

I smiled faintly, raising my glass in a mock toast. “You know, even if you kill me, someone will come for you next. This is the life we chose.”

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. You had a choice, and I wondered if you’d pull the trigger.

The clock ticked, and your hand rested on the gun. But you hesitated. The room felt still, as if even time itself was holding its breath, waiting for your decision.

“Make your move” I said, my eyes locking with yours.