How Lilies turn Black Chapter 70 - Legal Illegality (11)

A week before Christmas, the streets were filled with the sound of carols.

 

Despite the biting cold, a warm, cozy atmosphere lingered in the air—likely due to the excited breaths of people mingling together.

 

At that time, everyone seemed to float with a strange thrill. 

 

Smiles spread across the faces of those entering and exiting the department stores in the bustling downtown.

 

But one man walking briskly down the street was an exception. He bumped into a woman’s shopping bag without a word of apology, simply brushing past her.

 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

 

The sharp shout seemed to fall on deaf ears.

 

Then again, it made sense. 

 

The festive mood of Christmas countdowns meant nothing to him. His mind was entirely consumed by the company sinking deeper into crisis by the minute.

 

Bang!

Walking aggressively, shoving past pedestrians like an angry man, he finally arrived at Fontaine Restaurant and violently swung the door open.

 

It was Jimmy McKenna, the young CEO of Inter Press.

 

“Gasparo…!”

 

Gasparo, who had been talking to his men, frowned at the booming shout. When he turned and saw Jimmy standing at the entrance, his face twisted even more fiercely.

 

Not only had he slammed the door open as if trying to break it, but he had also roared the mafia boss’s name out loud. 

 

His expression made it clear—Have you finally lost your mind?

 

And yes, Jimmy did seem like he was losing his mind. Maybe he already had.

 

Outside of Corella’s territory, Inter Press had become nothing more than discarded chewing gum in the eyes of all the other families.

 

Every single bookmaker had turned its back on them. 

 

All because of Demercy All-Time News Service.

 

That bastard Theodoro knew everything… He knew it all… That’s why he gave me those two choices back then.

 

His body trembled uncontrollably. Whether it was from anger, resentment, or creeping dread, he couldn’t tell.

Had he known that bastard would show up like this, he wouldn’t have so confidently dismissed what he’d thought was an absurd proposal. 

 

But it was too late for regrets. Far too late.

 

Unable to contain the storm of emotions surging within him, Jimmy stomped toward Gasparo.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

“Didn’t I tell you not to come here because too many eyes are on me? What were you thinking, huh…?”

 

Gasparo bit back the rest of his words, swallowing his irritation. 

 

The past few days—ignoring every one of Jimmy’s calls—flashed through his mind. He knew he couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation any longer.

 

With an impatient flick of his hand, Gasparo dismissed the associate he’d been chatting with. 

 

The moment the man disappeared, Jimmy immediately took his seat, skipping any greeting and launching straight into his tirade.

 

“What am I supposed to do? No matter how hard I try… it’s useless. What do I do? You heard what happened, right? Of course you did… You barely even answer my calls—”

 

“Jimmy.”

 

“W-we… What do we do now? I can’t handle this on my own… You have to—”

 

“Jimmy.”

 

Only after Gasparo called his name twice did Jimmy flinch and fall silent. His wide, glassy eyes finally focused, reflecting Gasparo’s face—lips curled in a smile, but eyes utterly devoid of warmth. 

 

A chilling sight.

 

“…Hah!”

By the time Jimmy paled in realization, it was too late. 

 

Gasparo’s mood had already soured beyond repair the moment he’d walked through the door. 

 

Leaning sharply over the table, Gasparo grabbed Jimmy by the chin and delivered a low, warning growl.

 

“Enough. Speak properly.”

 

“H-huh…”

 

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to have a conversation or putting on a one-man stand-up show.”

 

As his hand was slapped away, Jimmy clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head.

 

“S-sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“Whatever. Why’d you even come here?”

 

“Ah, well…”

 

He fidgeted with his hands under the table and licked his lips.

 

Only then, as if doused with cold water, did his senses return, but his mouth refused to open.

 

Still, he couldn’t just leave empty-handed after coming all this way, so Jimmy forced the words out with difficulty.

 

“As you know… things aren’t going well. It’s beyond what I can handle now… No, it was probably impossible from the start. If the Benedetti family is truly determined, what could I possibly do? The only one I can trust now… is you.”

 

“…Hey, Jimmy.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Unlike his desperate, rambling tone, the look in the other man’s eyes was nothing but annoyance. 

 

Jimmy’s heart sank.

 

He braced himself for what might come out of Gasparo’s mouth, but instead of speaking, the man pulled out a cigarette and lit it. 

 

Leaning back lazily, he began puffing away. Jimmy couldn’t read him at all.

 

But maybe ignorance was bliss. If Jimmy had known just how far Gasparo’s thoughts went, he might’ve pissed himself on the spot.

 

Of course, even Gasparo found this situation deeply troubling. Maybe not as much as Jimmy, but it was still a massive headache.

 

Who would’ve thought Theodoro—not even Luciano—from the Benedetti family would pull a move like this? 

 

And to think he’d go so far as to cut deals with other families, even if it meant paying them their share…

 

‘The fact that bastard didn’t even reach out to us… means he knows I’m tied up with Inter Press.’

 

Strangely enough, the other capos had nothing to say. 

 

You’d think there’d be pressure—accusations of skimming off the top—but there was only silence.

 

Were they truly unaware? Or were they pretending not to know while keeping an eye on things? 

 

That was what gnawed at Gasparo the most.

 

Truth be told, aside from Tony Scaletta, the other two capos had no idea about Jimmy and Gasparo’s collusion—Theodoro hadn’t mentioned it. 

 

So why hide the truth?

 

‘Fuck… Everything’s going to shit.’

 

Because this was exactly what Theodoro wanted—to make Gasparo sweat.

 

In the end, Theodoro’s plan to bleed him dry had worked perfectly… And Gasparo, unaware of this, could only come to one conclusion.

 

‘Inter Press… I have to cut it loose. Right now, that’s the best move.’

 

Amidst the dissipating cigarette smoke, his cold gaze swept over Jimmy’s pale face. 

 

Not a trace of their past camaraderie remained.

 

There was a time when Jimmy had helped him rake in money—a lot of it. 

 

Just looking at the ledger showed how much they’d profited.

 

But now, Jimmy was nothing more than a useless parasite, offering him no benefit.

 

‘No use keeping him around for profit… If I ditch him now, the other capos might never find out I was working with him.’

 

Yeah, Inter Press was already on a one-way trip to hell. Gasparo had to save himself.

 

Even if their collusion came to light, the capos wouldn’t immediately band together to kill him… 

 

But he couldn’t grovel before them like some guilty wretch. Not after how hard he’d fought to climb—and stay—where he was.

 

His icy eyes traced Jimmy’s gaunt, skeletal frame.

 

‘Maybe I should just kill him. Shut him up for good.’

 

But how could anyone know the thoughts running through Jimmy’s mind? 

 

All they could sense was the unusual glint in his eyes, and unable to bear the anxiety, he began to ramble nervously.

 

“Uh, isn’t there a way… Theo—Theodoro… Can’t we just kill that guy? Y-you could definitely do it… right? Let’s try something. If we don’t… haah… we’re all gonna be ruined.”

 

“What?”

 

He should’ve kept his mouth shut. Jimmy’s persistent pleading pushed Gasparo to the edge of his patience. 

 

With a face full of disgust, Gasparo crushed his cigarette butt into the ashtray.

 

Then, finally, as if to give Jimmy the ‘answer’ he so desperately wanted, he fixed him with a sharp stare.

 

“Listening to you go on and on…”

 

“…Y-yes?”

 

“Is Inter Press my company?”

 

“Uh, well…”

 

“It’s your company. So you save it. Who the hell are you asking to fix it for you? And what, kill Theodoro?”

 

As if hearing the most ridiculous thing for the first time, Gasparo let out a scornful laugh.

 

“Stop talking nonsense and shut up. Alright? This is advice I’m giving you out of respect for our past.”

 

Yes, advice given out of respect for their past.

 

If he let Jimmy live today, it was only to avoid unnecessary suspicion from the capos… but if he wanted to keep breathing from now on, this was non-negotiable advice.

 

“Kill Theodoro? If you don’t want to die screaming, drop that idea. Live like you’re already dead.”

 

If he kept making useless noise, whether he died by Theodoro’s hand or Gasparo’s… Jimmy McKenna’s only ending would be death.

 

Gasparo stood up, leaving behind a pale-faced Jimmy. 

 

By the time he reached the door, he could hear Jimmy’s desperate voice calling after him, but the man was already beneath his notice.

 

The only thing filling Gasparo’s mind was that infuriating face—Theodoro’s face—looking as if he was bored with the whole damn world.

 

‘Was the lion cub hiding its claws all along…?’

 

The strike from the brat he’d always dismissed as a mere whelp had been sharper than expected. 

 

Was that attack really just a lucky hit?

 

Years of accumulated experience told him otherwise.

 

Something felt off. Just like the approaching New Year of 1962, it seemed a new wind was about to blow through the underworld, which had remained peaceful for so long.