El Guje sat inside his new Volkswagen beetle along with his wife, lady Cindea, driving by his personal and most trusted driver.

He looked at the vast land in the western and southern regions of the island.

As far as his eyes can see, and beyond, this is a legacy left to him to be bestowed upon his children.

The land, the castle, the opium, and the people in it. Before all gods, he had vowed to pass this on.

All the wealth accumulated so far is more than enough for the unborn generation.

He looked lovingly at his beautiful wife who had stuck with him through thick and thin, always obedient and never for once challenged his decision.

Their life together had been of roses and little thorns. Together they had increased the wealth of the family and secured the future of their twins. His being the foreman and his wife is his most trusted and dependable assistant.

Suddenly the car swerve to the left off the freeway, loud noises of iron grinding on gravel were heard, and the two front tires lose off, unbalancing the car in motion, and the passengers inside. The driver matched the car break which was a costly mistake as the car lifted and somersaulted thrice, before being thrown off the road on the cliff into the valley below. Fire erupted as soon as the car landed and the three unconscious passengers were burnt into ashes.

El Capone was sitting in his room, naked, except for a white towel tied to his waist and a gold medallion that hung from his neck. A red wolf sat on a rug closed to the cupboard where the household clothes and shoes were stored. He wiggles his head to the melodious voice of his wife as she sings and plays her piano somewhere in the other room, her voice captivating him and sending him into a euphoria beyond human reasoning.

He muttered along with the famous fable of the scorpion and the frog, tears gathering in his eyes at the unfortunate ending of the tale.

'One day, a frog and a scorpion need to cross an island into another island in search of food for survival. The scorpion, who can't swim begged his friend to carry him on its back in order not to get drowned. But the frog had refused, what If the scorpion sting him on the way.

" Not possible", the scorpion had replied. '"Why will I sting you when I can't swim?"

The frog agreed to carry the scorpion after much persuasion, but midway the terrifying scorpion stung his friend out of fear.

"Why did you sting me?" The dying frog asked in tears.

"Am so sorry my friend, it's in my nature to sting." The scorpion replied as both friends perish in the seawater.

What a tragic ending. He muttered, stood from his seat, and walked towards the telephone that had been ringing for ages. He picked up the phone, listened for a few seconds, and suddenly everything seemed to stand still.

He raised his right hand and wiped his stationary eyeballs, checking whether he is dreaming or this is real.

The unimaginable had just happened, the mafia king is dead!

"...I'm dying..." He felt dizzy and breathless, clung the telephone to his chest with his right hand and lolled his left hand on the wall to support himself from falling, and sobbed.

"Is my lord okay?"

His wife who just come into the big parlor, followed by three beautiful palace maids ran at him, holding him and giving him a stool to sit on.

One of the maids had rushed to get a jug of water, poured it into a cup, and gave it to him.

El Capone sipped the cold water, tears filling his eyes as he looked lost.

Andrea signaled to the three maids who quickly left the spot.

"What's wrong my lord?" She repeated.

"Mafia king and lady Cindea is dead, It was an accident, the car somersaulted off the cliff close to the palace onto the valley below. They were both burnt into ashes."

Andrea sat motionlessly, this is quite unbelievable and murder had immediately sprung into her mind. The Mafia king and his queen were both murdered and the reason is quite glaring.

"What's on your mind? She asked her husband who seemed still lost in thought.

" I just can't think" He replied as tears rolled down his face and dropped on his wife's hand, as she leaned on him, stroking his bare chest and looking into his eyes.

"Everything is okay," she console her strong husband who had suddenly become weakling, holding onto her and crying. She let him cry for a while, cleaning the tears as they rolled down his face.

El Capone had cried for a while, stood from his chair, and went into his bathroom, two palace bathe-maid walked hurriedly inside to bathe him and dress him up.

It's a custom among the noble Mafia on Greenwich Island, it's abominable for a noble to bath or dresses him or herself, such belittling task is left for those who are schooled in that career and it's common for every noble house to have two or three bathe-maid to serve the entire household, this most time depending on the family number and how rich they are.

Only El Capone is served by two bathe-maid who go with him wherever he goes to offer bathing service whenever his lordship needs it.

In a few minutes, he emerged dressed and walked briskly out of the house.

The outside of the building shows a large vast of land where mini bungalows land were spreading for miles. In front of the main castle that served as his royal palace are cars parked for his royal whims.

Near his limousine stood his second in command who had already opened the car door and closed it immediately after he had entered.

The driver ignited the car, looking back at him for the location they are heading.

El Capone fixed his eyes on him, his mind back into the fable of the scorpion and the frog, somehow, he felt connected to it and wish in his quest to get what rightly belong to him, he won't have to sacrifice his wife, even if it cost him his own life.

Unfortunately, as the fable goes, both the scorpion and frog have to share the same fate in the end.

The death of the Mafia king simply means only one thing, war.

External war from the Country P merchants, who have been smuggling weapons in their ships into the island. The weapons that are presently hidden somewhere, to be used for revolting when the time reaches. The Country P merchants had become so powerful, that a fault that he regretted believed came from the Mafia king himself.

Offer a man a shake and he will ask for an embrace!

The door was opened again as his wife entered to join him. He motioned to the driver to drive towards the valley on the way to the Mafia's king palace.

El Capone closed his eyes, his mind filled with sorrow at the unexpected turn of events. When he thought his father had woken up from his slumber and took the right decision to send the foreigners out of this land of gods, was when death deemed fit to strike.

Accident or murder?

This will forever remain a puzzle that will taunt him until it is solved.

He closed his eyes, inhaling the sweet jasmine aroma of his wife's perfume.

Only time will tell.

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