Dominic Marcon stood motionless as the elevator ascended towards the penthouse. All his scheming, all his patience was about to pay off. The pistol he'd been handed weighed heavy in his grip, a physical burden emblematic of what was to come. He glanced at the bodyguards on either side of him, once-loyal men he'd bribed, blackmailed, and bargained into loyalty to him. One minute left.

On reaching the penthouse, he strode forwards, guards flanking him, keeping up appearances. The doors opened, and he caught sight of his target. Don Machina. Head of the Machinations crime syndicate. The untouchable king.

Not for much longer.

“Dominic! It is good to see you again, how fare our operations in the far west?" The Don was a jovial man, the kind who so lacked empathy that he could order a man's execution with a smile on his face. He was pleasant to spend time with, surely, and surprisingly forgiving of mistakes, for a crime boss. He valued loyalty above all else; betrayal was met with the harshest punishments conceivable, but more than that, he gave his family good reason to be loyal to him. That didn't mean he didn't have enemies though.

“They go well. Those who know me, kneel to me, and operations are in place to expunge or subdue the last remaining elements who still resist my control. The city will be mine within the week." His hands remained clasped behind his back, weapon loaded, trigger cocked. The moment was close now.

“Yours? You mean ours, Dominic." A curious tone crept into his voice. He'd dealt with insurrections before, but he trusted Dom.

“No. I mean mine." He relaxed his arms, casually bringing the pistol up, aiming squarely for the Don's chest. Too far to grab, too close to evade. He could kill him easily… but his finger stayed off the trigger.

The Don sighed, leaning back. He knew better than to go for the gun under the table, and the guards behind him remained motionless. They were in on this too. “You know Dom, I had such high hopes for you. You're a bright kid, and you have a knack for the business… but you're too hungry. Too impatient."

“Am I?" His aim was stead, his voice clear. “I've beaten you at your own game. Your guards are loyal to me. One bullet, and I own everything you've built."

“It's too bad you don't have any then. That gun's loaded with duds. I don't know what you did to make you think otherwise, but my family is loyal to me. Did you really think one of my own men would hand you a weapon to kill me with?"

He shrugged. “Of course I did. Good thing I brought my own bullets." He grabbed the slider and yanked it back, ejecting the loaded bullet from the chamber. He slammed it down on the table, then placed the gun next to it. “You're losing your touch, dad. This is a young man's game. It's time for you to retire."

Donny Marcon leaned forwards and picked up the bullet; made of solid gold, with his initials carved into the shell casing. The guards behind Dom tensed up; they'd handed him a gun loaded with duds, but neither had caught the moment he'd loaded a live shell into the chamber. The Don glanced at them a cold look as if to say 'I'll deal with you later.' Then stared at the bullet, turning it over in his hands. “Say, Dom… how's that girl you're sweet on? The Murasaki girl we took in off the streets. It's been a while since I've seen her."

He hadn't planned for that. “I hear she's made a name for herself on the stage. I've been keeping tabs on her, debating the benefits and dangers of making contact with her again. Why ask?"

“You got a good poker face kid, but there's no use lying to me. You've purchased a box seat ticket for the final performance of every one of her shows since I moved east, and you have lunch with her after every performance as an excuse to bring her a bouquet of flowers. You go to the same little sandwich shop on the corner too. Tell me, do you know if she made it home safe tonight?"

“You wouldn't." He would and they both knew it.

“I didn't. There's a sharp difference there. She's a liability to you Dom, I told you that when you were younger but you didn't listen then either. Either cut ties with her and move on, or bring her into the fold so we can protect her." He checked the gun, to keep his hands busy; it was indeed loaded with duds. Good. That meant there'd be no corpses to dispose of tonight.

“Nobody knows I have anything to do with-"

“You used your influence to ENSURE that she landed a spot in the limelight, and then you bought out critics to ensure that she was an instant star. You've been using her, and you know it. I know it. That means someone else might."

They stared each other down, young blood staring into aged treachery. Dom spoke quietly, but with conviction. “If a situation arises, I will deal with it, but rest assured that nothing exists in this world to use as leverage against me. I learned that lesson from you well."

The Don sighed and leaned back. “Well I'll tell you what. You pulled a fast one on me with the gold bullet, and I can count on one hand the number of times that's happened. It's been a while since I went on vacation… I think I'll take a cruise down to the Ghozumel Islands. Let you handle things for a week or two. You have until then to either convince Shouyousei to rejoin our family, or convince me that she means nothing to you. I won't let you pine over a girl you can't have, Dom, our bloodline is too important for that."