2 No Trace

Present 2023:

Sydney, Australia 

At a desolate parking lot, the sickly glow of flickering lights set the stage for a confrontation between the mafia lord, Mark Williams and his father's once trusted right-hand man, Lorenzo Gomez. 

The air hung heavy with the scent of gasoline, exhaust and betrayal, mixing with the tension that crackled like electricity. 

Clack

Mark approached Lorenzo, his footsteps echoing against the empty expanse. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened features of a young man burdened by family legacy and fractured loyalty. Lorenzo, who was standing under the dim light, wore a stoic expression that masked the turmoil within. 

"Why is it you, Lorenzo? You were like a second father to me. Tell me why," Mark's voice was filled with a mixture of disappointment and sorrow. 

Lorenzo met Mark's gaze with a heavy sigh, a glint of regret in his eyes. The parking lot seemed to shrink around them as the truth hung in the air like a fog of deceit.

"I did what I had to do, Mark. It was never personal. I am sorry you had to find out this way," Lorenzo's gravelly voice cut through the silence.

"Then let's end this, right here, tonight." Mark shut his eyes tight for a second. When his eyes opened again, no emotions could be found in them. 

The moment shattered as both men drew their weapons, the metallic clicks echoing in the stillness. The air became thick with the stench of gunpowder as the first shots rang out, the sparks of gunfire illuminating the shadows. The exchange was fierce, a dance of bullets that mirrored the dance of betrayal that had brought them to this point.

Both panted breathless, realizing their bullets had ran out. Swiftly, they tossed their guns aside and pulled out a dagger from their waist. 

Mark, fueled by the mixture of rage and heartbreak, pressed Lorenzo to the edge of the parking lot. In the final moment, Mark struck his signature move. Unexpectedly, Lorenzo, who was wounded and cornered, dropped his weapon. His gaze locked with Mark's, a silent understanding passing between them.

Lorenzo revealed a bitter smile. "You win, Lord Mark. I've taught you well."

"This doesn't have to end in blood, Lorenzo. You can still save yourself," Mark's voice wavered with a hint of desperation.

Lorenzo, his eyes betraying a conflicted soul, shook his head solemnly. "There are things more powerful than loyalty, Mark. I made my choice."

In a sudden and unexpected move, Lorenzo took advantage of Mark's second of distraction and reached into his coat. Before Mark could react, Lorenzo downed the lethal concoction. The vial clattered to the ground as Lorenzo crumpled, the poison coursing through his veins.

Mark rushed to his fallen adversary, kneeling beside him in disbelief. "Why, Lorenzo? Why not expose the boss behind all of this?"

A weak smile played on Lorenzo's lips as he gasped for breath. "Some debts are best left unpaid. The sins of the father should not be in the burden of the son. You've once dodged an attack for me. Today, I return it to you. We're even now."

With those haunting words, Lorenzo's eyes glazed over, and the parking lot fell silent once more, bearing witness to the tragic end of a once unbreakable bond. The echoes of the mafia mole combat faded into the night, leaving Mark alone with the bitter taste of betrayal and the weight of an unresolved legacy.

Mark's gaze fixed upon the lifeless form of the man who was once his father's right-hand man. As his men appeared to dispose Lorenzo's corpse, Mark turned to leave the scene where he noticed a familiar figure standing not far from him - his best friend and right-hand man, Chris Rivera. 

Chris' expression was unreadable as he accessed the situation with a practiced eye. Silent and steadfast, Chris fell into a step behind Mark as they left the scene and headed back to Mark's company. Along the route, nobody spoke. 

When both entered Mark's office, a lavish office adorned with dark mahogany furniture and walls that held the secrets of generations past could be seen. 

Mark settled into his ornate leather chair, his demeanor a mask of controlled composure. Chris stood with full attention, a silent sentinel awaiting orders.

Before Mark said a word, Chris broke the silence between them. "Lorenzo chose his own end. It's not in any way your fault. Don't blame yourself for what happened."

"You heard everything?" Mark questioned, his fingers flipping his pen like a child's play.

Chris shrugged, leaning his weight on one side of his body with a hand slid into his pocket. "Most of it."

Mark did not respond. After a while, he changed the subject. "Have you found her yet?" His voice was measured, yet an underlying tension betrayed his concern.

Chris hesitated for a moment before replying with a tone of regret, "I'm sorry, Mark. I don't have any traces."

A flicker of distress passed over Mark's face, though he quickly masked it behind a facade of steely resolve. 

Chris slammed on the desk. "Oh, quit acting like you're fine. We've been searching for Little Pumpkin for years! Are you sure she's in Sydney? I've searched nearly every single family that lived and lives in Sydney. No traces of her. None. Nada. Nah!"

"I'm sure." Mark answered with confidence.

Chris wished he could roll his eyes on him. "How sure?"

"Very sure. She said it and I heard it. Sydney." Mark declared, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. 

"Alright, then I will continue to look for her. Remember, for as long as you stay single, I can't be in a relationship either. Ah, poor me and my handsome face that needs to be off the market. We will find her." Chris knew too much happened tonight and Mark deserves a break. 

After exchanging some words, Chris bid farewell for the night and exited the office. 

Mark looked out the glass window where stars could match the city lights. His fist clenched slowly on the pinky he used to promise her back then. "Little Pumpkin, I'll definitely find you. I wonder if you've been well..."