Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss-Chapter 84: Just Another Mistake

"Oh, Aubrey…" Silas sighed, shaking his head. "You really don’t get it, do you?"

"Get what? That you’re scared of some kid? That you’re willing to bend over and let him take whatever he wants?" His voice was filled with frustration.

Silas tilted his head, studying his son like he was looking at a lost cause.

"Aubrey….Do you think I survived sixty years in this life by being afraid? No. I survived because I knew when to act… and when to sit the fuck down."

"You’re acting like he’s untouchable, We have Montoya. We have Castillo. We can end this before it even begins."

Silas chuckled again.

"You think Montoya and Castillo are with us?" His voice dropped lower. "You think they’ll fight for you?"

Aubrey narrowed his eyes. "What?

"I’m saying that if James Bellini walks through that door. "He pointed at it. "They’ll be kneeling right beside you."

"That’s bullshit."

Laszlo, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

"It’s not." He said. "Montoya called me this morning."

Aubrey turned to him, meeting his gaze.

"He told me if James comes... he’ll kneel."

He started laughing while pointing at Laszlo then turning back and at his father. "You’re both fucking insane. Do you hear yourselves? Montoya, Castillo, all these old fucks, they’re scared? You see a guy get lucky a few times, and suddenly, he’s untouchable."

"Lucky?" He looked up at his son, really looked at him, and for the first time, Aubrey felt something close to discomfort under his father’s gaze.

"Tell me." Silas said, his voice low, steady. "Did luck make it so that no one who’s gone against him is still breathing?"

Aubrey hesitated. "There are plenty of guys still—"

"Names." Silas cut him off slamming the table with his palm. "Go ahead! Give me one name of someone who went against James and walked away untouched. One name of a man who stole from him and lived."

The silence was louder than any argument could have been.

"You can’t, can you?"

"So what?" He stepped closer. "That doesn’t mean we can’t be the first. We have the resources. The men. We just have to stop acting like he’s a fucking—"

"You don’t get it and that’s why you’ve already lost." Silas cut him off.

"Lost?"

Silas leaned back in his chair. "Aubrey…" He gestured vaguely at the room. "This right here? This is your funeral."

"What?" Aubrey staggered back. His father didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared at him.

Then spoke.

"Laszlo."

Before Aubrey could react, Laszlo locked his arm around his neck from behind.

"Let me—" His words cut off in a strangled gasp as Laszlo’s hold tightened, crushing the air from his lungs.

Silas rose slowly from his chair.

Aubrey thrashed, his heels scraping against the floor, his hands scrambling for a grip on Laszlo, on anything, but his strength was fading. The room swayed, the edges of his vision darkening.

Silas stepped closer to his struggling son. He reached out his fingers touching Aubrey’s face.

"My son…" He whispered. His hand trembled slightly as he traced his face.

Aubrey’s vision blurred. His father was still watching.

Not with anger.

Not with hatred.

With something far, far worse.

Pity.

His fingers, once clawing desperately at Laszlo’s arm, now barely twitched. The roaring in his ears drowned out everything, and yet, through the haze of his failing consciousness, he still heard his father’s voice.

"I truly hoped you would be different."

His vision flickered, darkness creeping in at the edges, but before he slipped away completely, Silas leaned in.

"But in the end…" Silas whispered, brushing a hand through his son’s hair as if in farewell, "you were always destined to lose."

A single tear slipped down Aubrey’s cheek, not from sadness, not from regret, but from something far more devastating.

The realization that no matter how hard he had fought.

It had never mattered.

"D..ad…"

Laszlo’s grip loosened just enough for Aubrey’s voice to come through clearly.

"I just… wanted to…. make you proud."

Silas stilled.

For the first time he hesitated. Something flickered in his eyes….something that didn’t belong.

Aubrey forced himself to look at his father, his eyes pleading, desperate, not for mercy, not for survival, but for something else. Recognition. Understanding. Love.

"I tried…" Aubrey choked, his breath hitching. " I wanted to be strong… I wanted to be someone you could be proud of."

Silas sighed, long and slow, as if burdened by something unseen

"Aubrey…" He whispered. "You were never meant to be me."

"Then what was…. I supposed to be?"

Silas tilted his head, his gaze distant.

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"You were supposed to understand." His voice was quiet, almost sorrowful. "But you never did."

Aubrey’s lips trembled. The fight in his body faded.

His father had already decided.

"I did it all for you…." He whispered one last time.

Silas let out another slow breath, his fingers lingering against his son’s cheek. And then, barely above a whisper—

"I know."

Aubrey thought, for just a second, that he saw something in his father’s eyes. Regret? Grief?

"Let him go."

Laszlo hesitated, but only for a second.

Air.

A sharp, searing breath flooded his lungs as he crumpled to the cold, hard floor. His body convulsed, instinct taking over as he gasped, coughed.

His throat burned, every inhale painful

Aubrey tried to push himself up, but his arms buckled, sending him collapsing once more.

"You’re still breathing." His father’s voice was emotionless. "Good."

"What was this…?" He coughed. "You wanted me to prove myself? To be worthy?"

"No." He said simply. "I wanted you to realize that you never were."

"Ahh…" He finally managed to stand up, grabbing his throat and with his other hand he gestured around like his father earlier. "This isn’t…my funeral."

He lifted his head, his eyes locking onto his father.

"It’s yours."

"Never come back, son."

Aubrey stumbled out of the room, his legs weak, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t look back.

The doors slammed shut behind him.

Silas remained still, staring at the spot where his son had stood just moments ago.

"Was it a bad decision?"

Laszlo didn’t hesitate. "It was the best decision you could have made. "You sent him away, so you won’t have to see what the Bellinis do to him. The question is what we do next."

"We wait. To see if my son survives… or if they come after me."

"And if they do come?"

"Then," Silas continued, "I dress up in an expensive suit, die in peace, knowing that I lived to be sixty."

"That’s it? That’s your plan?"

"What more is there? I’ve outlived most men in our world. Sixty is a miracle, don’t you think?"

"We both know they knew it was Aubrey… They’re going to find him and kill him, Silas. The question is, what happens after that? Do we—"

Silas cut him off. "I know. That’s why I sent him away… to buy some time. Maybe he’ll get out, maybe he’ll flee the country. But when he dies, we do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"This isn’t the same era as it was back then. We don’t make a move."

"You’re just going to let them bury your son?"

As he sat back at his chair he remained silent then looked up at Laszlo.

"I had four brothers. Four. And all of them died….killed by my father. He killed them because they fucked up." Silas continued. "Because in his eyes, failure wasn’t an option. I was the only one who made it out. The only one who learned. That’s why I said family meant something different back then. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about bonds. It was about survival, family meant everything."

Laszlo stayed silent.

"Aubrey did it knowing very well what would happen next. And if he dies… he dies knowing he made his choice."

"And that’s it? Just another dead son?"

"No, Laszlo. Just another mistake."