Chapter 273

ALEXANDER

I stared at the kid.

Twenty dollars?

I was getting fined for language?

"Alina..."

“House rules,” she said.

“House rules,” echoed twenty tiny traitors.

A little girl crossed her arms, looking far too satisfied with herself.

“Rules are rules, mister. Even for giants.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Do not shoot the children

“Pay up, big guy,” Alina said sweetly.

“The swear jar waits for no one.”

I exhaled slowly.

I've been extorted by children.

Wonderful.

With the sigh of a defeated man, I pulled out my wallet.

One kid actually gasped.

"...That's a fancy wallet."

I reached into my wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

Twenty pairs of eyes widened.

A collective whisper rippled through the group.

"Whoa..."

"That's a lot of money."

A little girl frowned.

"...But we only asked for twenty."

I nodded solemnly.

I placed the note into a boy's's hand.

"Keep the change."

The children blinked.

I slipped my wallet back into my pocket.

"Judging by how this conversation is going..."

I glanced around at the tiny tribunal surrounding me.

"...I'm probably going to swear several more times before I leave."

"I think we'll need a bigger swear jar." the boy with the messy hair replied

They all agreed..

Another little boy looked at the others.

"We should follow him around. Every time he says a bad word..."

He slapped his hands together dramatically.

"Cha-ching!"

Another little girl gasped.

"Well make so much money...We're going to get a new swing set!"

"No!"

A boy shook his head excitedly.

"A bouncy castle!"

"A bigger playground!"

"Ice cream!"

"PIZZA!"

One boy, looked at me with the serious expression of a tiny accountant.

"I think we should call this an advance payment." He said turning over the hundred dollar bill.

I sighed.

"...An advance payment?"

He nodded.

"For future bad words."

The children all murmured their approval.

I looked at Alina.

She just shrugged.

I looked back at my tiny extortionists.

They're already planning next year's budget with my vocabulary.

I'm almost proud.

One little boy tugged on my pant leg.

"Do you know any other bad words?"

I looked down at him.

This...

This is how empires fall.

Not with bullets.

Not with betrayal.

With curious six-year-olds.

Before I could accidentally corrupt an entire generation, Alina swooped in.

She crouched to Jamie's level, her voice gentle but firm.

"Jamie. We don't ask people to teach us swear words."

"...Why?"

"Because they're bad words."

"Oh."

"And whoever says them gets no ice cream."

Jamie's eyes grew wide.

He slowly turned toward me.

Then back to Alina.

"So....does that mean the giant doesn't get any ice cream?"

I blinked.

Alina pressed her lips together so hard they practically disappeared.

"Jamie..."

"...that's actually a very good point."

I sighed dramatically.

"Damn."

I placed a hand over my heart.

"No ice cream. However will I survive?"

I gazed toward the sky.

"I suppose I'll spend my remaining years wandering the earth."

"A broken man."

"A shell of my former self."

"I'll wear black in mourning."

A little girl frowned.

"...You already wear black."

I looked at her.

"...You're remarkably observant."

She smiled proudly.

"I know."

"Anyway where was I...Oh yeah. My life, as I know it, is over."

Jamie listened with complete seriousness.

"Okay. Don't throw a hissy fit.

You can have one scoop."

Another child chimed in.

"But no chocolate sauce."

"That's for good kids."

"And sprinkles are earned."

A tiny girl folded her arms.

"I don't think he's earned sprinkles."

I rubbed a hand over my face.

"No sprinkles? My life is over.

Jamie patted my arm.

"It's okay. Try and do better next time."

"Huh?"

"I believe in you."

I stared at him.

"Ah..okay."

Then another little boy looked up at me with complete seriousness.

"Do you say sorry after you swear?"

"I...No."

He shook his head.

"Thats not good. Mia says saying sorry fixes things."

I glanced at Alina.

She caught my eye.

For just a second...

The laughter faded.

"Sometimes sorry doesn't fix things..you need to earn it" I mumbled looking at Alina

There was something softer in her smile.

Something that told me she knew that conversation wasn't really about swear words anymore.

Then Jamie ruined the moment.

"Ali!"

"If he says another bad word..."

"...can we have his wallet?"

The entire shouted yes in agreement.

I looked down at the tiny criminal mastermind.

"You know..."

"...I'm starting to think you're running an organized protection racket."

Jamie frowned.

"...What's a racket?"

A tall boy answered before I could.

"It's like tennis."

"Oh."

Then he looked back at me.

"We're not playing tennis."

"No, we're definitely not."

"We're helping you become nice."

"I wasn't aware I needed improvement."

Twenty tiny faces looked at me.

"...You do."

A unanimous decision.

Outstanding.

I let out a long, suffering sigh and glanced down at my watch.

Twenty more minutes.

Twenty more minutes of being psychologically dismantled by people under four feet tall.

I could survive twenty minutes.

Probably.

A little girl tilted her head, studying me with genuine concern.

"Do you ever smile?"

Alina answered before I had the chance.

"Rarely."

"That's... really sad."

"I smile," I protested.

Twenty tiny faces turned toward me.

Waiting.

Apparently, I was now expected to provide evidence.

Fine.

I tried.

I pulled the corners of my mouth upward into what I was fairly certain resembled a pleasant smile.

Silence.

A little boy immediately shook his head.

"No."

I frowned.

"...No?"

"No."

"What was wrong with it?"

"It looked like it hurt."

"No," another corrected. "Like he smelled something really stinky."

A tiny boy screwed up his face and copied my expression.

"I think this is what he did."

The children burst into laughter.

Alina was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.

I looked at her.

"You're enjoying this."

"Immensely."

A boy folded his arms like a disappointed coach.

"Okay."

"Try again."

"...Try again?"

"Yeah."

"But happier."

"I was happy."

"No, you were... this."

He scrunched his eyebrows together and looked like he was trying to intimidate a squirrel.

The resemblance was disturbingly accurate.

"That's unfair."

"It really isn't," Alina said, still wiping tears from her eyes.

I sighed.

"Fine."

I tried again.

This time I thought about Alina.

The way she'd laughed this morning.

The way she'd clung to me in her sleep.

The way she'd somehow convinced me to wear a pink suit.

Without realizing it, I smiled.

A real one.

The little girl gasped dramatically.

"Oh! That's much better!"

"You looks... nice."

Another child pointed excitedly.

"Ali! He has a different face!"

"I knew he wasn't broken!"

Jamie nodded wisely.

"I think Ali fixed him."

Alina beamed at me.

"Who knew my husband could actually smile."

I rolled my eyes.

"Do it again."

"I'm not a performing monkey."

"No..."

He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"...You're more like a grumpy bear."

The children nodded in unanimous agreement.

I looked back at my watch.

Nineteen minutes left.

I'm not going to make it.

I narrowed my eyes at Alina.

"...You're laughing at me."

"I'm sorry," Alina said, sounding absolutely nothing like someone who was sorry.

"It's just... it's not every day I get to see Alexander Dimitri—the terrifying mafia king—being psychologically dismantled by a group of children between the ages of six and nine. It's everything I never knew I needed."

I looked back at the children.

"...I'm delighted I could provide today's entertainment."

A boy —the self-appointed leader of this tiny criminal organization—folded his arms.

"So, Ali..."

He pointed at me.

"Does he treat you nicely?"

His eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

"'Cause if he doesn't..."

He cracked his knuckles.

Or tried to.

It sounded more like someone snapping uncooked spaghetti.

"I'll sort him out."

I looked down at him.

"...I'm terrified."

Before Alina could answer, another little girl gasped.

"Wait!"

Twenty little faces swung back toward me.

"Does he make you cry?"

The humor disappeared.

"No."

The answer left my mouth before anyone else could speak.

"I would never want to hurt her."

They didn't even look at me.

Every single one of them turned to Alina instead.

Apparently my testimony meant absolutely nothing.

She smiled softly.

"He's not bad."

I stared at her.

"...Not bad?"

She looked innocently pleased with herself.

"That's all I get?"

"I could've said 'needs improvement.'"

Traitor.

The children seemed satisfied.

Alina folded her arms.

"They're not scared of you."

"They should have at least a healthy amount of respect."

"They're children."

"They're judging me."

"They're judging you because you look like a villain."

I sighed dramatically.

I kill people...Professionally....That doesn't automatically make me the villain... does it?

Fuck of I know

I've spent my entire life learning how to survive kidnappings, assassination attempts, torture, ambushes, and hostile negotiations.

Nobody warned me that my greatest challenge would be convincing second-graders I wasn't the bad guy

A little boy raised his hand.

"Question."

I sighed.

"...Yes?"

"Do you love Ali?"

That one...

That one was easy.

"More than anything."

Andrew clapped his hands.

"Emergency meeting!"

Before I knew what was happening, twenty tiny humans marched into a tight circle a few feet away from me.

Then...

They turned their backs.

Were they...

Were they seriously holding a private conference?

I looked at Alina.

"...Are they having a meeting about me?"

She nodded.

"They're deciding whether you're acceptable."

"I wasn't aware my approval rating required a committee."

"With them..It does."

Fantastic.

The whispering began.

One child pointed at me.

Another shook their head.

A third looked over a shoulder at me with obvious suspicion.

Andrew appeared to be moderating the discussion with alarming professionalism.

This is ridiculous.

I've negotiated ceasefires between men who would've happily slit each other's throats.

I've stared down psychopaths without blinking.

I've convinced federal prosecutors to lose evidence.

And somehow...

...I'm nervous because twenty children are voting on whether I'm worthy of my wife.

The leader finally turned around.

"We've reached a decision."

I folded my arms.

"...Go on."

"You have potential."

"...Potential?"

"But you're weird."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You talk like a grandpa."

"I am twenty five."

"That's basically ancient."

I looked at Alina.

"...Are they bullying me?"

She smiled sweetly.

"Mercilessly."

"And you're allowing this?"

"Oh, absolutely."

A tiny girl skipped over and tugged on my sleeve.

"Can I ask something?"

"You just did."

She blinked.

"Oh."

A thoughtful pause.

"...Can I ask another one?"

I sighed.

"...Go ahead."

"Are your muscles real?"

"...Yes."

"Can I poke them?"

Before I could answer, five more children materialized out of nowhere.

"Me too!"

"I wanna poke!"

"I wanna see if they're squishy!"

"I bet they're fake!"

"They're not fake!"

I looked at Alina.

"Your tiny terrorists are feral."

She laughed..

"They're adorable."

"They're interrogating me."

"They're getting to know you."

"I preferred it when rival crime families got to know me."

A boy frowned.

"...What's a crime family?"

Both Alina and I froze.

Think.

Fast.

I smiled politely.

"They're... very competitive families."

"Oh. We wouldn't know we don't have families."

Before I could sympathise.

A little girl stepped forward.

"If you ever make Ali cry..."

Another little boy joined her.

"...We'll jump you."

A third cracked his knuckles.

Or attempted to.

"We all know karate."

"No, you don't," Alina corrected.

"We know... some karate."

"You watched one YouTube video."

"It was educational."

I looked at the miniature army standing in front of me.

"I believe you."

Andrew seemed satisfied.

He held out his tiny finger.

"A pinky promise."

I stared at it.

I've signed contracts worth hundreds of millions.

I've sealed alliances in blood.

I've negotiated with men carrying assault rifles.

And now...

I solemnly hooked my pinky around a nine-year-old's.

"You'll never hurt Ali."

"I promise."

The leader studied me for another second.

"Okay."

He looked back at the others.

"I like him."

Just like that.

The entire courtyard erupted into cheers.

I let out a slow breath.

Approval granted.

Thank God.

That was, without question... the most stressful negotiation of my entire mafia career.