A Fantasy

A Fantasy
Winning would be complicated. Paul smoked his cigarette slowly while Guilherme anxiously fiddled with his laptop, searching for something on the financial market. That situation made everything even more nerve-wracking. The room was charged with tension; every small movement seemed to amplify the nervousness hanging in the air. Paul leaned against the wall, bringing the cigarette to his lips with the same calculated calm as always. He took slow puffs, releasing the smoke in slow spirals that dissipated into the air. Despite his apparent relaxation, his eyes were alert, analyzing every detail around him, as if anticipating the next move of an invisible enemy.
Guilherme, on the other hand, was a bundle of anxiety. Sitting at the table, the sound of his fingers pressing the keys on the laptop filled the silence. He was absorbed, his eyes glued to the screen, scanning graphs, numbers, and news from the financial market, trying to find something useful.
Mayara observed the two, feeling the weight of the situation. Each one handled the pressure in their own way, but both demonstrated the impact that Santiago and his plans had caused on the Halley family. Paul, with his facade of unshakable control, and Guilherme, with his need for immediate action, were like opposite poles of the same coin.
“Don’t you think this is all… exaggerated?” Mayara broke the silence, crossing her arms. "Look at you two. We’re here torn between tension and distractions while Santiago is out there playing with us as if we were pieces on a chessboard.”
Paul raised an eyebrow, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray with a calculated gesture. “And what do you suggest, Mayara? That we go to him without any plan?” His voice had a cutting tone but was not arrogant. He leaned slightly forward, his eyes fixed on her. “Sometimes, silence and waiting are our best weapons.”
Guilherme shifted his gaze from the screen, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair. “What Paul means is that we need to think. "But thinking without acting won’t get us anywhere.” He pushed the laptop aside and looked directly at Mayara. “Santiago isn’t playing games. If we want to beat him, we need to be prepared to do whatever it takes.”
“Maybe you need more than just thinking and acting,” Mayara replied, not breaking her gaze from Paul and Guilherme. “You need to trust. Because it’s clear there are things you know that you’re not telling. And, in the meantime, he’s always one step ahead.”
Paul leaned forward, his expression serious. “You’re brave, Mayara. But courage without strategy can be fatal. And that’s why we’re here. Not to hide anything, but to ensure Santiago has no advantage over us.”
Mayara huffed, frustrated, but decided not to push further. She knew that, despite how composed the two seemed, there was much more at stake than they were willing to admit. And for now, she would have to trust, even though every fiber of her being urged her to act alone.
What strategy could change everything? What could she imagine?
The methods of the mafia were anything but simple. They were extremely intricate and complex, filled with secrets and decisions based on quick thinking, sincerity, values, and concepts possibly rooted in two or three generations. Mayara knew that her father and grandfather were members of the mafia. That alone made her a part of it, albeit indirectly. And there was Paul, her father’s godfather. She had witnessed things she shouldn’t have. And she thought back to events from the past months.
Dealing with problems would require a lot of research and tributes. The mafia was in everything. And she observed how dangerous it all was, noticing the interests of everyone involved. She watched everything from every angle.
She analyzed everything and looked around at her father. She was tired of fighting...
Paul’s expression softened a bit, and without beating around the bush, he turned to look at Guilherme. The tension in the air was making them increasingly confused and obstinate. A hug was all Mayara needed at that moment. All her success and happiness stemmed from that feeling; the observation of the mafia’s patterns around her shocked her with her reality.
It was as if she felt: in a complicated situation, with no proper resolution. It was a complicated situation, without the right complement. How dare Santiago harm her family? There was so much to analyze. While everyone prepared to confront Santiago, she was indeed going to confront him. Cassandra was watching everyone. She knew and felt the absence of her husband, but how to resolve this issue? The attack felt difficult to handle, especially in an environment where everyone was guarded; it was almost impossible to stay there.
Arthur’s judgment seemed clouded by anger and a lack of dialogue. He sighed and looked at his father’s cellphone, waiting for news. He was tired of sitting there without action. And he decided to call Mayara.
Arthur found himself sitting on the couch, his mind filled with questions and accusations. On one side, Anna’s accusations, and on the other, the evidence and perspectives produced by Mayara… those jade-green eyes and wavy hair wouldn’t leave his mind. How could he concentrate on that reality? A cruel reality, where everything becomes a trap for the heart?
He hoped that whatever happened would be reasonable. It wasn’t the first time he found himself in this kind of mess because of Mayara’s existence. He felt an even stronger urge to talk to her. He was hungry, and then room service arrived, bringing dinner, which, although hot and delicious, did not distract the young man from the problems they were about to face.
What is this?
The path prepared by Santiago was meticulous and articulate. Mayara could not deal with it well without becoming hysterical. She saw herself without much of a way out. False leads, doubts in the minds. Divide and conquer, a fatal fall. Only the cherry on the cake is missing. 

Who is the next victim?