The Mafia Boss and the Bartender

The Mafia Boss and the Bartender

When people heard the name Vincent Moretti, they got nervous.

Some people crossed the street.

Some people locked their doors.

One man accidentally jumped into a fountain.

Vincent was the most feared mafia boss in the city.

He owned luxury cars.

He owned expensive suits.

He owned enough gold watches to tell the time in every country on Earth.

What Vincent did not own was the heart of a bartender named Leo.

And that bothered him.

A lot.

One evening, Vincent entered Leo's bar.

The entire room became silent.

A few customers immediately paid their bills and left.

One man climbed out a bathroom window.

Vincent walked confidently to the counter.

Leo looked up.

"What can I get you?"

Vincent smiled.

"A bottle of your finest whiskey."

Leo handed him a menu.

"Twenty dollars."

Vincent blinked.

That wasn't how this was supposed to go.

Normally people gasped when he entered a room.

This man was charging him twenty dollars.

Vincent decided to try again.

"You know," he said casually, "I own twelve mansions."

Leo wiped a glass.

"Nice."

"I own a private island."

"Cool."

"I have three yachts."

"Congratulations."

Vincent frowned.

This was not normal.

Human beings were usually impressed by yachts.

Entire civilizations had gone to war over less.

The next day, Vincent returned.

This time he arrived in a bright red sports car worth more than most houses.

He parked directly outside the bar.

Then he waited.

Leo walked outside to throw away trash.

Vincent leaned against the car.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Leo nodded.

"Very expensive."

Vincent smiled.

Finally.

Progress.

Then Leo continued.

"My cousin's mechanic shop will love repairing it."

Vincent's smile disappeared.

The war escalated.

Because that's what happened when rich people ran out of hobbies.

The following week, Vincent entered the bar carrying a briefcase.

He opened it dramatically.

Stacks of cash filled the inside.

Customers gasped.

One old lady nearly fainted.

Leo looked down.

Then up.

Then down again.

"Why are you carrying cash like a cartoon villain?"

Vincent closed the briefcase.

The old lady laughed so hard she started coughing.

Determined to win, Vincent purchased the building next door.

Then the building across the street.

Then the flower shop nearby.

Eventually he owned half the block.

He proudly showed Leo the paperwork.

Leo glanced at it.

"That's nice."

Vincent twitched.

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Be impressed."

Leo shrugged.

"I once saw a pigeon steal a hotdog from a police officer. That impressed me."

Vincent stared.

He suddenly hated pigeons.

Weeks passed.

The mafia boss grew desperate.

One night he rented a helicopter.

Because apparently that seemed reasonable.

The helicopter landed outside the bar.

Dust flew everywhere.

Customers screamed.

A trash can rolled down the street.

Vincent stepped out wearing sunglasses.

Leo opened the door.

"What happened?"

"I arrived."

"In a helicopter?"

"Yes."

Leo looked at the damaged flower pots.

Then at the terrified customers.

Then back at Vincent.

"You know, normal people use doors."

For the first time in years, Vincent felt defeated.

He sat quietly at the counter.

No expensive suit.

No gold watch.

No bodyguards.

Just himself.

Leo noticed.

"You seem sad."

Vincent sighed.

"I've spent months trying to impress you."

"Why?"

Vincent looked away.

"Because I like you."

The bartender blinked.

Then laughed.

Not a cruel laugh.

A genuine one.

"You idiot."

Vincent frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"I knew that from the first day."

"You did?"

"Vincent, you bought half the neighborhood."

"When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous."

Leo poured two drinks.

"You know why none of that wealth impressed me?"

Vincent shook his head.

"Because money isn't interesting."

"It isn't?"

"No."

"What is?"

Leo pointed at him.

"You showing up every week."

Vincent froze.

"You remembered that?"

"You came here thirty-seven times."

"You counted?"

"You arrived in a helicopter."

"Fair point."

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Leo smiled.

"Next time you want my attention, don't buy a building."

"What should I do?"

"Ask me out."

Vincent sat there silently.

The feared mafia boss.

The terror of the city.

The man who had stared down rival gangs without blinking.

Yet somehow asking a bartender on a date terrified him.

Humans are strange creatures.

They'll face bullets with confidence and then panic over a simple conversation.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Vincent finally asked.

Leo grinned.

"Took you long enough."

For the first time in months, Vincent smiled.

The helicopter had failed.

The mansions had failed.

The money had failed.

Turns out the thing Leo wanted most was something Vincent had almost forgotten how to give.

A normal conversation.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***