Vacations of Unknown Intent
Ivan systematically took out the police spies fleeing near each branch office, one by one.
Their locations were shared in real-time, so tracking them down wasn't difficult.
They all ran desperately to avoid capture, and even when cornered, they swung blades to threaten him—but none of it posed a real problem for Ivan.
He just tossed them aside lightly, then crushed their throats or smashed their skulls into pulp.
Over the course of several sleepless days, he eliminated every spy uncovered within the Clarte Family.
The nonstop action had built up considerable stress, but there was no helping it—this was critical business.
Crack.
With the neck of the last fleeing spy snapped, Ivan casually shoved the body under a pile of trash.
Cleanup wasn't his job.
Mission complete, he called Rosa as if nothing had happened.
"Looks like you got it done, since you're calling."
"Just finished, ma'am. Any more spies uncovered?"
"Nope. Checked multiple times—no more turning up. The other families aren't finding any either, so we can wrap up here."
"Good to hear. I'll head back right away."
"No need. Take a vacation for a while."
But what came back was an offer of vacation.
"...A vacation, ma'am?"
"Yeah, you've been working hard lately. I've been thinking about giving you time off someday, and now feels right."
"......"
She wouldn't just hand out pure, innocent vacation time without some angle.
He leaned toward suspicion over gratitude, but he wasn't foolish enough to refuse a reward.
"Then I'll take a few days off. I'll select extra personnel for your security detail."
"Sure. Don't worry without me around— I can protect myself just fine."
"Understood."
The call ended with Ivan's reply.
'There's definitely something brewing.'
Once suspicion took root, it didn't die easily.
They'd been fucking like rabbits day after day, and now she was proactively suggesting a few days off? It screamed ulterior motives.
'Still, rare vacation time—gotta use it.'
Ivan pondered destinations briefly before heading out.
He could decide on the way.
Driving his personal sedan, Ivan arrived at a house far from the Clarte Family HQ.
Spacious yard, quiet surroundings—perfect for relaxed downtime.
Screech.
As he opened the door, a black cat rushed over to greet him.
Ivan scooped up the cat with its bright yellow eyes gleaming mischievously and headed to the living room, patting its rear along the way.
He flipped on the TV and sank into the sofa, letting time drift.
Mostly news or documentaries, but that was enough.
Just vegging out felt like bliss right now.
'Gotta stock up on cooking ingredients, daily necessities, and cat food while I'm off.'
More to buy than expected.
"Grrr...."
As he kept patting the purring cat's butt, lost in thought—
Ring ring ring ring ring!
His smartphone buzzed with an incoming call.
Ivan answered without checking the screen, and a familiar voice piped up.
"Ivan, whatcha up to?"
"...On vacation."
Levich's voice already grated, but he held it together.
"What? You're on vacation too? I'm on break right now myself."
"Just coincidence."
He didn't think much of it—until her next words.
"Nah, seems like most execs in the big families got vacation time."
"...What?"
"Got curious, so I called around to buddies—everyone's on leave."
"......"
All major family executives on vacation at once? Highly unnatural.
"Excluding the big families, hardly anyone else is off... gotta be the bosses orchestrating it."
"Anyway... why call me? You didn't need to."
"Bored outta my mind. Darling's swamped with work, can't hang."
"...You think I'm a toy?"
A bit absurd, but Ivan kept his cool.
"Toy? Pfft, what're you gonna do about it? It's not like you can do jack."
It felt like prodding, but Levich was always like this—he let it slide.
"No more to say? Hanging up."
"Wait, hold on! Don't hang up...!!!"
Right before he hit end call, she yelped desperately.
"What is it?"
"Uh, since you're free anyway... mind if I swing by your place?"
"...My house?"
Suddenly?
He rarely felt thrown off, but her casual drop visit caught him.
Even bored, the distance from her place made staying home smarter.
'Tough to turn down now...'
Ivan suspected the four great family bosses had motives for the mass vacations.
'Not pure goodwill... better investigate firsthand.'
Human nature to chase curiosities.
He figured starting with Levich might reveal something.
"Sure, come over."
"Yesss! Heading out now?"
"Just bring the stuff I list. Was about to shop anyway."
"Easy peasy. List 'em—I’ll grab everything. Get hyped!"
Her cocky shout prompted Ivan to rattle off ingredients and sundries before hanging up.
The cat in his lap had dozed off, purring softly.
He eased off the sofa, tucked it into its bed, then returned.
Levich would arrive by evening—he'd veg guilt-free till then.
"Ta-da! Big sis has arrived!"
Ivan opened the door at the sound of her car, and there she was, plastic bags bulging with groceries, waving as she breezed in.
White tank top and tight black dolphin shorts accentuated her thick thighs.
"First time here, but damn, nice place. Yard and all, well-kept too."
"Says the penthouse princess."
Levich lived in luxury that dwarfed this—though Ivan could too, if he wanted.
A modest house with yard suited him fine solo.
"Eek! Kitty!"
Strutting like she owned the joint, she spotted the prowling black cat and snatched it up.
"The family 'executioner' keeps a cat? Gap moe overload!"
"What the hell do you think I am?"
"...Executioner?"
"......"
His public image was apparently grim—even among mafia peers. Civilians? Worse.
'Killed plenty on the job, but necessary for family and self. Nonstop grind.'
Mafia life demanded blood to climb—no clean paths.
"Sit tight. I'll cook."
"You cook too? Husband material maxed!"
Kekekeke!
She sprawled on the sofa, cackling.
'...Husband material.'
Ivan mulled it briefly, then hauled bags to the kitchen, out of sight.
He settled on pasta—stuffed with whatever, his most-tested dish. Low failure rate.
Slurrrrp!
"Mmm. This slaps hard."
Levich shoveled a massive forkful, eyes sparkling as she nodded.
"...No one's stealing it. Slow down—you're not a kid."
"Mmph... but it's too good!"
She gulped it down, reloaded, and chomped again.
Ivan watched, taking a bite himself.
The tomato-rich pasta hit just right.