The small shoemaker's shop was silent. The scent of worn leather filled the air, carrying the traces of the past. Enes looked at his father and took a deep breath. There was both exhaustion and unwavering determination in old Zeyni's eyes.
— "Father… they're not bothering you, right?" Enes asked in a hesitant voice.
Zeyni gave a faint smile.
— "No, son. What kind of bother? We earn our bread with sweat and labor. Their words are nothing but empty threats. I won't bend so easily."
Enes wanted to draw strength from his father's words, yet unease gnawed at him. Because this wasn't their first visit. Those men had been roaming the neighborhood for days, pressuring every shop, one by one.
Footsteps echoed outside. The wooden door creaked open, and Remzi, the owner of the shop across the street, stepped in. His face was pale, as if he hadn't slept in days.
— "Zeyni…" he said in a trembling voice. "They came to us too. They want our shop as well. These are dangerous men. Everyone whispers the same name. Their boss… Halit Yıldırım. The most notorious mobster in the city."
Enes's eyebrows furrowed, his heartbeat quickening.
— "A mob boss? Father, this is more serious than we thought."
Remzi continued nervously:
— "Yes, son. No one in the neighborhood dares to resist them. Some have already signed their shops away. And nobody wants to find out what happens to those who refuse."
Zeyni slammed his cane on the ground, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.
— "Remzi… I inherited this shop from my father. Every nail, every hammer on these shelves is a piece of my life's work. Let them be mafiosos for all I care. Every man lives his own destiny. Our path is clear."
Enes admired his father's defiance, yet deep in his chest, fear grew heavier. They were not facing ordinary foes.
---
At that very hour, on the other side of the city, inside a lavish villa, the air was thick beneath golden chandeliers. Necip stood before his boss with his head bowed. The walls were covered in expensive paintings, the air heavy with sharp tobacco smoke.
— "Boss…" Necip said in a low, nervous tone. "That shoemaker, Zeyni, still refuses. Worse, his stubbornness is giving courage to the others."
From behind a polished desk, Halit Yıldırım rose slowly. His dark suit clung sharply to his frame. His jet-black hair fell across his shoulders, and his cold eyes seemed to fill the room. The stubble on his face gave him an even more menacing look.
He lit a cigarette, letting the smoke drift upward. Then his gaze snapped to Necip.
— "Do I have to repeat myself every time?" Halit's voice was filled with anger. "That shoemaker is still resisting? And now he's emboldening the rest?"
Necip nodded quickly, fear creeping into his voice.
— "Yes, boss. The others hesitate to sign because of him."
A cold smile spread across Halit's face.
— "Then finish him. Let him be an example. Everyone must learn who holds power here, who makes the rules. If we don't crush him, more will rise against us."
Necip swallowed hard.
— "As you command, boss."
Halit slammed his fist down on the stack of papers before him.
— "I don't want to hear about stubborn men anymore. Zeyni's end will be a warning. With him gone, the hope in that neighborhood will die too."
Necip left the room, the weight of a deadly mission pressing down on his shoulders.
---
Outside, night was falling, and the web of fate was tightening. On one side stood Zeyni, the shoemaker, clinging to honor and defiance. On the other stood Halit Yıldırım, whose deadly orders left no room for mercy.
Soon, the two worlds would collide.