CARNAL

XXVI

THE SET UP

With trepidation coursing through his veins, Siraj fidgeted with his tie as he neared the foreboding warehouse. A week had already passed since he vowed to infiltrate the Dorian mafia for the benefit of the Nirotti mafia. The faintly illuminated streets and desolate backstreets appeared to be a contrived attempt at crafting the ideal backdrop for their nefarious undertakings.

Inhaling deeply, Siraj mentally reinforced the rationale behind his presence - to unearth irrefutable evidence of the Dorian's extensive money laundering operations, which could potentially crumble their criminal empire and pave the way for Nirotti ascendancy. The offer was irresistible; loyalty to the Nirottis ensured that his own secrets if ever exposed, would remain concealed.

As Siraj entered the warehouse, he was immediately engulfed by an atmosphere of raucous activity characteristic of such establishments – burly men in grimy vests hoisting stacks of crates, a potent aroma of fuel and perspiration pervading every corner. It wasn't long before a hulking man named Matteo greeted him; it was Matteo's role to guide incoming recruits like Siraj into jobs within the facility.

"Hey, you must be the newbie," Matteo boomed cheerily, presenting his hand for Siraj to clasp it. "Welcome to the team! I'm Matteo, and I'll be your tour guide today."

Emitting an anxious chuckle, Siraj grasped Matteo's hand in return. "Thank you for bringing me into the fold. I'm excited to work alongside you all."

For hours on end, Matteo acquainted Siraj with every facet of their daily operations—the intricacies of packing, the regimented organization of storage rooms, and even the clandestine storage of illicit goods under lock and key. Although it masqueraded as any other run-of-the-mill warehouse job, Siraj was keenly aware of the malevolent secrets cloaked beneath the surface.

He detected betrayal lurking in every shadowy cranny, spying the gleam of concealed weapons tucked within crates, insincere grins flickering between workers, and hushed discussions cut short whenever he entered a space.

Days merged into weeks as Siraj earned the trust of his peers and delved ever deeper into the abyss of the Dorian mafia's machinations. He absorbed every minute detail, etching them into his mental catalogue of their quotidian procedures and command structure. Understanding that maintaining physical records would court disaster, he relied on his recollections to sustain him until sufficient intelligence had been compiled.

During a particularly tranquil night in the warehouse, Siraj caught sight of a covert assembly of men clustered together in an obscure nook. Their urgent whispers pricked his interest, and as he crept closer, he discerned fragments of muffled discourse: Laundered currency... Logan Gino... Cayman Islands...

At the very moment he felt he was on the cusp of exposing their sordid embezzlement scheme, a voice rang out, jolting him from his focus.

"Siraj! Get back to work!"

Caught off guard and slow to process the sudden interruption, Siraj swiveled to find Matteo glaring at him, arms folded and eyebrows raised in suspicion. He regarded Siraj's proximity to the conspirators' hushed exchange with questioning eyes.

Feeling a wave of anxiety washing over him, Siraj stammered as he feigned innocence, "Apologies... yeah... I just dropped something here. Almost finished."

Casting a lingering, dubious look first at Siraj and then at the shadowy corner where the plotters stood huddled, Matteo exhaled with irritation and ambled off.

The weight of his precarious situation instantly set in - Siraj understood that one misstep could be fatal and derail his mission for the Nirotti family. His heart hammered relentlessly against his ribcage as he pondered his next course of action: gather evidence and share it with Don. However, the Nirottis had other intentions in store.