He knows that which deceives the eyes

And what the breast conceals

{Quran, Surah Ghafir, Verse 19}

_______________

"June twenty-sixth, three-twenty five pm. For the case of Alvaro Marco, a suspect who had been a part of Spain's most dangerous Mafia, El rey de Garduña for three years of his life, has now gained a verdict of... not guilty. He is now exonerated from all charges acquired throughout this trial"

The cameras clicked photos of King Rafael Cenzo Rey in the palpable silence, but was soon overpowered by gasps of the courtroom. Nothing like this had ever happened before. They were sure Alvaro Marco would receive a death penalty for his alliance with the most notorious Mafia in Europe.

"After 5 continuous years of this case, the decision has been finalised under Spanish law, taking into consideration evidence, previous criminal history, witnesses and the final verdict of the jury themselves. All charges and sentences pressed against him are now exempt. The case of Alvaro Marco is now dismissed" Rudy Dario announced with a bang of the gravel. He got up and left the room, causing an uproar of journalists and police force.

For the first time in history, such a monument was disclosed to the world five years ago, rendering the entirety of Spain shook. News of this spread like wildfire both across the underworld and Europe. Soon after that, the president's dirty secrets had been exposed in broad daylight, and not a month later, newspapers, news channels and the internet had subsequently displayed the suicide of Fernando Vasquez.

"Spanish president's life hanging by a thread" was one of the headlines for Fernando Alvarez's suicide from the veracious news channels. When one of the soldiers were talking amongst themselves, Rafael couldn't help but overhear and exude a rage of laughter. The beauty of the statement was, that if one was to take the headline both literally and metaphorically, it alluded to his suicide in all scenarios.

What a beautiful ending to a hideous monster.

His happiness was shortlived, just like Rafael wanted. His dream of presidency disintegrating before his eyes, so much so he took his own life. He couldn't bear his sins reaching the world, damaging his pristine, crystal clear reputation. Not that Rafael was better than him in any way, but justice was justice served.

What Fernando failed to realise though, was that crystal broke under pressure, no matter it's state. Nothing good ever lasted and that was one thing Rafael wanted for him to never forget, even in the moment leading to his deathbed.

The Mafia was such an organised family that there was no reason for sand to fall between the fingers. Everything they ever did was low-key. The only reason it still stood till this day, against all rivals, is because there were no errors for mistakes. Every worsening situation was taken care of before it even began.

Like cancer being treated early on, before it could damage the host severely.

Five years Rafael spent in jail. Half a decade of solitude. Patience. Restless nights. So much so he'd forgotten how the world went by. Rafael had reflected on a lot of things in his confinement. Every meeting he had with Juan. Every conversation with the guards. Every momory with Jimena. Every evanescent moment with Laila. His beloved wife.

The only women he'd ever allowed himself to love. Wholely. He'd reflected on his mistreatment of her in the beginning of their relationship. How he'd casually swear at her. Become everything he'd ever detested in a man with her. Becoming a quarter the displeasing man Jimena's biological father was.

That would all change.

His hands were itching to hold her in his arms and never let go, more than smoking. That was a habit he'd ridden himself of alongside his easily led anger. Confinement taught him patience goes a long way. Controlling ones desire goes even further.

The guards led Rafael to the exit, where the sun was shining and the birds were chirping and the beat of Rafael Cenzo Rey's heart was accelerating. Was this what it felt to be alive? To be truly alive without the merriment of killing somebody? To be free and not confined in one's own mind over taking a life into their hands?

If so, then he was a fool to walk the road of his past. A fool to have not learned from his mistakes. A fool to have not started a new life when God had saved him from his previous life.

Jaun stood before him, grinning from ear to ear. If this was Rafael five years ago, he would have just about smacked that smile from his face, but the joy of liberty was still so new in his blood, he couldn't help but reciprocate his expression.

The lines curved around Rafael's eyes, making him appear more aged. His hair had grown quite well, the stubble a mercy to his rugged composure.

Both the brothers embraced in a tight hug, allowing themselves this rare moment of emotion. With a firm pat to Juan's back, they detached, grinning from ear to ear.

How they managed to fool the entire world that the mafia's biggest leader, Rafael Cenzo Rey was a mere Alvaro Marco was a monument In itself. Just as busy as Rafael was inside the cell, taking on this persona of a poor man under the mafia's radar, Juan was just as as busy outside the cell.

Leading the syndicate. Bettering relations with neighbouring gangs. Becoming the top dog.

"My man, great to have you back" came the laugh of Juan, shaking Rafael's shoulders as he stated so proudly. "Thank God you came out later than never, I'm pretty sure those fuckers would have had you in longer if I hadn't pulled a few strings last minute" he exclaimed, glancing at the police force behind Rafael's back. Armed.

"Now tell me, what did I miss" declared Rafael once all the legal paperwork was complete and he was able to make it past the cameras and eager journalists looking for the next scoop.

Meanwhile Juan was more than happy to inform Rafael of what occured within the five years he was in jail. This job was not for him, he'd realised, being the watchdog or in other words, the underdog was something which appealed to him much more. Working without a target on his back was even better.

Rafael made sure Juan gave him an in depth analysis of what occured, every little detail which seemed unimportant was vital in more ways than one. It was these pieces of information which Rafael sought for that eventually led to a bigger picture.

After three hours, once all the information from Juan had been squeezed down to a pulp, it was then Rafael granted himself to breath normally.

But that lasted less than a minute when he found himself asking about his wife and daughter.

Juan's expression was much more sober now, as if the weight of Rafael's word's hit him with great force. He breathed in a ragged breath, not wanting to announce such a part of his duty.

Rafael waited patiently for his answer, occasionally staring out of his penthouse window, and onto the beautiful scenery displaying a forest of emerald and rich brown hues. If one was to look closely, they could tell Rafael was on edge for the answer.

Five years was a long time. Even if it sounded like such a short sentence, the outside world did not stop revolving for anyone. Certainly not Rafael, who couldn't have been more unfortunate in his lifetime, than in that cell, counting down the days he was a free man.

"I asked you a question"

"And I'm dreading giving you an answer" the fingers which were tapping in anxiousness against Rafael's thigh stopped the second Juan breathed out his shaky response.

"Laila...Laila has moved on" Those words were enough to unleash the collected fury of Rafael. He grabbed Juan's collar, threatening to fuck him up if what he said was even remotely correct.

Juan expected this, and knew Rafael enough to know how to play his cards right.

"Look Rafael, shooting me isn't going to get you anywhere. She was married to you, a man whose future was uncertain. And a wife's future is determined by her husband's. She would have had an unstable future if her husband was in jail for god knows how many fucking years. What do you think she told Jimena everyday when ever she would ask where her papa was? That's right, she would lie. And from what I could tell, Laila hates that shit. She's never been one to lie. Ever"

Rafael let go of Juan as if a mere atom of his burned him. Whatever he said was true. The buried dread blossomed into fear of what had happened. A feeling so foreign to him, he'd never felt this when his organisation was crumbling before his eyes. When he was jailed. When he was in solitary confinement for five years. When he decided it was time to hand over his mafia, built from the ground up, from blood, sweat and tears to Juan, just so he could face this moment.

Everything was for this moment.

The hope which carried him through each agonising day, just for it all to crash before his eyes. His wife. His daughter. They had forgotten him so easily? When they were on his mind, twenty four seven? When they were the light that guided him through the darkest days in hell?

Juan did not let this oppertunity slide through his hands, as Rafael was all ears. He stood in the room, still, like a corpse that had been burned in an earthquake.

"She did what's best for herself, hermano. Her families from a conservative Muslim background, and I'm sure they did not like seeing their daughter so depressed over a man whom they hadn't even had the chance to meet"

"Get out" came the calm tone of Rafael, shook to the core. Juan knew not to mess with the calm before the storm, so he left with a final apologetic look his way.

When he was sure Juan was out of the room and his house and in his car, he finally allowed himself to sink to the floor. There came pouring like a flood his emotions, too much for him to keep within.

What was supposed to be the most happiest day of Rafael's life turned out to be the most miserable one he's lived through.

His tears streamed down his face uncontrollably and the sobs rendered the room with despair. His shoulders had been carrying the 'what if's' for too long, a burden which finally dissolved into the pain and became one, as they shook in distraught.

Evey inch of Rafael's body was bearing the consequences of Juan's words, as if the mere action of breathing was becoming an equation for rocket science. His entire countenance was red and teary. Everything a man refused to show to society.

He'd never cried like such before. Never in his life did he ever feel the need to cry over spilt milk. Everything, he believed, happened for a reason, but this was not something he could wrap his head around.

The Laila he knew could never do this. Yes, he treated her wrong, and everyday was a day spent in guilt over his actions. But this? This was too much to bear.

His crying had stopped after many moments until he had nothing left but his harrowing thoughts. Who was he crying to? Surely it must have been someone who placed those feelings in his heart initially.

Allah.

He was the answer to all his problems.

That night, Rafael prayed to his lord for all his sins. That he was just a mere human whom had been arrogant in his ways and neglected the message of god.

Rafael prayed that night until his knees were sore. Until his back was hunched over in sajdah to the point it became painful to sit up straight. Until the tears dried from his eyes and new ones formed over what he'd lost. Until he was not able to stand straight in prayer without falling down.

Until the highest point of his face communicated with the lowest point of the earth.

Until the moon gave way to the sun. For the most merciful Lord to forgive Rafael. A mere servant of Allah, whom was lost and then guided.

___