Chapter 2 - The Mirror Image
The cinematic realism of the terrifying, impossible moment gripped the luxurious bathroom.
The four little boys didn't seem intimidated by the towering, heavily tattooed mafia boss standing in front of them. They lined up perfectly in a row by the gold sinks.
A medium shot captured the first boy in line. He looked up at Dominic with wide, curious eyes. Then, the six-year-old tilted his head slightly to the left and nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his small hand.
Dominic stopped breathing.
It wasn't just a random gesture. It was Dominic’s exact, highly specific nervous habit—a micro-expression he had carried since childhood. It was a genetic mirror reflecting right back at him.
"Are you waiting for someone too?" the first boy asked innocently, his voice echoing softly against the marble walls.
Dominic’s knees felt like absolute lead. The cold, terrifying apex predator completely vanished.
A medium close-up captured Dominic slowly dropping to one knee right in front of the four boys, bringing himself down to their eye level. His expensive navy suit brushed against the marble floor. He stared into their dark eyes, his heart hammering violently against his ribs, searching desperately for an explanation.
"How old are you?" Dominic asked, his deep voice trembling with a profound, agonizing shock.
A tight close-up captured the four boys. They looked at each other for a brief second, perfectly synchronized, before looking back at the massive man.
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"We're six," the boys answered together, in perfect unison.
👉 The mathematical reality hit Dominic like a freight train, but the true shock was standing right in the doorway.
