Conquered by the Mafia Boss

I flinch at his face, which is taut with rage. He moves stiffly and grabs my arms, giving me a brusque kiss on my cheek.

“Don’t worry about it.”

JACK

Don’t worry about it. It’s the mantra of wise guys everywhere. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told that to a woman. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.

Even when they’re not. Especially when they’re not.

I had to leave before I exploded, but I don’t even slam the car door when I get out. I save that shit for those three guys-I know exactly who they are. She never left my sight the entire time we were at that dinner. I couldn’t help but look for her. She’s smoking hot and there are plenty of assholes who would hit on her.

A roar builds in my ears as I open the door to the venue, but my heart is steady like a persistent drumbeat. My eyes dart all over the place, looking for those familiar faces so that I can fucking kill them. Instead I see Sal, seated at the dinner table. The live band strikes up a slow ballad, and everyone dances.

I hurry down the steps and kneel at Sal’s side.

“Hey! You’re back-”

“Tim, Brad, and Vito-where the fuck are they?”

Sal’s portly face stumbles. “Uh-they’re near the stage, I think.”

I look, scanning through the dance floor of couples, and I see the three bastards heckling the lead singer.

“What’re you-?”

I ignore the last part of his sentence and grab an empty wine bottle just sitting on the table. Blackness pricks at the edge of my vision.

They called my wife a cunt.

They won’t know what hit them.

I get about two feet from them before one of them notices me, and I swing back with the bottle. Vito’s head makes a dull sound as the glass shatters down his face. He drops instantly.

“What the fuck?”

The music shrieks. Brad grabs my arm and I elbow his face hard. Then an arm chokes my neck from behind, and I see Brad’s nose streaming with blood. I slip out of the chokehold and Tim screams at me.

“Fucking moron!”

My fist whirls at his face, and he ducks. Then a blow to the back of my head sends me reeling forward.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Turn around!

My balance is off and pain explodes over my skull. Tim’s fist swings at me. I grab his arm and yank. He flies right into my raised knee and his huge moan echoes in the venue. Someone grabs my middle and I dive toward the stage, groping until I take something long and metallic. It’s heavy. The bronze flashes across my vision as I swing it in my hands, bashing against the side of Brad’s face. It makes a loud, gong-like sound. I realize I grabbed the fucking trombone.

“FUCK!”

“That’s mine, you dick!”

I look up into the musician’s hostile face, exploding. “Why don’t you come down here and I’ll cram it up your ass?”

Something appears from the corner of my vision. I duck, the bat whistling over my head. I lunge at him before he can swing it again and hit him hard right below his ribs.

He makes a retching sound and then my fist crunches the side of his head. Brad falls flat on his face, his abdomen heaving, but I can’t let the fucker go. I know what he said to her. Beatrice’s crying face surfaces in my vision and a fresh wave of fury makes me kick the asshole while he’s down. That’s what they did to her, didn’t they?

“Jack! What the FUCK?”

Johnny’s stern voice incenses me. A corrosive hatred that I’ve never known rises inside me. I can’t touch him, so I whale on Brad. My boot crunches his face. I get down on the floor and take a fistful of hair, and-someone tackles me.

“Let me the fuck go!”

“Take him out of here,” I hear Johnny mutter.

Three men grab hold of my arms and drag away from Brad, escorting me through the wall of people, who scream when I approach.

“Everything’s fine. Go back to your tables.”

I almost laugh at the sound of forced calm in Johnny’s voice.

My arms twist behind my back as they throw me outside some Employees Only exit, which empties into a deserted lot. Johnny explodes from the door, grabbing my collar.

“What the fuck was that?”

“They called my wife a cunt!”

Suck my dick, asshole.

He jabs at my chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“They made comments about my wife in her presence. Get the fuck off me!” I yank my arms out of their grips and glare at Johnny, who looks slightly mollified.

“So you decide to beat the shit out of them in front of a hundred fucking civilians?” His screams deafen my ears. “You should have told me about it, and I would’ve handled it.”

Bullshit.

“So if someone called your wife a biker cunt, you would what?”

He laughs, his white teeth flashing. “Don’t even start with me, Jack.”

“What?” I scream. “You want to sweep this under the rug, too?”

Johnny’s eyes gleam dangerously as he takes a few steps closer. “I wish Mike were here to tell you to shut your fucking mouth.”

“He’s not here because of you!”

Suddenly a cold muzzle presses against my forehead and Johnny leans in, pressing the barrel against my head as spittle flies from his mouth.

“You want to fucking die? Say one more fucking word.”