Mafia Desire

8

8

When I arrived at Stallion's house, my mood improved because I knew I would make Stallion pay for what he had done.

"Stallion!" I yelled.

"B-Bo-Boss, Hey, Boss... how are you?" He said.

"You know what happens when someone double crosses me, Stallion," I say, completely bored.

"I swear I-I I didn't do anything," he insisted.

"Ofcourse you did, I said." I pointed my gun between his eyes.

Boom

I told my men in the back to clean up his body and take care of everything. A car was already waiting for me outside.

"Please take me to my mother's house." I muttered to the driver.

A lot had happened in the previous year.

Because of my father's death, I had to take over the gang sooner than expected. Dalia was fatherless, and I needed to look after her. I had been spending much more time at my mother's house in order to care for Dalia over the last year, but I needed to stop. Even though Dalia was more important to me than the rest of the gang, business had to come first.

My mother informed me that she intended to hire someone to care for Dalia for a year.

I told my mother that I didn't care who she chose because I trusted her judgment, but it couldn't be one of the girls I fucked.

When I arrived, I got out of the car and went inside. When I walked in and smelled the cheap perfume, I knew that girls would try to get this job because it meant they'd be seeing me all the time. I entered the room where the candidates were waiting to be interviewed.

When I walked in, there were only three girls dressed in hideous party dresses. They stood up and approached me as soon as they saw me. They were all aware that I disliked being touched, so they made flirtatious movements.

I had a pet peeve about being touched; the thought of another person's skin touching mine disgusted me, and everyone in New York knew it. If someone touched me without my permission, I would go to extreme measures.

I walked out of the room, rolling my eyes at the girls.

I entered the living room and then went upstairs to look for Dalia. I discovered her coloring in her room. I felt at ease when I saw her, and I found it soothing to watch her color. She was determined not to color outside the lines.

I watched her for a while before realizing I needed to inform my men about the whore I had met earlier.

I entered my room. I have my own home, but I spend a lot of time at my mother's house because of Dalia. My mother yelled for Dalia before I could call my men. I rolled my eyes; I detested it when anyone raised their voice above a talking voice other than mine.

I picked up the phone and dialed my men's number. I heard "her" voice from downstairs before they could pick up.

I hung up the phone and walked down the stairs. Dalia was clinging to her leg and bending down to hug her when I arrived. My blood began to boil and rage ran through my veins because she, a whore, was touching someone I loved.

She looked at me when she heard me coming down the stairs, surprised at first, but then disgusted.

Dalia ran up to me and hugged my leg, yelling something, but I was too preoccupied with not shooting "her" in front of Dalia.

"What. Is. She. Doing. Here?" I asked, looking at my mother.

"Andrew, relax, she's here to look after your sister. Why are you staring at me like that? She isn't one of the girls you hang out with. As you requested." My mother explained.

I looked at my mother, then at her, and I saw her connect the dots on what my mother had just said.

"I'm here to look after your sister and nothing else." She stated

I turned away from my mother and looked her in the eyes. "Like hell you are!" I screamed, my blood boiling. I screamed.

"Andrew, watch your tone; I hired her and we signed the contract; you're going to have to deal with her." My mother explained.

I threw a fit over her. I expected her to flee because she was scared, but she stood her ground and just stared at me. Why wasn't she cowering in fear when she was in my presence? No one had ever not been afraid of me before, and I would shoot anyone without hesitation, so it surprised me that she wasn't. What was she doing standing up to me? Was she not afraid of dying? I noticed that she oberved my expression, so I quickly wiped it away.

I leaned down to her neck and inhaled the jasmine scent, which drove me insane. If it hadn't been "her," I would have taken her right away; she was stunning and very beautiful. But my blood was boiling, and she was putting me to the test.

"I will kill you if you ever speak to me. So let's make it easier on everyone by quitting." I muttered

She turned her head to look at me again before shaking her head.

She approached Dalia and mentioned something about coloring.

I glared at her, and she returned my stare, and I swear I saw a smirk form on her face. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I absolutely despise her.