Conquered by the Mafia Boss

I almost laugh at Maya’s horrified face as the cheery voice echoes loudly in the bakery. She pushes my chest desperately and I sit back down, pulling Maya onto my lap so she can feel how hard I still am. My cock rides against her ass as the baker walks in the room with a big smile on her face for the happy couple.

“I don’t know. Maya?”

“I-I think we need a bit more time to decide.”

My smile is buried in the back of her head.

A low series of beeps plays in the background as I gaze down at a white hospital bed holding a man so badly beaten that only a few square inches of his face are visible. Wedding cakes and this in one day. I can’t take this shit.

“They found him in the street, outside Napoletana.”

Tommy, one of my newer soldiers, grips the railing of the hospital bed and bares his teeth. “I couldn’t fucking do anything. There were too many witnesses, John.”

My icy tone hits the air. “What happened?”

“I was still inside the restaurant, getting the money. I saw six of them drive up on bikes. He ran across the street and they caught up to him.”

That is no fucking excuse for letting this happen to one of our own. “You didn’t do anything to stop it?”

His voice rises from the judgment in my tone. “I was outnumbered and the cops were on top of them two minutes later. Like I said, there were too many witnesses.”

His fingers whiten around the railing as I walk closer to him. “So you let those assholes get away with this?”

Tommy’s hazel eyes shine as a grim smile stretches his mouth. “Not all of them.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

I turn around as he strides past me, closing the door to the room as he faces me with an ear-to-ear, hair-raising grin.

“I got one of them. Pulled him right off his bike and bashed his head in-”

“Why the fuck didn’t you just say so?”

Tommy inches closer and bows his head to my ear. “He’s in the trunk of my car.”

Jesus fucking Christ. This is the problem with having too many hotheaded type A assholes working for you. They make stupid decisions. I can’t believe this shit. I want to smack him around-the stupid fuck.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“He’s still alive,” he says in an undertone. “We can get information from him.”

Tommy’s new, but he came to me straight from New York. He was no longer welcome there after killing two made guys. Vincent always sang praises for him. Apparently he was quite effective at getting information out of people.

I don’t trust torture. People will say anything when there’s a pair of pliers and a blowtorch in their face.

“I want to see him.”

Sal’s voice cuts through. “Johnny, we can’t let this slide.”

“I’ve something in mind.”

The idea grows in my head, festering like an infected wound, coursing vengeance through my veins.

Carlos knows damn well that I would have been well within my rights to kill him, but I didn’t. I spared his worthless life.

You’re becoming weak.

Not after tonight.

The air feels thick, almost as if it’s soaked with blood.

He lies like a slab of meat in the backroom of a deli where we play poker, sometimes. The wooden table slowly soaks with his blood as Tommy, that fucking maniac, carves him up like a turkey.

The boy screams, and the sound punctures my ear. Fucking loud. Tommy barely flinches. He moves his knife over the biker’s skin like an artist. A stroke here, digging it in the ribs there. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

I place my hands on the edge of that blood-soaked table and look into his eyes, which are very blue. “We can end it now, if you want.”

“What do you want? I don’t know anything!”

He’s a younger guy than the rest of the bikers I know. Tears well up in his eyes and spill down his dirty cheeks, and Maya’s face flashes in my mind.

It’s the way it is. They fucked up one of my men, I kill one of theirs.

I didn’t get to be the boss by playing fair. I need to know what Carlos is planning, to protect the family. To protect her.

Another loud scream punches my head as Tommy twists his knife, his face impassive as the boy’s face streams with tears. He’s ready to crack. I can see his sanity splintering in his eyes like broken glass.

“He knows about the airport heist!”ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

His chest heaves and his eyes go dark as if he immediately regrets what he said.

A thrill shoots into my heart. “What? What the fuck did you say?”

His face screws up in pain. “He knows-someone inside told him that you’re planning something.”

My insides turn to ice as Tommy shares a worried look with me. Then I seize one of the knives on his tray and wrench that fucker’s hair, the tip of the blade right next to his eyeballs.

“I’ll take your fucking eyes out if you lie to me.”

“I swear to Christ, I’m not lying. He wants you dead.”

“Saint sacrament de tabarnak de marde!” I slam the knife back on the table and try to keep my emotions in check. All year-all fucking year I’ve been developing this thing. It’s the scam of all scams. The biggest in Canada’s history. And Carlos fucking Lemyre knows about it.

“He thinks he can fuck with me?”

“I don’t know.”

Tommy looks at the boy and then back at me with a firm nod. He’s telling the truth.