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Cat & Mouse Pt. 3
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The Mafia King is... WHAT?! Who Next
Honey found herself taking steps two at the time as she made her way up the staircase that lead to the elegant penthouse that she called home. The late hour and darkness that made it hard to see beyond her nose didn't lessen the spring in her step. The spring had less to do with spending the last three hours with Don (not that the man wasn't a good time) but more to do with the sandy-haired stranger. The boy came back. Precisely as she had expected he would. One kiss was all it took, and she had already started to draw him in. Honey tossed her keys into the bowl by the door and kicked her shoes off inside the front door. She barely remembered to latch the deadbolt as she went to the kitchen. Her mind was too full of cotton candy kisses and soft green eyes to focus on much else. It had only been one short kiss, but she hadn't been able to get the taste out of her mouth.She pulled a shot glass from one of the cupboards and grabbed the bourbon from the liquor cabinet. 3 a.m. wasn't th
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! Elegant Butterflies
The afternoon sky spoke of a beautiful remainder of the day. The sun had finally pushed away the clouds in the last few hours before nightfall. The gentle breeze gliding through the trees whispered that spring would soon come. What a lovely day it had turned into for everyone except for a particular mafia boss.The mafia boss let out a muted noise of discontentment. Didn't they have anything interesting to report? Traitors to be made examples of? No people playing in territory that didn't belong to them? Anything would've been better than the financial report his right-hand man continued to drone on about. David's head remained supported by a hand under his chin as he forced himself to continue listening. Emotionless eyes trailed after a swallowtail butterfly as it fluttered past the top-floor office window behind his subordinate's head. Butterflies had life so easy, didn't they? A pair of wings to take them wherever they wanted without a care in the world. They surely never had to l
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! Deux Visages
Half past midnight and the usually packed bar, Deux Visages was more lifeless than a vampire left out in the sun for too long. The sparse signs of life came from the few people on the dance floor swaying listless or grinding against each other along to the music blaring through the club's louder speakers. Audience or no audience, the music continued faithfully until the club owner decided it was time to shut down for the night. uch like the music, the few people who stuck around were the do-nothing regulars who would instead come in every night to drain the beer pipes instead of finding something better to do with their time. The owner, Oswald, never minded so long as they didn't go about causing any trouble.Away from the dance floor and blaring music, an evidently grumpy but flashily dressed woman sat at the club's bar. Inaudible grumbles escaped the wowoman’s mouth as she adjusted her position on the far too-small bar stool. Her right hand came down with more force than necessary
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! As far apart as any two things could be
Peace and mafia were too words one often wouldn’t find said in the same breath. David wished, however, that some mornings could be peaceful. The kind of peace that didn't require him to use his gun let alone leave his bed for peace to take place. One morning alone with him and his bed. No phone consistently vibrates from the million and one useless texts and calls. Again, what was the use of having so many men if they couldn’t do anything without him? Useless was what it was. The constant din of Bohemian Rhapsody from his phone as the caller refused to hang up grated on the mafioso’s nerves. Time for a new ringtone. T“Dirty deeds are done dirt cheap.” The don mumbled as he snatched the phone off the bedside table without lifting his head from his pillow—no need to look to know how to shut the blood device off. David knew from muscle memory after doing it a million other mornings already. Shutting the phone off didn't rescue David that morning from being pried out of bed far earlier
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! So Much White
The warm dark liquid would've gone down David's throat smoother without all the papers littering his desk. The sight of it made him want to torch the room. So much white had no right to occupy his otherwise black abode. "Alfred, what exactly am I looking at?" The mafia boss refused to sit as he drained the coffee mug. He returned it to the butler without looking away from the desk. He refrained from gritting his teeth. "Your neglect, I believe, Don." Alfred set the mug down on the desk's edge before moving around the side."They have been piling up here for the last two weeks. Most of them need your signature." The butler indicated to the tallest, most precariously stacked pile of papers on the desk."The only papers that should be on my desk need my signature." David could sign papers in his sleep. Everyone knew why they had been left on his desk to build up."You have been spending too much time out, Don. You request everything of importance be sent here. The one place you've hard
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! Sandy-haired Stranger
"Oh, come now, Honey, you shouldn't go about taking these things so hard." The words rolled out of the brunette's mouth with a playful giggle as she curled a strand of hair around her right index finger. The noise was muted by the booming base of the club music, so only those nearby could she more than the bright smile and silent laughter that followed."After all, you've been doing all that extra work that makes it difficult to come and play. Right, Cheryl?" Raven-haired, short women chimed in, agreeing with the brunette. The two nodded as Honey huffed while biting down on the straw that belonged to the fruity drink set before her. As always, the corner of the club these women occupied was the most active space beyond the ever-popular dance floor. What wasn't expected, however, was hardly much of a hard time the other girls gave her. "Blaming me for dealing with necessary evils? I never thought I would live to see the day you would turn your back on me. Even going so far as to stea
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! Five Minutes
All the pots of coffee in the world couldn’t take away David’s poor mood. One weekend stuck in his office with only the endless white stacks of paper to keep him company was 48 hours too many. His fingers itched to do something more entertaining, murder white page after white page.The mafia boss took a deep drag of the cigarette in his mouth. Dark orbs glanced down at the wristwatch. They grew only darker as the clock hands reflected what he thought – the guest for that evening was already more than ten minutes late. Had they already decided that tonight would be a good night to die on without informing the mafia boss?David tapped the cigarette and watched as the quickly forming ash fell to his feet. The gray material fell to the ground without resistance as the tiny red flickers died instantly. Hmm. There was nothing satisfactory in that. The flame didn't even try to fight against what it already knew it's fate would be. “Don. I already know what you’ll say, but I think you should
The Mafia King is... WHAT?! Cat & Mouse Pt 1. (Observations)
Honey's fingers tapped absently on the side of the glass. Two weeks. Her gaze briefly flickered to the glass of alcohol on the table before returning to the bar. Two weeks and nothing had happened yet.The blonde tossed the remaining amber liquid back and let out a low hiss as the back of her throat burned.Honey had quickly let the bar once again become her second home. Her fascination with the potential of a new took consumed the rational side of her brain. Her friends joked about her being obsessive. 'Who knew one person who didn't give her immediate attention could cause this.' Jenny made a joke first, but everyone else quickly followed in. Honey rolled her eyes and bullied them into buying her drinks. It wasn't an obsession. She could still sleep at night, after all. Deep fascination was the better word for it. The deep ever-growing fascination for an odd little puppy. One who came almost every night to drink but hardly ever spoke or talked with anyone. "He has to be able to
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