Mafia Obsession

Leo

The crates are stacked high, swaying as the gentle waves cresting beneath us rock the boat. There has to be at least one-hundred heavy crates of guns and drugs to unload

tonight, and we need to do it quick.

Our contact at the Philly PD has assured me he can keep the docks unguarded for half an hour. It’s not a lot of time, and it doesn’t help that the boat arrived five minutes late.

“Where should I put them, sir?” Joe asks, straining under the weight of one of the crates by himself. He’s a stacked guy and stronger than most, as the other guys are sharing the burden between two.

“Out the back of the unit.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Make it quick, all of you,” I say, raising my voice. I cling onto the board in my hand, as the men visibly quicken their pace, rushing faster down the ramp toward our unit.

I continue counting the crates as a loose verification that everything we ordered has arrived. At least, until everything is safely locked away in the unit we own. Then, the guys will start the count.

Joe also quickens his pace, despite struggling under the weight. I walk around the crates again, counting them once more, just to be certain they’re all there. The last few shipments from these guys were incomplete.

Rick made sure some of men paid them a visit down in Mexico, even if the sellers we deal with down there are hard bastards. As far as I heard, it got messy, but it went our way.

We can’t keep our reputation without keeping everyone in check and making an example out of the people who cross us. It’s what helps us

survive this world and keep our family on top. If my father taught me anything, it was that reputation and fear are power.

The ringtone of my phone breaks through my thoughts, and I dig it out of my pocket. The name Hector flashes on the screen, making my stomach twist. He’s the manager of one of our clubs we own to launder the money from our illegal activities. He only rings me if its bad news. “Hector, what is it? I’m dealing with the shipment down at the docks.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but we’ve had an attempted theft here at Mode.” There’s a short pause. “A woman tried to make off with two hundred thousand dollars.”

Fuck’s sake.

I glance back at the guys unloading the shipping containers, wondering if they can handle this alone while I deal with a fucking worthless thief. Joe is the only guy here who is relatively senior in our operation.

“Sir?” Hector pushes.

“I’m on my way.” I cancel the call, shoving my phone back in my pocket and walking over to him. He’s the most senior member here, but I’ve never entrusted him with something like this.

To be honest, I don’t really trust anyone. “Joe, something urgent has come up at Mode.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I need you to deal with this shipment for me as fast as possible, okay?”

His eyes widen slightly and then he nods. “Sir, I won’t let you down.”

I clap him on the back and give him a meaningful stare. “Make sure you don’t. I’ll try to get back later during the stock count.” I check my watch. “There’s only fifteen minutes until this boat needs to clear out of here.”

The blood drains from his face at my tone. It’s the first time I’ve ever trusted him with anything so important, and he needs to know there will be consequences if he fucks this up.

He nods in response, and I turn to leave, cracking my neck as I walk out of our warehouse. The summer’s breeze is cool tonight blowing off the sea, as I walk toward the parking lot at the docks.

This is the last thing I need right now. A theft of the magnitude Hector just described is beyond anything we’ve dealt with for a while. Anyone who tries to steal from the Romano Mafia is insane. We kill anyone, man or woman, who disrespects us.

My Merc is parked in the disabled spot, and I get in and let my head fall back against the headrest. Talk about shit fucking timing, especially in the middle of such a huge delivery of guns and drugs. When I get my hands on this bastard thief, they’ll wish they were never born.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

I consider calling Kane to help me out and oversee at the docks, but I know he’s got his hands full with his new play thing. The guy has been off ever since he met that beautiful girl, Jasmine.

There’s no way in hell I’d ask Rick, he’s got too much shit going on. He always has. With a heavy sigh, I turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the parking lot, turning right onto the highway.

Mode is a shit-hole of a club, but it’s perfect for our operations. It’s busy enough not to raise any flags about the amount of money we pass through there. An attempted theft needs to be dealt with harshly, to ensure no one considers it again.

I step on the gas, speeding up the highway to make it to the center of town.

I take ten minutes to get there, breaking every freaking speed limit along the way. The local police know not to stop my car anyway-they wouldn’t fucking risk it.

I pull into the parking lot and into my designated space. I haven’t been down here in a few months, most of the time it runs smoothly. Hector is a good manager, one of the best we’ve had at any of our establishments.

I get out of the car, locking it and heading for the back entrance. Hector is there, waiting for me dutifully. “Sir, thank you for coming over so quick.” He runs a hand over his shaved head. “This woman is insane, and we don’t normally deal with these kinds of matters.”

I give him a nod, walking in step beside him. “No, don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.” My fists are clenched by my side and the blood is pumping through my veins.

I’m not so hung up on killing people that cross our operation as my two other brothers. It’s why I’m the underboss, dealing with the more brutal day-to-day workings of our operation.

These people know who they’re fucking with, and they know what we do to people who cross us. They’re asking for it. Father taught me to kill earlier than my brothers, maybe that’s why I’m so desensitized to it.

My gun is nestled against my rib cage and the cold metal of my knife against my calf. A tingle runs down my spine at the thought of using it. It’s been a while since I last had to.

“We’ve only found One hundred and sixty thousand dollars that she stole.” He shakes his head. “She won’t tell us where the other forty grand is.”

My brow furrows, irritation flooding me the moment he reveals we’re still forty grand short. “I’ll beat it the fuck out of her,” I growl, clenching my fists.

Hector’s face pales, but he nods in response. Torturing isn’t something I take lightly, but it’s required. It’s part of the job description. It’s always harder when it’s a woman, but I can’t let that get in the way.

“Where the fuck is this good-for-nothing thief?” I ask, feeling irritated by this whole fucking situation.

“In there, Sir.” Hector says, nodding toward the office door. A fitting place to keep her, considering that’s where she tried to steal our cash from.

She’s no doubt tied up in there being taunted by the thousands of dollars surrounding her, knowing she’ll never leave this place alive. There’s nothing I hate more than a thief.

I growl, marching toward the door. This is the first time I’ve had to deal with a theft at Mode, but not the first I’ve had to deal with a thief. They’re always cowardly and don’t fight-so I’m not expecting it to be too hard to get the information out of her. She’ll tell me where the fuck the rest of the money is, so help me God.

I reach for the door and swing it open. My heart stops beating the moment I set eyes on here, feeling utterly star struck. The blood drains from my face and the tension fades from my shoulders. In fact, all my blood instantly goes south at the sight of the pure blonde beauty tied down to a chair, waiting for me.

“Fuck,” I say, running a hand through my hair.

Her cleavage is full and spilling out over her dress, no doubt from the way the guys handled her earlier. Her bright blue eyes are big and wide as she stares up at me, paling the moment recognition dawns. She knows who I am, and she knows how much shit she’s in-that much is clear from the look on her face.

Is she in the shit, though? For the first time in my life, I’m faced with a task I don’t think I can carry out. I’d walked in here certain I’d shred this thief to pieces, but the woman in front of me is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. A woman I’m not sure I can bring myself to harm, even though I’ve harmed anyone who crossed us in the past.

She may be a thief, but I’m considering giving her a different punishment-one that doesn’t involve violence. A little pain maybe, but not violence.

One that involves bending that women over my knee and hiking that dress up to give her a good spanking. My cock is rock hard between my thighs, straining against the zipper of my pants. How has she affected me in that way so quickly?

I can’t even find the words to say, as I stare at her. She is mesmerizing. What the hell am I going to do?