Conquered by the Mafia Boss

The streetlights bleed into the darkness the longer I keep my eyes open. Then I blink and a glaze sharpens everything into focus again. The car screams as the lights flash a bright green.

Go kill John.

I can’t hear anything but the roar of my blood and my own voice screaming in my head. Is he sending a message to me? That he’s boss and can do whatever the fuck he wants?

Message read, loud and clear. You’re fucking dead, Johnny.

I race down the streets of Montreal like a madman. Murderous rage builds inside me like a crescendo. Fuck, this is so easy. I should have done this weeks ago. I park my car a couple blocks down from John’s house and I move quickly through shadows. Heat pounds through my limbs as I grab my gun at my side, and I raise my fist. The wood rattles as I pound the door.

Amazingly it opens a few moments later and Johnny’s wife stands in front of me. Fuck. I would rather not do this in front of her.

Her eyebrows knit in concern. “Jack, what’s wrong?”

“Where is your husband?”

Nothing but red flies in front of my vision as she mumbles something. I won’t be delayed any longer. My brother waited months for justice. I push her aside, batting her away.

“Jesus!”

“I need to see him.”

An extremely offended look crosses her pretty face as she shuts the door. “He’s in his study.”

Perfect. My mind is clear the moment she opens the door and John lifts his head. Calm hatred fills me with bloodlust when he says something and I step inside. The door closes, trapping us both.

“Jack. What brings you here?”

How can the bastard pretend not to know? His relaxed posture betrays nothing as he bends over sheaves of paper. As I sit down I swing my hand from my jacket. The gun flashes in the overhead light and Johnny spots it, but too late. His hand reaches under his desk and I point the gun square at his chest.

“Hands on your fucking head.”

Johnny freezes, his gaze filled with cold rage. “What are you doing?”

“Do as I say, or I’ll blow a hole in your chest.”

The air feels thick and my voice trembles like it’s on the verge of explosion.

Even though that bastard knows I’m not fucking around, he refuses to weaken in front of me. Slowly he raises his hands on his perfectly styled hair. An impassive expression falls on his face. It says: Fine, kill me, but you won’t last a day after I’m dead.

This is it. All I have to do is pull the trigger, and Johnny’s no longer boss. He’s no longer anything.

A flicker of something glints in his eyes when I raise the gun to his head.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

A burst of emotion rises up my throat and I slam my fist on the table. The gun rattles in my hand. “You know what you fucking did, so don’t try to deny it!”

Johnny’s voice stays even. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“MY BROTHER! MY WIFE!” Corrosive hatred rises inside me as confusion and anger cloud his face. I want him to admit it. “You tried to have them killed, and I’m fucking done playing your games!”

“I don’t know who is feeding you this information, but it’s false.”

“BULLSHIT! I was at the train station with her, you piece of shit! Your guys went after her.”

“Why the fuck would I want to kill your wife?”Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

My eyes burn as a vision of Mike’s broken body haunts me. “Because she’s a loose end! Because that’s what you do! Sal can back me up-you hired Brian and two other men to take care of my brother-”

“I did not kill your brother.”

“DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME!”

“If I wanted him dead, I wouldn’t have been so sloppy. I’m no fucking coward-I wouldn’t make them wear leather cuts.”

No, I won’t let him do this. He’s just trying to manipulate me.

“And your wife? Why the fuck would I do that in the middle of broad daylight? Despite what you might think of me, I would never touch another man’s family.”

I refuse to let the nuggets of truth sink in, but everything’s confused now.

“Why the fuck would I want to jeopardize this alliance? It makes no sense, Jack.”

“To fuck with me! All year you’ve been sending me on these fucking jobs and I risked my goddamned life.”

“What jobs?” he roars. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Damn you,” I say in a tight voice, gun trembling. “You know what I’m talking about. The jobs Sal called me for that were directly from you.”

He lowers his hands from his head, the blood drained from his face. He looks like a pale shadow of his former self. “Jack,” he says, pitying me. “He’s playing you.”

What?

And the energy saps out of my limbs.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious? He wants me dead, and he fed you shit all year to get you to do this.”

Horror makes the rage dart out of sight like quick, silver fish. The gun lowers from his head.