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Wednesday, 1:41 am 6/5/18

"They've scheduled their drug shipment for tonight." Carlos tells his team members, his hands on the table as he looked at all of them, his cousin, Blythe, behind him.

"Yeah, no shit," she scoffs, running a finger along her knife as she leaned against the wall, "fuck everything up boys, you know what to do." Pushing herself up straight she orders and then leads them out, one by one they all left to their vans.

"Дядя is really wanting to mess with the Italians, they're псих." Uncle. Crazy. Carlos snickers, into his earpiece, sitting back into his seat and holding his gun real close.

Blythe, in the other car, rolls her eyes, and lets out a sigh, "Ты знаешь какой он, loves the last laugh." You know how he is.

The Russians and Italians didn't have beef, they really didn't, they went way back, but when they lived in New York together and fought for dominance over the city as two of the most powerful mafias, they had beef there.

Mafia was all about dominance an power, everyone lusted over it. 

Colton, their cousin, sat back at the warehouse in front of the computer, his feet propped up on the computer table as he munched on his cheetos, "You seem to forget we're Russian, even our cats are псих." Crazy. "Those guys don't got anything on us."

Blythe sighs dramatically, "There's no point in bickering about this, we're all on the same level." she pushes her hair back, reminiscing her night that day, she felt tingly, she felt horny, she felt like wanting blood.

"Mason Rodriquez," She states, "nobody touches him at the docks," She smiles sickly.

"That one's mine."

~

Wednesday, 3:17 am 6/5/18

Mason jumps up, seeing a rat run past him, grabbing onto Noah's collar, messing up his shirt, he huffs and changes places with him.

"Fucking mafia don and can't stand a motherfucking rat." Noah complains, straightening his shirt and then eyeing Mason, judging his clothes.

Mason, getting uncomfortable under his gaze, covers his chest and scowls at his friend, "I'm straight, you perverted asshole, don't look at me like that or else Damien's gonna get a wrong impression."

"Please, you wish you could fuck me," Noah rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets, "the least you could do was dress properly."

Scoffing at that, Mason runs a hand through his messed up hair, if anyone looked at him, they'd say he just rolled out of bed, which was in fact true. He was in bed scrolling through his feed on instagram when his father called him to remind him of the shipment arriving.

The file with the information was stolen the night after his birthday, he wasn't fully told what happened, must've been Ethan, he had a thing for misplacing important things, but thankfully they had a picture of it, but he did catch onto a few words when his father was talking to the guy that saw what happened. Honestly, Mason couldn't be bothered with what happened, he was frustrated.

He woke up frustrated the morning after his birthday, miss playboy fucking bunny wasn't there, he was hoping for some more fucking, post birthday sex.

She was right in some way, he had his fair share of screaming her name all night until he flipped them around.

He blew a raspberry, "Our roles aren't reversed Noah, sit down."

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