Mafia (DNF)

Twelve

DREAM

"How are we supposed to move forward when you can't keep your word!?" I shouted, slamming my fist down onto the table. George was sitting quietly beside me, pretending to be taking notes on the iPad.

"Sir, we're trying to manage the situation-" one of the men protested, but a glare shut him up.

"How long has this been going on? HOW LONG?" I demanded.

Apparently, a group had been attacking the drug shipments and stealing thousands of dollars worth of merchandise. The people we were meeting with had promised they'd taken care of it, but reports showed otherwise.

"A couple of weeks, sir- we've tried to-"

"Enough," I interupted, and took a breath. "I'll take care of it myself. For now, our agreement is terminated. We won't pay for your services if you can't deliver."

I got up, and I heard George shuffle behind me. Nick closed the door as we left.

I was gripping George's shoulder tightly, and I took a deep breath. "You can't trust anyone to do a decent job anymore," I muttered.

"What's the plan?" George asked cautiously. "The robberies are still happening, right?"

"I'm thinking I should go there and teach them a lesson," I replied. "Those damn street thieves probably think they're untouchable."

"Go there yourself? Isn't it dangerous?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Not alone, but the intimidation factor of him showing up might end this madness."

Sure, there were better ways to approach this, but they needed to be taught a lesson. A bullet through their leader's head should be enough.

"Let's go tonight," I decided. "There's a shipment arriving, and I want to get this over with."

Neither of them complained, and George started typing it into his iPad. He was picking this up really fast.

We went back to the office, and I slumped down into my desk, exhausted. George poked his cute little head in through the door, looking concerned.

"Are you okay, uh, sir?" He questioned.

"You don't have to call me sir when we're alone," I replied. "Only in public."

Most of my employees did anyways, but George was special. Don't ask me why, I honestly didn't have an answer.

"Oh. Are you okay, Dream?" His soft British accent calmed me down a little.

I groaned. "I'm stuck in this never ending loop of trouble. Sometimes I want to leave and live a normal life, but that's just wishful thinking."

He came in and sat down across from me on the small couch. "Why don't you?"

"There are people that need me," I answered. "That's the only reason I've stayed. People like Nick, who can't find legal work. People who have no other option, that most mafia leaders would toss away onto the streets. If I left, they'd be fired."

He was quiet for a bit, processing the information. "Do you ever think about the people who get the drugs? Aren't their lives ruined?"

"All the time," I replied, looking out the window. "But if I weren't in this position, nothing would change. If anything, it would be worse. I'm too deep to get out now."

I glanced over at George, sitting shyly with his hands in his lap. I chuckled. "You're so cute and innocent, I feel bad for giving you this job."

He flushed red. "I'm not cute. And don't feel bad for me, I took it willingly, and you're paying me a lot."

"You've had a long day, huh. Take a break, and get ready for tonight. You might need to mentally prepare a little, too."

He nodded, then got up to go to his office.

"And send a message to my personal men," I called over as he was leaving. "We'll need backup."